"No, but I can hear them! Over this way!" yelled Ned, and then, being able to dimly make out objects, so he would not run into them, he started off, followed by the young inventor. Tom could hear several persons running away now, but he could see no one, and from the sound he judged that the spies, if such they were, were hurrying across the fields that surrounded the shop. It was almost a hopeless task to pursue them, but the two lads were not the kind that give up. They rushed forward, hoping to be able to grapple with those who had looked in the shop window, but it was not to be. The sound of the retreating footsteps became more and more faint, until finally they gave no clew to follow. "Better stop," advised Tom. "No telling where we'll end up if we keep on running. Besides it might be dangerous." "Dangerous; how?" panted Ned. "They might dodge around, and wait for us behind some tree or bush." "An' ef dat Foger feller am around he jest as soon as not fetch one ob us a whack in de head," commented Eradicate grimly. "Guess you're about right," admitted Ned. "There isn't much use keeping on. We'll go back." "What sort of fellows were they?" asked Tom, when, after a little further search, the hunt was given up. "Could you see them well, Ned?" "Not very good. Just as I went to get you that wrench I noticed two faces looking in the window. I must have taken them by surprise, for they dodged down in an instant. Then I yelled, and they ran off." "Did you see Andy Foger?" "No, I didn't notice him." "Was either of them one of the spies who had Mr. Petrofsky in the hut?" "I didn't see those fellows very well, you remember, so I couldn't say." "That's so, but I'll bet that's who they were." "What do you think they're after, Tom?" "One of two things. They either want to get our Russian friend into their clutches again, or they're after me--to try to stop me from going to Siberia." "Do you think they'd go to such length as that?" "I'm almost sure they would. Those Russian police are wrong, of course, but they think Mr. Petrofsky is an Anarchist or something like that, and they think they're justified in doing anything to get him back to the Siberian mines. And once the Russian government sets out to do a thing it generally does it--I'll give 'em credit for that." "But how do you suppose they know you're going to Russia?" "Say, those fellows have ways of getting information you and I would never dream of. Why, didn't you read the other day how some fellow who was supposed to be one of the worst Anarchists ever, high up in making bombs, plotting, and all that sort of thing--turned out to be a police spy? They get their information that way. I shouldn't be surprised but what some of the very people whom Mr. Petrofsky thinks are his friends are spies, and they send word to headquarters of every move he makes." "Why don't you warn him?"