“Fly away!” repeated Boy,—“you mean, run away!”
“Fly or run, it’s all the same, bless yer ’eart!” said Jack. “Get out of yer little hole in the rock and spread yer wings to the sun and the breeze! Hain’t yer got any friends?”
“Yes, I’ve one very good friend,” said Boy, thinking of Miss Letty. “She’s a very kind lady, and I’m going to write to her. But you see if I ran away I should be brought back again—I’m not very old—I’m not quite ten yet.”
“Not quite ten, ain’t yer!” said Jack, suddenly becoming conscious of the extreme youth and helplessness of his small friend. “That ain’t much, for sartin! Wal!—look ’ere,—I’ll tell you what I’ll do for ye—I’ll give ye a tiger’s tooth!”
Boy stared.
“Will you?” he said. “What’s it for?”
“A tiger’s tooth,” said Jack solemnly, “takes the owner through the forests o’ difficulty. A tiger’s tooth protects him agin his enemies! Mark that! Take it with ye to France! A tiger’s tooth bites traitors! A tiger’s tooth! Lord love ye!—a’most anythin’ can be done with a tiger’s tooth! Look at it!”
He fumbled in his pocket, and pulled out a shining white object of pointed ivory.
“That come from Bengal,” he said. “An’ ’e as give it to me was what they call a ma-geesan! He could swallow sarpints and fire quite promiskus-like,—seemed his nat’ral food. An’ ’e sed to me, ses ’e, ‘’Ere’s a tiger’s tooth for ye,—keep it in mem’ry of the world-famous Oriental conjurer Garoo-Garee!’ And then ’e guv a screech an’ was gone!”
Boy listened to this interesting narrative with awe. “What a wonderful man!” he said. “And his name was Garoo-Garee!”