er something Tom needed.

"Hello, Rad!" called Andy with a show of good feeling. "I haven't
seen you in some time. I suppose you're getting too old to travel
around with Tom any more?"

"Gittin' too old!" exclaimed the colored man indignantly, for that
was his sore point. "What yo'-all mean, Andy Foger? I ain't gittin'
old, an' neider am Boomerang."

"Oh, I thought you were, as you haven't been on any trips lately."

"I ain't, hey? Well I's gwine on one right soon, let me tell you
dat, Andy Foger!"

"No! Is that so? Glad to hear it. Up to the North Pole I suppose?"

"No, sah; not much! No cold country for this coon! I's gwine where
it's nice an 'warm, an' where de cocoanuts fall in yo' mouf--I mean
where de bananas an' oranges fall in you mouf, an' de monkeys frow
down cocoanuts an' palm leaf fans to yo'!"

"Where's that, Rad?" asked Andy, and he tried to make his voice
sound indifferent, as though the matter did not interest him.

"South America, dat's where it am, an' I's gwine wif Massa Tom. We's
gwine t' git a monstrous big orchard plant."

"Oh, yes; I've heard about them. Well, I hope you get all the
oranges and bananas you want. South America, eh? I suppose along the
Amazon river, where they have crocodiles forty feet long, that are
always hungry."

"No, sah! No crockermiles fo' me! We ain't goin' neah de Amerzon
riber at all. We's gwine away down in de middle part of South
America. It's a place suffin laik Gomeonaway--or Goonaway, or
suffin' laik dat."

"Oh, yes; I know where you mean!" and Andy could hardly conceal the
note of triumph in his voice. He had the very information he wanted
from the simple colored man. "Yes, I guess there are no crocodiles
there, and plenty of monkeys and cocoanuts. Well, I hope you have a
good time," and Andy hurried away to seek out the rival circus man.

CHAPTER VI

ALARMING NEWS

"Hand me that hammer, Ned."

"There it is, right behind you, on the bench."

"Oh, so it is. Here are those nails you were asking for."

"Good. Now we'll make things hum," and Ned Newton's voice was
drowned in the rapid driving of nails into boards.

"Bless my screw driver!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon, who was
sawing planks to make covers for boxes.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom, looking up from a bundle he was
tying up. It contained the magneto of his aeroplane and he was
putting waterproof paper about it. "Did you cut your finger?"

"No, but I just happened to thin