CHAPTER XVIII
TOM'S MYSTERIOUS BOX
The young inventor walked slowly back to the middle of the hut—a prison now it was—and sat down on a bench. The others followed his example, and the elaborate toy, with which they had hoped to win the king's favor, was laid aside. For a moment there was silence in the structure—a silence broken only by the pacing up and down of the giant guards outside. Then Eradicate spoke.
"Massa Tom," began the aged negro, "can't we git away from heah?"
"It doesn't seem so, Rad."
"Can't we shoot some of dem giants wif de 'lectric guns, an' carry a couple ob 'em off after we stun 'em like?"
"No, Rad; I'm afraid violent measures won't do, though now that you speak of the guns I think that we had better get them ready."
"You're not going to shoot any of them, are you, Tom?" asked Mr. Damon quickly.
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