sinuous folds over the low limbs.

In fancy he saw dark-skinned natives slinking along with their
deadly blow guns, and poisoned arrows. He thought he could hear the
low growls and whines of the treacherous jaguars and see their lithe
bodies slinking along. He saw the brilliant-hued flowers, saw the
birds of gorgeous plumage, and listened in fancy to their discordant
cries.

Then, too, he saw a lonely white man in a miserable native hut
thousands of miles from civilization, waiting, waiting, waiting for
he knew not what fate. Again he saw monstrous men stalking along--
men who towered ten feet or more, and who were big and brawny. All
this passed through the mind of Tom in an instant.

"Well?" asked Mr. Preston softly.

"I'll go!" suddenly cried the young inventor. "I don't know whether
I can get you a giant or not, Mr. Preston, but if it's possible I'll
get poor Jake Poddington, dead or alive!"

"Good!" cried the circus man, jumping up and clasping Tom's hand. "I
thought you were that kind of a lad, after I heard Mr. Damon
describe you. You've taken a big load off my heart, Tom Swift. Now
to talk of ways and means! I'll have a giant yet, and maybe I'll get
back the best man who ever shipped a consignment of wild animals,
good Jake Poddington! Now to business!"