Strange women would they have been not to have been wrought up by the
alarming tidings. Brushing aside the chaff, there remained the wheat in
Jim's words to the effect that the tiger, one of the finest of his kind
ever seen in captivity, had broken out of his cage, injured, if not
killed, a number of people, and was in the immediate neighborhood, with
the prospect of paying a visit to this home.

"The gun is loaded," said the mother, turning slightly pale; "but I don't
think one of those animals will attempt to enter a house."

"I have read that in India," remarked her sister-in-law, "they follow the
natives into their houses, and tear down the structures in their fury."

"But their dwellings are made of light bamboo, and are frail structures."

"We may as well be on the right side," remarked the other, stepping
hastily to the door. But just before reaching it, the latch flew up, and
Jim Travers plunged in, falling on his hands and knees, the picture of
terror itself.

"Shut the door quick!" he gasped. "The tiger is coming; he's coming; he's
right behind me."

In a twinkling, Aunt Cynthia sprang forward, caught the latch, and slid
the heavy bar in place, while the mother hastened to the window.

"Look out!" called Jim, clambering to his feet; "he'll spring right
through and chaw you up, quicker'n lightning."