“Forward march!”

“You don’t say so!” exclaimed the young inventor, when Ned had told him the queer news.  “Well, do you know I’ve been suspicious of that fellow ever since he tried to make friends with us.”

“Suspicious?  How so?  You don’t think—­”

“Oh, I mean I think he’s some kind of a confidence man who has adopted the respectable clothes of a minister to fool people.  He may be a card sharper himself.  Well, we won’t have anything more to do with him.  It won’t be long before we arrive at Buenos Ayres, and then we won’t be bothered with card sharpers or anybody else but—­”

“Giants and fighting natives,” finished Ned, with a laugh.  “You forget, Tom, that there’s a war going on near the very place we’re headed for.”

“That’s so, Ned.  But with what we have with us I guess we can make out all right.  I’m going to have the electric rifles handy the minute we start for the interior.”

The voyage continued, and was fast drawing to a close.  “Mr. Blinderpool” made several more attempts to strike up a friendship with Tom, or his chum, but they were on their guard now, and, failing to get into much of a conversation with the two young men, the pretended clergyman turned his attentions to Mr. Damon.

That eccentric gentleman welcomed him at first, until a quiet hint from Tom brought that to an end.

“Bless my fire shovel!” cried Mr. Damon.  “You don’t say so!  Not a clergyman at all?  Dear me!”

And then, getting desperate, and needing very much to learn how long a journey his rivals were to undertake, so that he, too, might prepare for it, Mr. Hank Delby, alias Blinderpool, began to “pump” Eradicate.

But the latter was too sharp for him.  Well knowing that a white man would not get suddenly friendly with one of the black race unless for some selfish object, Eradicate fairly snubbed the seeming minister, until that worthy had to go off by himself, saying bitter things and casting black looks at our friends.

“But I’ll get ahead of them yet!” he muttered, “and I’ll get their giants away from them, if they capture any.”

The box on which Tom set such an importance, and which had so nearly been the cause of a disaster, had been stored in one of the fire-proof compartments of the ship, and now, as a few days more would see the vessel entering the harbor of the Rio de la Plata, thence to steam up to the ancient city of Buenos Ayres, Tom and the others began to think of what lay before them.

“How do you propose to head into the interior?” asked Mr. Damon one afternoon, when the captain announced that the following morning would see them nearly opposite Montevideo.

“I’m going to hire a lot of burrows, donkeys or whatever they have down here that answers the purpose,” replied Tom.  “We have a lot of things to transport, and I guess pack mules would be the best, if we can get them.  Then I’ve got to hire some drivers and some porters, camp-makers and the like.  In fact we’ll have quite a party.  I guess I’ll need ten natives, and a head man and with ourselves we’ll be fifteen.  So we’ll need plenty of food.  But then we can get that as we go along, except when we get away into the interior, and then we’ll have to hunt it ourselves.”