<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
<h3><span class="smcap">Dave’s Tiger Story</span></h3>
<p class="cap">The next night, while Dave, who had promised
to tell them a tiger yarn, was pulling
his “thinking cap” on tight, and trying to select
his most fetching story, the boys gathered closer
about him, and with hearts beating a little faster
at the very mention of the word “tiger,” prepared
to listen.</p>
<p>At last Dave looked up, and in order to make
his story a trifle more thrilling, gave a little talk
on the bloodthirstiness of his majesty, the tiger.
When he concluded by the tense look on his
hearers’ faces that the right moment had arrived,
he plunged into</p>
<p class="noic"><span class="smcap">The Story of the Tiger</span></p>
<p>“One calm evening in the summertime, somewhat
later than usual, a gentleman stepped from
the train at a railroad station in a suburban town
and walked up the street toward his home. Deep
in thoughts of business, he did not notice at first
that a most unusual silence pervaded the town.
In a short time the deadly stillness roused him,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</SPAN></span>
and he noticed, wonderingly, that he was the only
person to be seen on the streets. Not a man,
woman, or child could he see, a most unusual
thing, as at that time, in the early evening, the
town was always a very lively place indeed. He
noticed, too, with amazement, that the doors and
windows of the houses were all closed. Not a
face appeared at any of them. All the windows
that had blinds or shutters attached had them
drawn tightly, and fastened securely. Not a sign
of life anywhere. What had happened? Had
everybody gone crazy?</p>
<p>“Amazed and frightened, he hurried on, up
one street and down another, until his own house
came into view. That, too, was closed and shuttered.
The welcoming face that had never failed
to greet him was not at door or window. Now,
thoroughly alarmed, he ran up the steps of the
porch and wildly rang the bell. The door was
opened cautiously, just a little crack, and to his
great relief the face of his wife appeared at the
tiny opening.</p>
<p>“At the sight of him the door opened wider.
He was clutched by the sleeve and hurried into
the house with scant ceremony. Before he could
get his breath after this amazing treatment the
door was closed and locked and double-locked
on the instant, and the white face of his wife
confronted the dazed man.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“His dinner was ready, but without waiting for
him to be seated at the table his wife commenced
to tell him the cause of the unusual state of affairs.
‘Did he remember that the wild animal
show was to have arrived in the town that day?’
‘No,’ he had not remembered, ‘but go on.’</p>
<p>“Well, it did come, and while the show was
in progress one of the animals, a tiger, had
escaped from the tent and raced up Main Street,
while everyone on the street hurried to the nearest
refuge. At the end of Main Street he dashed
into the woods, and though the crowd of pursuing
men and boys did their best to recapture him,
he was still at large. The manager of the show
told the people, while they ran madly in pursuit,
that the tiger was a new one, scarcely at all
trained, and by far the fiercest and most savage
of all the animals in the show. He warned
everyone to stay closely within doors that night,
and assured them that as soon as daylight appeared
every possible effort would be made to
capture and cage him. That is why everybody
is barricaded within doors.</p>
<p>“Of course, being a man, he laughed at his
wife’s fears, said there was no danger, and that
it was extremely foolish for everyone to be so
scared, and that, as for him, he would not lose
a wink of sleep worrying about it. His wife
noticed, however, that although he talked so<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</SPAN></span>
bravely, he kept closely within doors all the evening,
and that when they were ready to go upstairs
for the night he looked with unusual care at the
fastenings of all the doors and windows, both
upstairs and down. Once, as he fastened the bolt
of a window, he had stopped and grown a little
white at a slight scratching noise just outside the
window.”</p>
<p>Here a decided shiver ran around the camp,
furtive looks were cast over hiked shoulders, and
Sam, who for some minutes had been watching
a moving shadow just outside the line of camp
firelight, decided that the shadow was decidedly
tigerlike, and wanted to know if they did not
think the fire needed some more logs. “All
right, old man,” said Bob, and the logs went on.
They blazed up brightly, and gave every man
Jack, even the bravest of them, a more comfortable
feeling of security, and Dave went on with
the story:</p>
<p>“In the middle of that night the man found
himself suddenly awake, with an intense feeling
that someone or something was in the room.
Raising himself upon one elbow, he gazed searchingly
about the dim room, and was just about to
give himself a lecture for imagining things, when,
in the farthest and darkest corner, he saw what
appeared to be two great balls of green fire
glaring straight at him. At once the thought of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</SPAN></span>
the escaped tiger leaped into his mind, and he
knew that the fierce and savage beast was within
his room. For a moment his heart fairly stopped
beating, but, gaining control of himself with an
effort, he tried to think what he should do. He
reached over and laid his hand softly over his
wife’s lips and whispered in her ear. Then together
they watched the two glowing points of
fire, wondering with sick hearts how soon the
tiger would be upon them.</p>
<p>“They had not long to wait, for now the tiger
began crawling toward them, inch by inch, inch
by inch——”</p>
<p>At this point in the story the boys, utterly forgetful
of the world and everything in it, had
crowded close about the story teller, and with
flesh creeping and hair rising on their heads were
listening, open-mouthed, to the story. Dave had
paused to take breath, when every heart stood
still as a fierce scratching on the bark of a nearby
tree and a deep, savage growling were heard.</p>
<p>All sprang to their feet. Dick Trent was the
only one who remained cool. Having seen Bert
Wilson (who never lost an opportunity for a little
fun and mischief) steal quietly away under
cover of the darkness, he more than suspected
that something was going to happen, and so was
prepared.</p>
<p>Suddenly a burst of ringing laughter made itself<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</SPAN></span>
heard, and there on the grass lay Bert, rolling
over and over, holding his sides and saying
between gasps, “Oh, my! Oh, my! you did look
so funny! Hold me, somebody, or I <i>will</i> go to
pieces. Oh, my! Oh, my!”</p>
<p>At first the boys were inclined to be angry,
but they were good fellows and always ready to
laugh at a joke, even when it was on themselves,
and so with many a laughing threat to “get even
with Bert, and that mighty soon,” they came, a
little sheepishly, back to the fire and with one
accord begged Dave to go on with the story.</p>
<p>“Well,” resumed Dave, “we left the tiger
creeping inch by inch, inch by inch, toward his
two victims, and feeling very sure of his capture;
but the man was not the one to give up his life
or that of his wife without a brave effort to save
them. He whispered hastily to his wife, ‘Be prepared’”—here
a voice interrupted to exclaim,
“They ought to have been campers”—“‘to
jump out and roll way back under the bed the
instant I say Now!’</p>
<p>“By this time the tiger had come to within a
few feet of them, and they could see him in the
dim light, every muscle quivering, crouched for
a spring. The man had slipped his feet over the
side of the bed to the floor, and his hands
clutched the bedclothes from underneath.</p>
<p>“As the beast sprang the man shouted,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</SPAN></span>
‘Now!’ and at the same time flung the bedclothes
over the head and body of the tiger.
The two terrified people used the few minutes
the angry, snarling beast took to get out from
the tangle of bedclothes to roll as far under the
bed as they could. The bed was a very low one,
and the man knew that the tiger, who was very
large, could not creep under without raising the
bed with his shoulders. So the two resolved that
when he tried to get under, as they knew he
would, they would grip the steel springs above
them and hold on like grim death, and try to
hold the bed down.</p>
<p>“All too soon they found themselves holding
on to those springs with all the combined strength
of their muscles. The tiger tried again and again
to lift the bed, but could not get enough of his
shoulders under to get a purchase, and finding
himself baffled, crept away to his far corner to
consider what to do.</p>
<p>“The man knew that they could not keep the
tiger at bay in this way very long, for their
strength was nearly gone. Groping about desperately,
his hand touched his son’s tool box, pushed
carelessly under the bed. How thankful he was
that their boy was visiting relatives at a distance.
He, at least, was safe. He grasped the box as
a drowning man grasps a straw, and lifting a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</SPAN></span>
lid searched for and found a screw driver, and,
oh, joy! a few large screws.</p>
<p>“Working desperately, and more rapidly than
ever in his life before, he drove a couple of the
screws through the two top legs of the bed, securing
them to the floor. Another two minutes
and he had one of the bottom legs in the same
condition. Before he could touch the fourth leg
the tiger, angered by the noise of the screw driving,
bounded forward and again tried to lift the
bed. Finding he could not get at them, the tiger
suddenly sprang upon the bed and began tearing
at the mattress. Very soon there was nothing
between him and the now almost despairing
couple but the woven wire springs. These springs
were of extra strong, fine quality, but even these
could not hold out long against the onslaught of
those terrible, powerful claws.</p>
<p>“Almost mechanically the man again thrust
his hand into the box, and drew out a small saw.
The idea came to him to cut a hole through the
floor into the ceiling of the room below, slip
through, and rush for help. He spoke to his
wife, and found she had fainted. He worked
desperately, faster and faster, while all the time
the tiger tore more and more fiercely at the
tough springs. His hot, terrible breath swept
across their faces, so close to that snarling one<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</SPAN></span>
above them, while the saliva dropped from his
savage jaws.</p>
<p>“Almost fainting with disgust and terror, the
man worked on still more desperately, for dear
life now. At last one side was finished, then another,
now the third, and a little hope came back
to the man’s heart. If he could only finish that
other side he would have at least a slight chance
of escape. But now the tough woven wire links
began to give way under the tearing of the tiger’s
savage claws. In one place a small hole is broken
in the wire. In mad haste the man tears the saw
through the wood. It seems as if it would never
give way. Once the saw slips and bends. What
if it should break! One more desperate, despairing
effort. Only two more inches now, only one,
only a half inch. At last it is over, and the saw
drops from his nerveless hand. He makes a last
effort to arouse his wife, but without avail. He
cannot bear to leave her, for he fears that before
he can get help and return the tiger will be upon
her. What can he do? It is his only chance to
save her. He <i>must</i> take it.</p>
<p>“The tiger, as if he knew a crisis had come,
ceased his tearing and lay above them, watching
with angry fire flashing from his eyes, and keeping
up a low, savage snarling.</p>
<p>“With a muttered prayer for protection for his
poor wife and help for himself, the man lowered<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</SPAN></span>
himself through the opening until he found
himself suspended from the ceiling of the lower
room. In desperate haste to go for help, he is
about to drop to the floor, but pauses to hear if
there is any sound or movement in the room
above. Not a sound. There is comfort in that,
for his poor wife must be safe as yet, but what
is the tiger doing? Why is everything so deadly
quiet? Incensed at the escape of one of his victims,
one would suppose him to be all the more
eager to secure the other; but there is no sound.
What can he be doing?</p>
<p>“At this moment an awful thought comes to
him. What if the cunning tiger had crept silently
down the stairs into the room below? He
remembers that the door into that room was
open when they passed it on their way upstairs.
How safe they had felt then! How little had
they dreamed that this awful thing would come
upon them! Could it be only a few hours since
they had gone upstairs, chatting cheerfully together?
It seemed days and days ago. Perhaps
the tiger was at that moment crouched below him
there in the darkness, ready to spring upon him
the moment, yes, even before, his feet touched
the ground.</p>
<p>“The awful thought made him pause, and he
hung there with fiercely throbbing heart, undecided
what to do. If he could hear one sound<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</SPAN></span>
of the tiger moving in the room above him he
could drop, quickly close the door, and rush
away for help. Still no sound from his wife’s
room. What should he do? Perhaps it would
be better to try to hold on until morning, when
he could at least have the blessed light to aid
him. It could not be long now before daybreak.
Surely out of doors there must be daylight now.
Soon it would come into the room and enable him
to look about him. Yes, that would be the best
and only thing to do.</p>
<p>“But no; he cannot! His strength is failing.
Already his numbed fingers are slipping—slipping—another
moment and the tiger will be upon
him and all will be over. He can hold on no
longer. He is falling—falling——</p>
<p>“‘John! Oh, John!’ comes a cheerful voice
from below. ‘Aren’t you coming down? It is
almost train time, and breakfast is ready.’</p>
<p>“John sits up in bed, looking with dazed eyes
all around the bright room, flooded with morning
sunshine, and it is minutes before he realizes
that it is <i>all a dream</i>!”</p>
<p>If anyone could have taken a photograph of
the boys’ faces just before the conclusion of the
story and another just after it, the two pictures
would have been a comic study; but they could
not have given the transition from faces filled
with rapt, motionless, breathless interest to the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</SPAN></span>
astonished, somewhat disgusted look as the totally
unexpected ending of the story filtered in
upon them.</p>
<p>Mr. Hollis, who had listened to the last part
of the story with as much interest as the boys,
thanked Dave for the pleasure he had given
them, but could not keep back a smile as Shorty
voiced the general sentiment, “You ought to be
ashamed, Dave Ferris, for handing us such a
lemon.”</p>
<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</SPAN></span></p>
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