"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.
"You don't seem very enthusiastic," remarked Ned. "What's the
matter, Tom?"
"Oh, nothing much. Though I would feel better if I knew that Andy
Foger didn't have any inkling of what our plans were," he added, for
Eradicate was not present.
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed his chum. "Mr. Preston will be here in the
morning, and he'll know whether his rival has any idea of camping on
our trail. Cheer up!"
"Yes, I suppose I am foolish to worry," admitted Tom. "but, somehow
I can't help it. I wish Mr. Preston was here now to tell us that
Wayland Waydell had gone off to the centre of Africa for a dwarf.
Then I'd know we had nothing to fear. But I guess--"
Tom did not finish his sentence for, at that moment, there came a
peal at the door bell.
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