“It’s all right now,” said Mouser, lifting the latch of the gate. “Come along, fellows.”
“Gee whiz!” exclaimed Bobby. “How do you do it?”
“You ought to be with a circus,” said Fred in undisguised admiration. “You’d make a dandy lion tamer.”
Mouser was elated at the tribute, but accepted it modestly enough, and led the way up to the house, the dog prancing along with them in the most friendly manner.
As they reached the door and were about to knock, it was opened, and a motherly looking woman appeared on the threshold. There was an expression of anxiety on her face.
“Down, Tiger, down,” she cried. Then as she saw the evident pleasure of the brute in the boys’ company, her worried expression changed to one of surprise.
“Mercy on us!” she exclaimed. “I was afraid the dog would eat you up. He’s awfully savage, but we keep him on account of there being so many tramps around. I was upstairs when I heard him barking, and I hurried down as fast as I could, for I was sure he’d bite you if you came inside the gate.”
“Oh, Tiger’s a good friend of mine, aren’t you, Tiger?” laughed Mouser, as he stooped to caress the dog.
Tiger licked his hand.
“Well, I never saw anything like it,” said their hostess. “I just can’t understand it. But here I am keeping you standing outside when you must be half perished with the cold,” she went on with quick sympathy. “Come right inside and get warm before you say another word.”