"Bless my war club, Tom, aren't you a little rash to talk that way?" asked Mr. Damon.
"No. As I said, I want things to happen. If I can only get the king curious enough to come here I can show him things to open his eyes. I'll work the miniature circus, and explain that some of his subjects can take part in a real one if they will come with us. I want to beat this Delby at his own game."
"That's the stuff!" cried Ned. "Stick to it, Tom. I'll help you, and we'll get a giant or two yet. And maybe we can get some news of poor Jake Poddington."
"I intend to make inquiries about him, now that these guards are a little more friendly," said Tom. "It may be that he is a prisoner in this very village."
The giant guards, now that they had gotten over their fright at their own inability to raise the bar while Tom had lifted it with one finger, again crowded around, asking that the trick be repeated. Tom did it, with the same result.
None of the giants could move the iron, yet Tom had no difficulty in doing so. Of course my readers have already guessed how the trick was done. It was worked by a strong magnet, hidden in the floor. At a signal from Tom, Ned would switch on the current. The iron would be held
