ppened.

Jim Travers paid no heed to what his young friend was doing. Stooping over
the burning wood in the fireplace, the flame of which was quite feeble,
because the day was mild, he began fanning it with his hat. He was thus
employed, and Tom was in the act of capping the rifle, when a crash
against the nearest shutter made the building tremble.

The startled inmates stared trembling in each other's faces.

"It's the tiger!" whispered Mrs. Gordon, uttering a truth that was
manifest to every one.

"He is determined to get at us," added Aunt Cynthia. "What shall we do?"

"I'll fetch him this time," was the confident response of Tom, "if I can
only get a fair aim."

"You had better let me have the gun," said his mother, who was in a
momentary panic.

"Let me try it once more."

"But there is no chance here; it will not do to open the shutter: he will
spring right in among us."

"Up-stairs is the best place," said Tom, hurrying up the steps again.

Meanwhile, Jim Travers, who had been so terrified, displayed more coolness
than any one in the house. Probably he felt so much confidence in his new
scheme, that he was warranted in this self-possession.

Like the rest, he was startled by the crash against the shutter. He rose
to his feet, stared at the window, and, seeing that the beast had not
broken through, stooped and resumed fanning the blaze with more vigor than
ever. At this juncture Tom called from above,--

"Where is he? I can't see him."

He had peered from the front and rear windows without catching sight of
the tiger. The reason was evident: the animal was so near the house that
he could not be observed without raising the sash and thrusting out the
head. It was well the lad was too prudent to do that.

Afraid that their voices might rouse his anger, the mother stepped to the
foot of the stairs and called to her boy,--

"Keep quiet, Tom! He is somewhere near, but we can't see him any more than
you. If we remain still, perhaps he will go away."

Jim Travers, having fanned the pieces of wood on the hearth into a
crackling blaze, stepped softly to the window against which the tiger had
flung himself, and bent his head in close attention.

"Mercy!" exclaimed Aunt Cynthia in an undertone, "come away; if he jumps
through, he will land on top of your head."

"_Sh!_" whispered the boy, holding up one hand as a warning for them to
keep silent; "_I hear him!_"

So he did. The tiger was trotting back a