“He has taken to the tree!”
“Let me give him a shot too,” pleaded Andy, and having received the pistol, he awaited his opportunity, and blazed away, hitting the beast in the side. There was a snarl, and the tiger fell to the grass, rolling over and over in evident pain.
“Good!” cried Jack. “That’s one of the shots that told! Give him another, Andy!” and the cadet did so.
“What’s all this shooting about?” came from the roadway, and Mr. Ford appeared, in company with his gardener. “Gracious! Where did that tiger come from?” he added.
“It’s the one that got away from the circus the other day!” called down Jack. “Look out, there may be some fight left in him yet, although we have peppered him pretty well.”
“Throw down the pistol and I’ll finish him,” said the gentleman.
“Let us finish him, won’t you?” pleaded Pepper.
“All right, you can do so.”
All three of the cadets went down the front stairs with a rush, while the girls and Mrs. Ford came out on the upper balcony. Pepper fired one shot, Jack a second, and Andy a third. The last was too much for his tigership, and with a final quiver he rolled over, stretched out, and lay dead.
“Is he—he dead?” asked the gardener cautiously.