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"Some wind that," murmured Ned, in rather awe-struck tones. "That's so," agreed his chum. "But we'd better help Mr. Damon," for that gentleman was slowly crawling back, not caring to trust himself on his feet, for the wind had actually carried him down by its force. "Bless my anemometer!" he gasped, when Tom and Ned had given him a hand up. "What happened?" "It was the great wind," explained Tom.
"Perhaps," Father Damon replied, without any leniency in his face; "but that does not matter. I must tell you what I could not last night. Can you hear me?" They went together into the oratory. Father Damon did not spare himself. He kept nothing back that could heighten the enormity of his offense.
I'm sorry, Tom, but the only thing I see for you to do is to wait until the last minute. Then, if you find Andy has infringed on your machine, lodge a protest that is unless you can get evidence against him before that time." Tom well knew the uselessness of the latter plan. He and Mr. Damon had tried several times to get a glimpse of the craft Andy had made, but without success.
Part of it seemed to be the name of the person or god whom the statue represented, and what followed none could make out. "It's something like the ancient Greek or Persian language," declared Mr. Damon, who was quite a scholar. "I can make out a word here and there, and it seems to be a warning against disturbing the statue, or damaging it.
"I believe we're on the track of the mystery!" He led the way, followed by Mr. Damon, while Koku came next and then Masni. It could be no trap since she entered it herself. The path widened, but not much. There was only room for one to walk at a time. The trail twisted and turned, and Tom was wondering how far it led, when, from behind him, came the cry of the woman: "Watch now no fall down."
Jenks time enough to make the circuit. Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by a low whistle. It was Tom's signal that he and Mr. Jenks were ready. "Come on! Run!" cried Mr. Damon. The scientist and the eccentric man leaped forward. The "ghost" heard the whistle, and heard the spoken words. The thing in white hesitated a moment, and then raised one arm.
"Then this is where the trail divides," said Ned, as they went back over the road, coming to a point where the highway branched off. "If he went this way, he went to Kanker's place, or he would be in the way of going. He isn't there, it seems, and didn't go there." "If he took the other road, where would he go?" asked Mr. Damon. "Any one of a dozen places.
Villiers," said he, with the utmost gravity, "I have all possible respect for you. Blast me! if I am not willing to forget all our former rivalship. Tell me, sir, can I do you any service?" Damon had every reason to be satisfied with his behaviour, and flew out of the house in a moment. Sir William Twyford did not however meet with the person he went in quest of.
"I will write to some friends in St. Petersburg and perhaps they can get some information for us, as to where my brother is. "That will be good," declared Mr. Damon. "Bless my icicle! But the more I think of this trip the better I like it!"
"What, what?" cried Demetrius with increasing impatience: "My time is limited and if you start the horses without knowing my way of managing them they will certainly not do their best. As soon as the market begins to fill we will set out. We shall need a few hours for the Hippodrome, then we will dine with Damon, and before dark...."
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