This may have been the reason that Fred fancied he could detect a resemblance—very slight though it was—between the voice of Bud Heyland and that of the tramp who sat at the table in the old brick house, and who, beyond question, had a false beard on.
The young man with the whip in his hand simply looked back at the handsome countenance before him, and without any appearance of emotion, asked in turn:
"What are you talking about?"
Fred continued to look and smile, until suddenly Bud lost all self-command and whirled his whip over his head.
As he did so, the lash flew through the bars of the cage and struck the Numidian lion a sharp, stinging blow on the nose.
He gave a growl of anger, and half-rearing on his hind feet, made a furious clawing and clutching with both paws. The end of the lash seemed to have hit him in the eye, for he was furious for a minute.
Bud Heyland knew what the sounds behind him meant, and instead of striking the young lad whom he detested so much, he turned about in the hope of soothing the enraged lion.
He spoke kindly to the beast, and failing to produce any effect, was about to call one of the men to bring some meat, but at that instant every one near at hand was startled by a crashing, grinding sound, and the cage was seen to sway as if on the point of turning over.
Then, before any one could comprehend fully what had occurred, a huge form was seen to bound through the air in front of the cage, landing directly among the terrified group, who stood spell-bound, scarcely realizing their fearful peril.
"The lion is loose! the lion is loose!" was the next cry that rang through the enclosure.