"Why not?" exclaimed the Gopher. "The dogs are all right, even if they are down below. They might be of some assistance to us if the lions get ugly."
"Oh!" exclaimed the little boy, but before he could say any more the Lion coughed very fiercely, and spoke to the ex-Pirate.
"How many lions and tigers did you say there were on board of that ship?"
"About a hundred and ten, I reckon," answered the ex-Pirate.
"One hundred and ten," repeated the Lion, slowly. "And you gathered them all in?"
"We did. Every single one." The ex-Pirate's recklessness staggered Tommy and the Gopher. Then the Lion growled:
"That being the case, I think I shall have to gather you in." And he arose, followed by the tigers, and began to approach the ex-Pirate and the little boy. The Gopher became so alarmed that he dropped under the table and was never seen again. Tommy was so scared that he could not move. But the ex-Pirate jumped upon the table, and drawing both his pistols from his belt, aimed them at the approaching beasts and fired.
The flash, the bang, and the smoke caused Tommy to close his eyes tightly for a second, and he felt as though his heart had leaped into his throat.
When he opened them again he was sitting on the window-seat in his own room, and his mother was standing in the doorway.
"You must not leave the door and the windows open at the same time, Tommy," she was saying. "That causes a draught and makes the door slam. Get ready for supper; it is nearly tea-time."