I sprang out of bed and rushed into the hall in time to see Tom dash out of it into the dining-room, mother-in-law and the girl disappearing up stairs and the two hired men through the barn door.

My husband soon followed Tom, who had taken refuge under a large heavy falling-leaf table, and seemed inclined to stay there.

This time his collar was broken and feeling the advantage he paid no heed to the hand or voice of his quandom master.

He would not move, but growled defiance, and the table protected him from a blow under the ear, so his late master became utterly nonplussed.

If the cage were there, the great beast would probably go into it, but how get it there?
The wealth of India would not have induced one of those men to come out of that barn, or one of those women to come down those stairs.
Something must be done, and I proposed to hold Tom while my husband brought the cage.