There was no mistaking Mr. Damon’s manner.  He was very much in earnest, and Tom and Ned looked at each other with a different light in their eyes.

“Who is your friend, and where in the world is giant land?” asked Tom.  “I haven’t heard of such a place since I read the accounts of the early travelers, before this continent was discovered.  Who is your friend that wants a giant?”

“If you’ll let me, I’ll have him here in a minute, Tom.”

“Of course I will.  But good land!  Have you got him concealed up your sleeve, or under some of the chairs?  Is he a dwarf?” and Tom looked about the room as if he expected to see some one in hiding.

“I left him outside in the garden, Tom,” replied the odd man.  “I told him I’d come on ahead, and see how you took the proposition.  Don’t tell him you thought me insane at first.  I’ll have him here in a jiffy.  I’ll signal to him.”

Not waiting for a word from either of the boys, Mr. Damon went to one of the low library windows, opened it, gave a shrill whistle and waved his handkerchief vigorously.  In a moment there came an answering whistle.

“He’s coming,” announced the odd gentleman.

“But who is he?” insisted Tom.  “Is he some professor who wants a giant to examine, or is he a millionaire who wants one for a body guard?”

“Neither one, Tom.  He’s the proprietor of a number of circuses, and a string of museums, and he wants a giant, or even two of them, for exhibition purposes.  There’s lots of money in giants.  He’s had some seven, and even eight feet tall, but he has lately heard of a land where the tallest man is nearly ten feet high, and very big, and he’ll pay ten thousand dollars for a giant alive and in good condition, as the animal men say.  I believe we can get one for him, and—­Ah, here he is now,” and Mr. Damon interrupted himself as a small, dark-complexioned man, with a very black mustache, black eyes, a watch chain as big around as his thumb, a red vest, a large white hat, and a suit of large-sized checked clothes appeared at the open library window.

“Is it all right?” this strange-appearing man asked of Mr. Damon.

“I believe so,” replied the odd gentleman.  “Come in, Sam.”

With one bound, though the window was some distance from the ground, the little man leaped into the library.  He landed lightly on his feet, quickly turned two hand springs in rapid succession, and then, without breathing in the least rapidly, as most men would have done after that exertion, he made a low bow to Tom and Ned.

“Boys, let me introduce you to my friend, Sam Preston, an old acrobat and now a circus proprietor,” said Mr. Damon.  “Mr. Preston, this is Tom Swift, of whom I told you, and his chum, Ned Newton.”

“And will they get the giant for me?” asked the circus man quickly.

“I think they will,” replied Mr. Damon.  “I had a little difficulty in making the matter clear to them, and that’s why I sent for you.  You can explain everything.”