"But—"
Luke continued his animal lullaby, he kept extending his hand. Straight up towards the lion's face he raised his arm fearlessly, now inside the danger line fully to the elbow.
"Hi! Back! Thunder! He'll eat you alive!" yelled a trainer, discovering the lad's venturesome position.
"S-sh. Good old fellow. Purr-rr. So—so."
Old Sultan bristled. Then his corded sinews relaxed. He lowered his muzzle. Andy stroked it gently. The animal sniffed and snuffed at his hand. He began to lick it.
Just then the trainer ran up. He gave Luke a violent jerk backwards, throwing him prostrate in the sawdust. With a frightful roar Sultan sprang at the bars of the cage, glaring apparently not at Luke, but at the trainer.
"Do you want to lose an arm?" shouted the latter, angrily. "You chump! that animal is a man-eater."
"I'm only a boy, though, you see?" said Luke, arising and brushing the sawdust from his clothes. "He wouldn't hurt me."
"Wouldn't, eh? Why—"
"He didn't, all the same. Did he, now? Say, mister, I'm a side show actor just now, but some day I'll work up to the cages here. Bet you I can make friends with your fiercest member."