"Made me a number of bitter enemies, sir. Why, the native doctors absolutely hate me. My word! I should not like to be taken ill and become helpless. They'd never let me get well again if they had the doctoring."
"Don't be too hard on them," said Mr. Kenyon.
"Not I, my dear sir. I only speak as I think. So you would not take a step in our defence?"
"Not until we were certain that it was necessary; then as many as you like. Steps? I'd make them good long strides. But say no more: the boys are coming back, and we don't want to set them thinking about such things."
In effect, steps were heard in the verandah, and a few minutes later
Harry hurried into the museum again.
"Well, boy!" cried the doctor. "What is it? you look hot."
"Tiger," said Harry eagerly.
"Where?" cried Mr. Kenyon and his visitor in a breath.
"Over yonder, by the new sugar plantation," cried Harry. "Jumped on a man and killed him. Sree has just heard the news. He told me and Phra."
"How horrible!" said Mr. Kenyon.