night, about two hours after the departure of Jimmy Travers. Mrs. Gordon
stepped to the door, and with some misgiving drew it open. The full moon
was shining brightly, and she saw two horsemen who had halted in the
highway opposite the gate.

"Good-evening!" said the spokesman, lifting his hat in salutation when he
observed the woman; "have you seen anything of a strange animal in this
neighborhood, madam? We have traced him almost to this spot, but have lost
track of him."

"Do you refer to the tiger that escaped from the menagerie this
afternoon?"

"That's the animal we're looking for."

"Yes; he was here late in the afternoon, and tried to jump through the
window."

"Did he hurt any one?" asked the man in alarm.

"No; we did not receive a scratch. My son shot him."

"What!" exclaimed the other; "did he kill the animal?"

"Oh, no," answered Mrs. Gordon (who was joined by Aunt Cynthia and Tom),
smiling at the fear of the visitors; "my boy is quite young, and isn't
much of a marksman; he thinks he hit the beast"--

"And I did too," interjected the lad, not pleased with this slur upon his
skill with the gun.