“When we ’eard that the tiger ’ad been seen within three miles of Claybury things began to look serious, and Peter Gubbins said that something ought to be done, but before we could think of anything to do something ’appened.
“We was sitting up ’ere one evening ’aving a mug o’ beer and a pipe—same as I might be now if I’d got any baccy left—and talking about it, when we ’eard a shout and saw a ragged-looking tramp running toward us as ’ard as he could run. Every now and then he’d look over ’is shoulder and give a shout, and then run ’arder than afore.
“‘It’s the tiger!’ ses Bill Chambers, and afore you could wink a’most he was inside the house, ’aving first upset Smith and a pot o’ beer in the doorway.
“Before he could get up, Smith ’ad to wait till we was all in. His langwidge was awful for a man as ’ad a license to lose, and everybody shouting ‘Tiger!’ as they trod on ’im didn’t ease ’is mind. He was inside a’most as soon as the last man, though, and in a flash he ’ad the door bolted just as the tramp flung ’imself agin it, all out of breath and sobbing ’is hardest to be let in.
“‘Open the door,’ he ses, banging on it.
“‘Go away,’ ses Smith.
“‘It’s the tiger,’ screams the tramp; ‘open the door.’
“‘You go away,’ ses Smith, ‘you’re attracting it to my place; run up the road and draw it off.’”
“Just at that moment John Biggs, the blacksmith, come in from the taproom, and as soon as he ’eard wot was the matter ’e took down Smith’s gun from behind the bar and said he was going out to look after the wimmen and children.
“‘Open the door,’ he ses.