A cold chill crept along her nerves at thoughts of the savage animal she herself had twice encountered. She wondered just what Grenville's method would be—in overcoming some of the things he had vowed to conquer.
"You hardly expect to shoot the creature, then, after all?"
He held up the fork he was carving, for critical examination.
"I'm rather inclined to favor the plan of leaving a bait in the jungle, and letting go a bomb when he comes to dine."
Her natural concern for the man's own safety could not be long expelled.
"How shall you know when he comes?" she inquired, and she dared look up as before.
Grenville continued to bend his gaze on his labor.
"I expect to hang around and see."
A sudden fear and sinking of the vitals seized her, unaware.
"But—doesn't a tiger usually feed at night?"