“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 day Mr. Preston again went to New York, accompanying a shipment of boxes and cases that Tom sent on ahead.

The two chums were busy in the aeroplane hangar a few days after this, nailing up the last of some light cases containing medicines, personal effects and comforts that would accompany them on their trip.

“Well, I’m glad of one thing,” remarked Tom thoughtfully, as he drove home the last nail in a box, “and that is that we won’t be bothered with that Andy Foger on this trip.  I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him in some time.  I guess he and his father are down and out.”

“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 more hexpiditions wif yo’ an’ I proved dat I wasn’t.”

“Proved that you weren’t, Rad?  How?” And Tom looked anxiously at his colored helper.

“Why, I done say t’ him dat I was gwine wif yo’-all dis time, t’ dat Comeaway country after a big orchard plant.  Dat’s how I done prove it to dat Andy Foger.”

“Rad, you didn’t tell him we were going to South America?” asked Tom reproachfully.

“Suah I done so, Massa Tom.  Dat were de only way t’ prove t’ him dat I 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.  “Andy didn’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 as he resumed the finish of the packing.

The colored man, blissfully unconscious that he had been the innocent cause of a grave danger that overhung Tom and his friends, whistled gaily as he gathered the boxes, bales and packages into a pile, ready for the expressman, who was to call in the morning.

Tom, together with Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate, were to leave the following afternoon, and stay in New York until the sailing of the steamer.  They preferred to be a day or so ahead of time than half an hour late, and were taking no chances.

“Bless my timetable!” exclaimed Mr. Damon that night, as they sat in the library of the Swift home, checking over the lists to make sure that nothing had been forgotten, “bless my timetable, but it doesn’t seem possible that we are going to start at last.”

“Yes, we’ll soon be on the way to giant land,” spoke Tom in a low voice.  Somehow the young inventor did not seem to be in his usually bright spirits.