"Oh-h-h! Is that why--?"

"That is why," he replied pathetically. "For living with that tiger
family so long, I almost turned into one myself. The tiger nature got
into me. I snarl and growl, I use my teeth ferociously when hungry, I
walk stealthily on tiptoe, I let my whiskers grow, and my colour has
the tint of Indian tigers' skins."

"Have you got a tail, too?"

He glared into the blue eyes of Maria, sternly. "It's growing," he
whispered horribly, "it's growing."

There was a pause in which credulity shook hands with faith. Belief
was in the air. If doubt did whisper, "Let me see, please," it was too
low to be quite audible. Come-Back Stumper was surrounded by an
atmosphere of black-edged glory suddenly; he wore a halo; his feet
were dipped in mystery.

"Then what's an orgully occasion?" somebody asked.

"This!" replied Stumper. But he uttered it so savagely that no one
cared to press for further details. Clearly it was a secret and
confidential moment, and "inaugural occasion" had something to do with
the glory of wearing an incipient tail. Glory and mystery clothed
Stumper from that moment with Indian splendour. At least, _he_ thought
so....

"And the tiger?" came the whispering question.