Part 22 (1/2)

”Do you suppose they understood what Delby said?” asked Ned.

”Not a bit of it! He was just desperate when he yelled out that way.

He saw that we had an advantage on him--or at least I thought we did, but I guess we didn't,” and Tom gazed out of the windows in front of each of which stood two of the largest giants. By means of the torches it could be seen that the circus man was being taken to another hut, some distance away from the royal one. Then, after an awed silence, there broke out a confused talking and shouting among the giant population, that was drawn up in a circle a respectful distance from the hut where the captives were confined. Doubtless they were discussing what had taken place, hoping and yet fearing, that there might be more fireworks.

”Well, we might as well go to bed,” declared Tom at length. ”We can't do any more to-night, and I'm dead tired. In the morning we can talk over new plans. My box of tricks isn't exhausted yet.”

In spite of their strange captivity our friends slept well, and they did not awaken once during the night, for they had worked hard that day, and were almost exhausted. In the morning they looked out and saw guards still about the hut.

”Now for a good breakfast, and another try!” exclaimed Tom, as he washed in a big earthen jar of water that had been provided.

Freshened by the cool liquid, they were made hungry for the meal which was brought to them a little later. They noticed that the women cooks looked at them with fear in their eyes, and did not linger as they had done before. Instead they set down the trays of food and hurried away.

”They're getting to be afraid of us,” declared Tom. ”If we could only talk their language--”

”By Jove!” suddenly interrupted Ned. ”I've just thought of something. Jake Poddington you know--the agent for Mr. Preston who so mysteriously disappeared.”

”Well, what about him?” asked Tom. ”Did you see him?”

”No, but he may be here--a captive like ourselves. If he is he's been here long enough to have learned the language of the giants, and if he could translate for us, we wouldn't have any trouble. Why didn't we think of it before? If we could only find Mr. Poddington!”

”Yes, IF we only could,” put in Tom. ”But it's a slim chance. I declare I've forgotten about him in the last few days, so many things have happened. But what makes you think he is here, Ned?”

”Why he started for giant land, you'll remember, and he may have reached here. Oh, if we could only find him, and save him and save ourselves!”

”It would be great!” admitted Tom. ”But I'm afraid we can't do it.

There's a chance, though, that Mr. Poddington may be here, or may have been here. If we could only get out and make some explorations or some inquiries. It's tough to be cooped up here like chickens.”

Tom looked from the window, vainly hoping that the guards might have been withdrawn. The giants were still before the windows and doors.

For a week this captivity was kept up, and in that time Tom and his friends had occasional glimpses of Hank Delby going to and from the king's hut. His majesty himself was not seen, but there appeared to be considerable activity in the giant village.

From their prison-hut the captives could see the native market held in the big open s.p.a.ce, and giants from surrounding towns and the open country came in to trade. There were also curious about the white captives, and there was a constant throng around the big hut, peering in. So also there was about the hut where the circus man had his headquarters. Delby seemed to be free to come and go as he choose.

”I guess he's laying his plans to take a giant or two away with him,” remarked Tom one day. ”I wonder what will become of us, when he does go?”

It was a momentous question, and no one could answer it. Tom was doing some hard thinking those days. Two weeks pa.s.sed and there was no change. Our friends were still captives in giant land. They had tried, by signs, to induce their guards to take some message to the king, but the giants refused with shakes of their big heads.

Yet the adventurers could not complain of bad treatment. They were well fed, and the guards seemed good natured, laughing among themselves, and smiling whenever they saw any of the captives. But let Tom or some of the others, step across the threshold of the door, and they were kindly, but firmly, shoved back.

”It's of no use!” exclaimed Tom in despair one day, after a bold attempt to walk out. ”We've got to do something. If we can't get word to the king we've got to plan some way to gain the friends.h.i.+p, or work on the fear of the guards. We have about the same crowd every time. If we can scare them they may keep far enough off so we can have a chance to escape.”

”Escape! That's the thing!” cried Mr. Damon. ”Why can't we put the airs.h.i.+p together in this hut, Tom, and fly away in it?”

”We can, when the right time comes--if it ever does--but first we've got to work on the guards. Let me see what I can do? Ha! I have it.

Ned, come here, I want your help. I'm going to show these giants that, with all their strength, I can make each of them as weak as a baby, and, at the same time prove that they can't lift even a light weight.”

”How you going to do it?” asked Mr. Damon.

”I'll soon show you. Come on, Ned.”