CHAPTER VI
ALARMING NEWS
"Hand me that hammer, Ned."
"There it is, right behind you, on the bench."
"Oh, so it is. Here are those nails you were asking for."
"Good. Now we'll make things hum," and Ned Newton's voice wasdrowned in the rapid driving of nails into boards.
"Bless my screw driver!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon, who wassawing planks to make covers for boxes.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom, looking up from a bundle he wastying up. It contained the magneto of his aeroplane and he wasputting waterproof paper about it. "Did you cut your finger?"
"No, but I just happened to think that I nailed my watch up in thatlast box."
"Nailed up your watch!" cried Mr. Preston, who, after a trip to NewYork to make arrangements for passages on a steamer, had come backto help Tom pack up.
"Yes, I took it out to see how long it took me to make a box cover,and then Tom asked me to nail up that box containing the motorparts, and I laid my watch right down on top, and put the boardsover it."
"Well, the only thing to do is to take off the cover," remarked Tomgrimly.
"Bless my chronometer! That will delay things," said the odd manwith a sigh. "But I suppose there is no hope for it," and heproceeded to open the box, while Tom, Ned, the circus man andEradicate busied themselves over the hundred and one things to bedone before they would be ready for the trip to the interior ofSouth America.
"Look out, Ned!" called Tom. "You're making those top boards toolong. They'll stick out over the edge, and be ripped off if the boxcatches on anything."
"Yes, you can't be too careful," cautioned Mr. Preston. "Each box orpackage must be the right weight, or the porters and mule driverswon't carry them into the interior. You may have to cross roughtrails, and even ford rivers. And as for bridges! well, the lesssaid about them the better. You aren't going to have any picnic, andif you want to back out, Tom Swift, now is the time to say so."
"What! Back out?" cried our hero. "Never! I said I'd go and I'mgoing. Ned, pass that brace and bit over, will you. I've got to borea hole for these screws."
And so the work went on in the big aeroplane shed, which they hadmade their packing headquarters.
The Lark, that small, but strong and speedy aeroplane, had beensafely packed, and most of it had been sent on ahead to New York,where the travellers were to take the steamer. There remained to betransported their clothing, weapons and ammunition, and severalbundles and cases of trinkets which would be of more value inbartering with the natives than money. Tom and Mr. Preston hadselected the things with great care, and at the last moment theyoung inventor had packed a box of his own, and said nothing aboutit. Included in it were some of his own and his father's inventions,and had one been given a glance into that same box he would havewondered at the queer things.
"What in the world are you taking with you, anyhow?" asked Ned, ofhis chum, noticing the mysterious box.
"'You'll see, if we ever get to giant land," replied Tom with asmile.
"How long before we can start?" asked Mr. Damon, late that day, whenmost of the hard work had been finished. He was as anxious and aseager as either of the youths to make a start.
"We ought to be ready at least a week from to-day," replied Tom,"and perhaps sooner."
"Sooner, if you can make it," suggested Mr. Preston. "The steamersails a week from to-day, and if you miss that one you'll have towait two weeks more."
"Then a week from to-day we'll sail," decided Tom, with emphasis."We'll work nights getting things in shape."
Really, though, not much more remained to be done, and the next dayMr. Preston again went to New York, accompanying a shipment of boxesand cases that Tom sent on ahead.
The two chums were busy in the aeroplane hangar a few days afterthis, nailing up the last of some light cases containing medicines,personal effects and comforts that would accompany them on theirtrip.
"Well, I'm glad of one thing," remarked Tom thoughtfully, as hedrove home the last nail in a box, "and that is that we won't bebothered with that Andy Foger on this trip. I haven't seen hide norhair of him in some time. I guess he and his father are down andout."
"I guess so. I haven't seen him either."
"Massa Andy were in town a few days ago," ventured Eradicate.
"He was?" cried Tom. "Did you see him? What was he doing, Rad?"
"Nuffin, same as usual. He done say I were too old to go on any morehexpiditions wif yo' an' I proved dat I wasn't."
"Proved that you weren't, Rad? How?" And Tom looked anxiously at hiscolored helper.
"Why, I done say t' him dat I was gwine wif yo'-all dis time, t' datComeaway country after a big orchard plant. Dat's how I done proveit to dat Andy Foger."
"Rad, you didn't tell him we were going to South America?" asked Tomreproachfully.
"Suah I done so, Massa Tom. Dat were de only way t' prove t' him datI wa'an't gittin' too old."
"Oh, Rad! I'm afraid--" and Tom hesitated.
"Oh, I don't believe it amounted to anything," interposed Ned. "Andydidn't have any one with him, did he, Rad?"
"No, Massa Ned. He were all alone by hisse'f."
"Then I guess it's all right, Tom. Andy was only rigging Eradicate,and he didn't pay any attention to what he said."
"Well, I hope so," and the young inventor wore a thoughtful air ashe resumed the finish of the packing.
The colored man, blissfully unconscious that he had been theinnocent cause of a grave danger that overhung Tom and his friends,whistled gaily as he gathered the boxes, bales and packages into apile, ready for the expressman, who was to call in the morning.
Tom, together with Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate, were to leave thefollowing afternoon, and stay in New York until the sailing of thesteamer. They preferred to be a day or so ahead of time than half anhour late, and were taking no chances.
"Bless my timetable!" exclaimed Mr. Damon that night, as they sat inthe library of the Swift home, checking over the lists to make surethat nothing had been forgotten, "bless my timetable, but it doesn'tseem possible that we are going to start at last."
"Yes, we'll soon be on the way to giant land," spoke Tom in a lowvoice. Somehow the young inventor did not seem to be in his usuallybright spirits.
"You don't seem very enthusiastic," remarked Ned. "What's thematter, Tom?"
"Oh, nothing much. Though I would feel better if I knew that AndyFoger didn't have any inkling of what our plans were," he added, forEradicate was not present.
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed his chum. "Mr. Preston will be here in themorning, and he'll know whether his rival has any idea of camping onour trail. Cheer up!"
"Yes, I suppose I am foolish to worry," admitted Tom, "but, somehowI can't help it. I wish Mr. Preston was here now to tell us thatWayland Waydell had gone off to the centre of Africa for a dwarf.Then I'd know we had nothing to fear. But I guess--"
Tom did not finish his sentence for, at that moment, there came apeal at the door bell. Instinctively every one started, and Mr.Damon exclaimed:
"Bless my burglar alarm! What's that?"
"Someone at the door, Tom," replied Mr. Swift calmly. "That'snothing unusual. It's early yet."
But, in spite of his reassuring words, there was a feeling of vaguealarm.
"I'll see who it is," volunteered Ned. "If it's Andy Foger--"
Mrs. Baggert entered the room at that moment. She had hurried to thedoor, and, as she entered she announced:
"Mr. Preston!"
"Yes, it is I!" added the circus man following her quickly into theroom. "I came on to-night instead of waiting for the morning, Tom. Ihave bad news for you!"
"Bad news!" gasped the young inventor. "Has Waydell got hold of yourplans."
"I'll wager it has something to do with Andy Foger!" exclaimed Ned.
"Neither one," spoke the circus man. "But I have just had a cabledispatch from one of my animal agents in Brazil, saying that war hasbroken out among the tribes in
the central part of South America. Abig native war is being waged all around giant land, as near as wecan figure it out."
"War among the native tribes!" exclaimed Mr. Swift.
"Yes, and one of the worst in years. Of course, Tom, after suchalarming news as this I won't hold you to your promise to go. It'sall off. I'm sorry, but you'd better wait. It won't be safe to gothere now. Better unpack, Tom."
For a moment there was a silence in the room. Then the younginventor leaped to his feet and faced the circus man.
"Unpack?" cried Tom in ringing tones. "Never! I'm going to giantland, fight or no fight! Ned, come with me and we'll put in some ofmy electric rifles. I wasn't going to take them along, but I willnow. Unpack? I guess not! I'm going to get a giant for you, Mr.Preston, and save Jake Poddington if he's alive. Come on, Ned."