"What kind of an animal was it?" Ralph asked of Griscom.
"Toothless old bear, I suppose, or a blind lion," bluffly answered the railroad veteran, who did not have a very high opinion of the average circus wild beast.
Just here the menagerie manager seemed to discover an opportunity for advertising the show and lauding its attractions.
"I beg of you, gentlemen," he said, in a suave tone, as the crowd made a move to follow the searching party--"don't impede our efforts by getting in the way. Calcutta Tom, the largest and fiercest Indian tiger in captivity in any menagerie in the country, is loose. This superb king of the forests killed five men before he was caged, was brought to this country at a cost of six thousand dollars, and, if captured now, will be on exhibition this afternoon, along with the most marvelous aggregation of brute and human celebrities on the face of the civilized globe to-day."
"And all for twenty-five cents--lemonade and popcorn a nickle extra," piped a mischievous urchin.
[CHAPTER IX--CALCUTTA TOM]
Ralph walked in the direction of the switch tower.
He noticed that all the tracks seemed unusually inactive, even for the noon hour. The main rails were perfectly clear, and a good many locomotives were on the sidings.
Glancing up at the switch tower, Ralph was a good deal surprised to notice that it was entirely unoccupied.
This was startling. Ralph had never known that post of the service to be untenanted at any hour of the day or night.