“That will make a nice party,” commented the circus man.  “Now I’ll make out a list of the supplies you’d better take, and tell you what to do about getting native helpers, and so on,” and with that he plunged into the midst of details that took up most of the remainder of the day.

“Well, then I guess that settles most everything,” remarked Tom, several hours later.  “I’ll begin at once to take the Lark apart for shipment, and begin ordering the things we need.”

“Oh, there’s one thing I almost forgot about,” said Mr. Preston suddenly.  “Queer, how I should overlook that, too.  I don’t suppose you mind a fight or two; do you?” he asked, looking sharply at Tom.

“Well, it all depends.  We’ve had several fights on other expeditions, though I can’t say that I like ’em,” replied the young inventor.  “Why do you ask?”

“Because you may have one—­or several,” was the answer of the circus man.  “You’ll have to beware of my rival.”

“Your rival?”

“Yes, the bitterest foe I have is a rival circus man named Wayland Waydell.  He, or some of his men, are always camping on my trail when I send out after a new consignment of wild animals, and I shouldn’t be a bit surprised but what he’d try to get ahead of me on the giant game.”

“But how does he know you want giants?” asked Tom.

“Because news of circus expeditions always leaks out somehow or other.  I’m sure Waydell will learn that you are acting for me, and so I warn you in time.  In fact, he tried to get ahead of me when I sent Jake Poddington out over a year ago, and I always had my suspicions that he had a hand in Jake’s disappearance, but maybe I’m wrong.  So that’s what I mean when I say beware of Wayland Waydell, Tom.”

“I will!” exclaimed Tom.  “He’ll have to get up early to get ahead of us.”  But Tom little knew the man against whom he was to pit himself in the search for giants.

CHAPTER V

ANDY FOGER LEARNS SOMETHING

Once Tom Swift made up his mind to do a thing, he did not waste time in setting about it.  He had decided to go to giant land, and that was all there was to it.  His father talked with him about the matter, pointed out the dangers, and suggested that, as the young inventor had had many adventures in the last few years, and had made considerable money from the discovery of the city of gold, and the platinum mines, the prize offered for a giant was not much of an inducement.

“But it isn’t that so much, dad,” explained Tom.  “There’s that poor circus man, maybe suffering in the centre of South America.  I want to find him, if I can, or get some news that he died a natural death, and is decently buried.”

“You never can do it, Tom.”

“Well dad, I’m going to make a big try!” he returned; and that settled it as far as Tom was concerned.

For several days after the visit of Mr. Preston Tom was busy making plans for his trip to South America.  He wanted to lay out a regular schedule before proceeding.  Ned Newton had had hard work to persuade his folks to let him go, but they finally consented, and as for Mr. Damon, his plan was simple.