"You think it's in there, do you?" he said, under his breath.
"Oh, Ann heard it! Such a horrible roar! Up in the very back part. How will you get at it to shoot it?"
"I'll call in the police as soon as I'm sure it's the tiger. If it was in the jungle I'd face it. But such animals are always doubly furious for being confined."
"There's a knot hole in the shed. You can peep, Jack. He won't see you."
But Jack was growing unaccountably pale, and his teeth were chattering. "I'd--I'd rather not open the door--on your account, Bess. He might run in."
"Fire your gun and he'll dash out into the yard!" cried Bess, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, in her excitement. "Good gracious! what will the girls say at school when they hear we've had a real tiger in our shed. If you'd only shoot him, and we'd have him stuffed."
"I mean to shoot when he comes out."
But Jack's fingers shook so as he adjusted the trigger that one would have thought he had the palsy.
"I'll tell you what to do!" shouted Bessy, clapping her hands. "I'll go down to the kitchen window, and throw a bone out in front of the shed-door, and when he rushes out for it, you look if it's the tiger or not."
"Very well."