'and on the door he 'eard something moving inside, and the next moment
the door opened and there stood Bob Pretty.

"'What the dickens!' 'e ses, starting back as 'e see the guns and
pitchforks pointing at 'im.

"''Ave you killed it, Bob?' ses George Kettle.

"'Killed _wot?'_ ses Bob Pretty. 'Be careful o' them guns. Take your
fingers off the triggers.'

"'The tiger's in your 'ouse, Bob,' ses George Kettle, in a whisper.
''Ave you on'y just come in?'

"'Look 'ere,' ses Bob Pretty. 'I don't want any o' your games. You go
and play 'em somewhere else.'

"'It ain't a game,' ses John Biggs; 'the tiger's in your 'ouse and we're
going to kill it. Now, then, lads.'

"They all went in in a 'eap, pushing Bob Pretty in front of 'em, till the
room was full. Only one man with a scythe got in, and they wouldn't 'ave
let 'im in if they'd known. It a'most made 'em forget the tiger for the
time.

"George Kettle opened the door wot led into the kitchen, and then 'e
sprang back with such a shout that the man with the scythe tried to
escape, taking Henery Walker along with 'im. George Kettle tried to
speak, but couldn't. All 'e could do was to point with 'is finger at Bob
Pretty's kitchen--_and Bob Pretty's kitchen was for all the world like a