"Trust Tom Swift for that," was the reply. "Keep out of sight now, there is a large crowd outside."
Tom came from the tank room. There was a despondent look on his face.
"It's all gone—every drop," he said. "That's what made the motor stop."
"What's gone?" asked Mr. Damon.
"The gasolene. We sprung a leak in the main tank, somehow, and it all flowed out while we were flying along."
"Haven't you any more?"
"Not a bit. I was drawing on the reserve tank, hoping to get to civilization before I needed more. But its too late now. We will have to"
"Bless my snow shoes!" cried Mr. Damon. "Don't say we'll have to stay here—in Siberia! Don't say that. My wife"
"No, we won't have to stay here if we can get a supply of kerosene," interrupted Tom. "The motor will burn that. The only trouble is that we may be detained. The authorities probably know us by this time, and are on the watch."
"Then get it before they know we are here," advised Ned.
"I'll try," said Tom, and he at once conferred with the elder Petrofsky. The latter said he was sure kerosene could be had in town, and, rather
