come again, our hero sighed for more activity, and fresh adventures.
And with the advent of Mr. Damon, and his mysterious talk about
giants, Tom seemed likely to be gratified.

The two chums and the odd gentleman continued on to the house, no
one speaking, until finally, when they were seated in the library,
Mr. Damon said:

"Well, Tom, are you ready to listen to me now, and have me explain
what I meant when I asked you to get a giant?"

"I--I suppose so," hesitated the young inventor. "But hadn't I
better call dad? And are you sure you don't want to lie down and
collect your thoughts? A nice hot cup of tea--"

"There, there, Tom Swift; If you tell me to lie down again, or
propose any more tea I'll use you as a punching bag, bless my boxing
gloves if I don't!" cried Mr. Damon and he laughed heartily. "I know
what you think, Tom, and you, too, Ned," he went on, still
chuckling. "You think I don't know what I'm saying, but I'll soon
prove that I do. I'm fully in my senses, I'm not crazy, I'm not
talking in my sleep, and I'm very much in earnest. Tom, this is the
chance of your life to get a giant, and pay a visit to giant land.
Will you take it?"

"Mr. Damon, I--er--that is I--"

Tom stammered and looked at Ned.

"Now look here, Tom Swift!" exclaimed the odd man. "When you got