So without a moment’s hesitation the Celt drew aim and fired.
The leopard gave a quick, sharp yelp of pain, leaped in the air and fell dead.
The bullet had sped true to the mark. Barney was a dead shot.
“Hooray!” cried the excited Irishman. “I flunked him just off. Now av yez plaze, Misther Frank, will yez jist howld an wan minnit?”
Frank could not refuse this request, so he brought the Steam Man to a halt, saying:
“Pshaw! You don’t want his skin, Barney. It is of little use.”
“Don’t I?” exclaimed the Celt. “Yez kin jist bate I do. I’ll take it home to me friends in Ameriky, an’ tell thim what a foine shot I am.”
Barney opened the rear door and leaped out of the cage.
He went directly up to the leopard, and was about to lift the creature upon his shoulders, when a thrilling thing occurred.
Suddenly, from the same building, four more of the savage animals appeared.