“I’d go again, if my business didn’t keep me here,” he concluded, “for I’d ask nothing better than to hunt for giant land, or try to rescue poor Jake.  But I can’t.  I’m depending on you, Tom Swift.”

“What’s that?  Giant land?” exclaimed Mrs. Baggert, the motherly housekeeper, as she came in to announce that dinner was ready.  “You don’t mean to tell me, Tom, that you’re going off again?”

“That’s what I am, Mrs. Baggert.  You’d better put me up a few sandwiches, for I don’t know when I’ll be back,” and Tom winked at his chum.

“Oh, of all things I ever heard in all my born days!” cried the housekeeper, throwing up her hands.  “Will you ever settle down, Tom Swift?”

“Maybe he will when Miss Mary Nestor is ready to settle down too,” said Ned mischievously, referring to a girl of whom Tom was very fond.

“Say, I’ll fix you for that!” cried our hero, as he made an unsuccessful grab for Ned.  “But, Mrs. Baggert, can you put on a couple of extra plates?  Mr. Damon and Mr. Preston will stay to lunch.”

“Not if it’s going to put you out, Tom,” objected the circus man.  “I can go to the hotel, and—­”

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Baggert graciously, for she prided herself on her housekeeping arrangements, and she used to say that unexpected company never “flustrated” her.  Soon the little party was seated around the table, where the talk went from grave to gay, the subject of the giants being uppermost.

Mr. Preston told many funny stories of his circus days, and some of them had the spice of danger in them, for he had been all over the world, either as a performer or as the owner of amusement enterprises.

“Now, the next question to be settled,” said the old circus man, when they were once more gathered in the library, “is how many are going?”

“I am, for one!” exclaimed Ned quickly.  “I’m sure my folks will let me.  Especially as we aren’t going to use an airship, but will travel just as ordinary folks do.”

“Except in case of emergency,” explained Tom.  “We’ll have the Lark to use if we need her.”

“Oh, of course,” agreed Ned.  “How about you, Mr. Damon?  Will you go?”

The odd man looked around the room before replying, as though he feared someone might be listening on the sly.

“Go on, Andy Foger isn’t here,” invited Tom with a laugh.

“I’ll go—­if I can pursuade my wife to let me,” said the odd man in a whisper, as if, even then, the good lady might overhear him.  “I’m not going to say anything about giants.  I’ll tell her we are going to rescue a poor fellow from—­er—­well from the natives of South America, and I’m sure she’ll consent.  Of course I’ll go.”

“That’s three,” remarked Tom.  “I think I can get Eradicate to go.  He doesn’t like airships, and when he knows we’re not going in one it will please him.  Then he likes it hot, and I guess South America is about as warm as they come.  I am almost sure we can count on Rad.”