“He is making himself at home,” muttered the young major. “Wish I could get a chance at him.”
“Here he comes again!” cried Pepper, and at that moment the tiger came out into the hall and turned partly around.
Jack had his pistol ready, and taking a quick aim, he pulled the trigger. There was a flash and a report, in the semi-dark hallway, and the tiger gave a snarl of pain. Then he glanced up the stairs, glared at the cadets, and came up four steps at a time.
“Into the room, quick!” yelled Jack, and blazed away twice in rapid succession. The tiger was struck in the fore leg, and came to a pause close to the top of the stairs. Jack fired one more shot, then followed his chums into the room, and the door was closed and locked.
“Did you hit him?” queried several, in concert.
“I certainly did, but I don’t know how badly he is wounded. Mrs. Ford, have you any cartridges for this pistol?”
“Yes,” answered the lady of the mansion, and brought forth a box half full. Without loss of time, Jack filled up the empty chambers of the pistol.
“He is snarling outside of the door!” cried Laura. “Oh, do you think he’ll try to break down the door?”
Before anybody could answer there came a wild snarl, and then a thump on the barrier that almost took the door from its hinges.
“Better get into the next room,” called out Pepper. “He’ll break in here if he can.”