sharp-clawed feet made a vicious sweep for the body of the lad
pressed so tightly against the bars.



CHAPTER XII

A THRILLING RESCUE

"Open the door and let the man out!" shouted Phil, with great
presence of mind. But no one seemed to have the power to move.

One sweep of the powerful claw and one side of the lad's clothes
was literally stripped from him, though he had managed to shrink
back just far enough to save himself from the needle like claws
of the tiger.

At this moment men came rushing from other parts of the tent.
Some bore iron rods, while two or three carried tent poles and
sticks--anything that the circus men could lay their hands upon.

Mr. Sparling was in the lead of the procession that dashed
through the crowd, hurling the people right and left as they ran.

With every spring of the tiger Phil was being thrown against the
bars with terrific force, but still he clung to the tail that was
wrapped about his arm, hanging on with desperate courage.

Though the lad was getting severe punishment, he was
accomplishing just what he had hoped for--to keep Bengal busy