The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “Where are you going?”

  “Oh, anywhere. Just to take a little run in the upper regions, and clear some of the cobwebs out of my head. I declare, I guess I’ve got the spring fever. I haven’t done anything since we got back from Russia last fall, and I’m getting rusty.”

  “You haven’t done anything!” exclaimed Ned, following his chum’s example by tossing aside the book. “Do you call working on your new invention of a noiseless airship nothing?”

  “Well, I haven’t finished that yet. I’m tired of inventing things. I just want to go off, and have some good fun, like getting shipwrecked on a desert island, or being lost in the mountains, or something like that. I want action. I want to get off in the jungle, and fight wild beasts, and escape from the savages!”

  “Say! you don’t want much,” commented Ned. “But I feel the same way, Tom.”

  “Then come on out and take a run, and maybe we’ll get on the track of an adventure,” urged the young inventor. “We won’t go far, just twenty or thirty miles or so.”

  The two youths emerged from the house and started across the big lawn toward the aeroplane sheds, for Tom Swift owned several speedy aircrafts, from a big combined aeroplane and dirigible balloon, to a little monoplane not much larger than a big bird, but which was the most rapid flier that ever breathed the fumes of gasolene.

  “Which one you going to take, Tom?” asked Ned, as his chum paused in front of the row of hangars.

  “Oh, the little double-seated monoplane, I guess that’s in good shape, and it’s easy to manage. When I’m out for fun I hate to be tinkering with levers and warping wing tips all the while. The Lark practically flies herself, and we can sit back and take it easy. I’ll have Eradicate fill up the gasolene tank, while I look at the magneto. It needs a little adjusting, though it works nearly to perfection since I put in some of that new platinum we got from the lost mine in Siberia.”

  “Yes, that was a trip that amounted to something. I wouldn’t mind going on another like that, though we ran lots of risks.”

  “We sure did,” agreed Tom, and then, raising his voice he called out: “Rad, I say Rad! Where are you? I want you!”

  “Comin’, massa Tom, comin’,” answered an aged colored man, as he shuffled around the corner of the shed. “What do yo’-all want ob me?”

  “Put some gasolene in the Lark, Rad. Ned and I are going to take a little flight. What were you doing?”

  “Jest groomin’ mah mule Boomerang, Massa Tom, dat’s all. Po’ Boomerang he’s gittin’ old jest same laik I be. He’s gittin’ old, an’ he needs lots ob ’tention. He has t’ hab mo’ oats dan usual, Massa Tom, an’ he doan’t feel ’em laik he uster, dat’s a fac’, Massa Tom.”

  “Well, Rad, give him all he wants. Boomerang was a good mule in his day.”

  “An’ he’s good yet, Massa Tom, he’s good yet!” said Eradicate Sampson eagerly. “Doan’t yo’ all forgit dat, Massa Tom.” And the colored man proceeded to fill the gasolene tank, while Tom adjusted the electrical mechanism of his aeroplane, Ned assisting by handing him the tools needed. Eradicate, who said he was named that because he “eradicated” dirt, was a colored man of all work, who had been in the service of the Swift household for several years. He and his mule Boomerang were fixtures.

  “There, I guess that will do,” remarked Tom, after testing the magneto, and finding that it gave a fat, hot spark. “That ought to send us along in good shape. Got all the gas in, Rad?”

  “Every drop, Massa Tom.”

  “Then catch hold and help wheel the Lark out. Ned, you steady her on that side. How are the tires? Do they need pumping up?”

  “Hard as rocks,” answered Tom’s chum, as he tapped his toe against the rubber circlets of the small bicycle wheels on which the aeroplane rested.

  “Then they’ll do, I guess. Come on now, and we’ll give her a test before we start off. I ought to get a few hundred more revolutions per minute out of the motor with the way I’ve adjusted the magneto. Rad, you and Ned hold back, while I turn the engine over.”

  The youth and the colored man grasped the rear supports of the long, tail-like part of the monoplane while Tom stepped to the front to twist the propeller blades. The first two times there was no explosion as he swung the delicate wooden blades about, but the third time the engine started off with a roar, and a succession of explosions that were deafening, until Tom switched in the muffler, thereby cutting down the noise. Faster and faster the propeller whirled about as the motor warmed up, until the young inventor exclaimed:

  “That’s the stuff! She’s better than ever! Climb up Ned, and we’ll start off. You can turn her over, Rad; can’t you?”

  “Suah, Massa Tom,” was the reply, for Eradicate had been on so many trips with Tom, and had had so much to do with airships, that to merely start one was child’s play for him.

  The two youths had scarcely taken their seats, and the colored man was about to twist around the fan-like blades of the big propeller in front, when from behind there came a hail.

  “Hold on there! Wait a minute, Tom Swift! Bless my admission ticket, don’t go! I’ve got something important to tell you! Hold on!”

  “Humph! I know who that is!” cried Tom, motioning to Eradicate to cease trying to start the motor.

  “Mr. Damon, of course,” agreed Ned. “I wonder what he wants?”

  “A ride, maybe,” went on Tom. “If he does we’ve got to take the Scooter instead of this one. That holds four. Well, we may as well see what he wants.”

  He jumped lightly from his seat in the monoplane and was followed by Ned. They saw coming toward them, from the direction of the house, a stout man, who seemed very much excited. He was walking so fast that he fairly waddled, and he was smiling at the lads, for he was one of their best friends.

  “Glad I caught you, Tom.” he panted, for his haste had almost deprived him of breath. “I’ve got something important to tell you. I hurried over as soon as I heard about it.”

  “Well, you’re just in time,” commented Ned with a laugh. “In another minute we’d have been up in the clouds.”

  “What is it, Mr. Damon?” asked Tom. “Have you got wind of a city of diamonds, or has some one sent you a map telling where we can go to pick up ten thousand dollar bills by the basket?”

  “Neither one; Tom, neither one. It’s something better than either of those, and if you don’t jump at the chance I’m mistaken in you, that’s all I’ve got to say. Come over here.”

  He turned a quick glance over his shoulder as he spoke and advanced toward the two lads on tiptoe as though he feared some one would see or hear him. Yet it was broad daylight, the place was the starting ground for Tom’s aeroplanes and save Eradicate there was no one present except Mr. Damon, Ned and the young inventor himself.

  “What’s up?” asked Tom in wonderment.

  “Hush!” cautioned the odd gentleman. “Bless my walking stick, Tom! but this is going to be a great chance for you—for us,—for I’m going along.”

  “Going where, Mr. Damon?”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute. Is there any one here?”

  “No one but us?”

  “You are sure that Andy Foger isn’t around.”

  “Sure. He’s out of town, you know.”

  “Yes, but you never can tell when he’s going to appear on the scene. Come over here,” and taking hold of the coat of each of the youths, Mr. Damon led them behind the big swinging door of the aeroplane shed.

  “You haven’t anything on hand; have you, Tom?” asked the odd gentleman, after peering through the crack to make sure they were unobserved.

  “Nothing at all, if you mean in the line of going off on an adventure trip.”

  “That’s what I mean. Bless my earlaps! but I’m glad of that. I’ve got just the thing for you. Tom, I want you to go to a strange land, and bring back one of the biggest men there—a giant! Tom Swift, you and I and Ned—if he wants to go—are going after a giant!”

  Mr.
Damon gleefully clapped Tom on the back, with such vigor that our hero coughed, and then the odd gentleman stepped back and gazed at the two lads, a look of triumph shining in his eyes.

  For a moment there was a silence. Tom looked at Ned, and Ned gave his chum a quick glance. Then they both looked sharply at Mr. Damon.

  “A—a giant,” murmured Tom faintly.

  “That’s what I said,” replied Mr. Damon. “I want you to help me capture a giant, Tom.”

  Once more the two youths exchanged significant glances, and then Tom, in a low and gentle voice said:

  “Yes, Mr. Damon, that’s all right. We’ll get you a giant right away. Won’t we, Ned? Now you’d better come in the house and lie down, I’ll have Mrs. Baggert make you a cup of tea, and after you have had a sleep you’ll feel better. Come on,” and the young inventor gently tried to lead his friend out from behind the shed door.

  “Look here, Tom Swift!” exclaimed the odd gentleman indignantly. “Do you think I’m crazy? Lie down? Rest myself? Go to sleep? Say, I’m not crazy! I’m not tired! I’m not sleepy! This is the greatest chance you ever had, and if we get one of those giants—”

  “Yes, yes, we’ll get one,” put in Ned soothingly.

  “Of course,” added Tom. “Come on, now, Mr. Damon. You’ll feel better after you’ve had a rest. Dr. Perkinby is coming over to see father and I’ll have him—”

  Mr. Damon gave one startled glance at the young inventor and his chum, and then burst into a peal of hearty laughter.

  “Oh, my!” he exclaimed at intervals in his paroxysms. “Oh, dear! He thinks I’m out of my head! He can’t stand that talk about giants! Oh dear! Tom Swift, this is the greatest chance you ever had! Come on in the house and I’ll tell you all I know about giant land, and then if you want to think I’m crazy you can, that’s all I’ve got to say!”

  CHAPTER II

  THE CIRCUS MAN

  Without a word Tom and Ned followed Mr. Damon toward the Swift house. Truth to tell the youths did not know what to say, or they would have been bubbling over with questions. But the talk of the odd man, and his strange request to Tom to go off and capture a giant had so startled the young inventor and his chum that they did not know whether to think that Mr. Damon was joking, or whether he had suddenly taken leave of his senses.

  And while I have a few minutes that are occupied in the journey to the house I will introduce my new readers more formally to Tom Swift and his friends.

  Tom though only a young man, was an inventor of note, as his father was before him. Father and son lived in a fine house in the town of Shopton, in New York state, and Mrs. Swift being dead, the two were well looked after by Mrs. Baggert their housekeeper. Eradicate Sampson, as I have said, was the man of all work about the place. Ned Newton who had a position in a Shopton bank, was Tom’s particular chum, and Mr. Wakefeld Damon, of the neighboring town of Waterfield, was a friend to all who knew him. He had the odd habit of blessing anything and everything he could think of, interspersing it in his talk.

  In the first volume of this series, called “Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle,” I related how Tom made the acquaintance of Mr. Damon, afterward purchasing a damaged motor-cycle from the odd gentleman. On this machine Tom had many adventures, incidentally saving some of his father’s valuable patents from a gang of conspirators. Later Tom got a motor boat, and had many races with his rivals on Lake Carlopa, beating Andy Foger, the red-haired bully of the town, in signal fashion. After his adventures on the water Tom sighed for some in the air, and he had them in his airship the Red Cloud.

  “Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat.” is a story of a search after sunken treasure, and, returning from that quest Tom built an electric runabout, the speediest car on the road. By means of a wireless message, later, Tom was able to save himself and the castaways of Earthquake Island, and, as a direct outcome of that experience, he was able to go in search of the diamond makers, and solve the secret of Phantom Mountain, as told in the book dealing with that subject.

  When he went to the caves of ice Tom had bad luck, for his airship was wrecked, and he endured many hardships in getting home with his companions, particularly as Andy Foger sought revenge on him.

  But Tom pluckily overcame all obstacles and, later, he built a sky racer, in which he made the quickest trip on record. After that, with his electric rifle, he went after elephants in the interior of Africa and was successful in rescuing some missionaries from the terrible red pygmies.

  One of the mission workers, later, sent Tom details about a buried city of gold in Mexico, and Tom and his chum together with Mr. Damon located this mysterious place after much trouble, as told in the book entitled, “Tom Swift in the City of Gold.” The gold did not prove as valuable as they expected, as it was of low grade, but they got considerable money for it, and were then ready for more adventures.

  The adventures soon came, as those of you who have read the book called, “Tom Swift and His Air Glider,” can testify. In that I told how Tom went to Siberia, and after rescuing some Russian political exiles, found a valuable deposit of platinum, which today is a more valuable metal than gold. Tom needed some platinum for his electrical machines, and it proved very useful.

  He had been back from Russia all winter and, now that Spring had 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 word about the buried city of gold in Mexico you didn’t hesitate a minute about making up your mind to go there; did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, that wasn’t any more of a strain on your imagination than this giant business; was it?”

  “Well, I don’t know, as—”

  “Bless my spectacles! Of course it wasn’t! Now, look here. Tom, you just make up your mind that I know what I’m talking about, and we’ll get along better. I don’t blame you for being a bit puzzled at first, but just you listen. You believe there are such things as giants; don’t you?”

  “I saw a man in the circus once, seven feet high. They called him a giant,” spoke Ned.

  “A giant! He was a baby compared to the kind of giants I mean,” said Mr. Damon quickly. “Tom, we are going after a race of giants, the smallest one of which is probably eight feet high, and from that they go on up to nearly ten feet, and they’re not slim fellows either, but big in proportion. Now in giant land—”

  “Here’s Mrs. Baggert with a quieting cup of tea,” interrupted Tom. “I spoke to her as we came in, and asked her to have some ready. If you’ll drink this, Mr. Damon, I’m sure—”

  “Bless my sugar bowl, Tom! You make a man nervous, with your cups of tea. I’m more quiet than you, but I’ll drink it to please you. Now listen to me.”

  “All right, go ahead.”

  “A friend
of mine has asked me if I knew any one who could undertake to go to giant land, and get him one or two specimens of the big men there. I at once thought of you, and I said I believed you would go. And I’ll go with you, Tom! Think of that! I’ve got faith enough in the proposition to go myself!”

  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.