A Tiger's Skin Page 3

'im andhunt the tiger. Bill Chambers, who was still grieving after 'is pig,said 'e would, then another man offered, until at last there wasseventeen of 'em. Some of 'em 'ad scythes and some pitchforks, and oneor two of 'em guns, and it was one o' the finest sights I ever seed whenGeorge Kettle stood 'em in rows of four and marched 'em off.

  "They went straight up the road, then across Farmer Gill's fields to getto Plashett's wood, where they thought the tiger 'ud most likely be, andthe nearer they got to the wood the slower they walked. The sun 'ad justgone down and the wood looked very quiet and dark, but John Biggs, theblacksmith, and George Kettle walked in first and the others follered,keeping so close together that Sam Jones 'ad a few words over hisshoulder with Bill Chambers about the way 'e was carrying 'is pitchfork.

  "Every now and then somebody 'ud say, _'Wot's that!'_ and they'd all stopand crowd together and think the time 'ad come, but it 'adn't, and thenthey'd go on agin, trembling, until they'd walked all round the woodwithout seeing anything but one or two rabbits. John Biggs and GeorgeKettle wanted for to stay there till it was dark, but the others wouldn't'ear of it for fear of frightening their wives, and just as it wasgetting dark they all come tramp, tramp, back to the 'Cauliflower' agin.

  "Smith stood 'em 'arf a pint apiece, and they was all outside 'erefancying theirselves a bit for wot they'd done when we see old manParsley coming along on two sticks as fast as 'e could come.

  "'Are you brave lads a-looking for the tiger?' he asks.

  "'Yes,' ses John Biggs.

  "'Then 'urry up, for the sake of mercy,' ses old Mr. Parsley, putting 'is'and on the table and going off into a fit of coughing; 'it's just goneinto Bob Pretty's cottage. I was passing and saw it.'

  "George Kettle snatches up 'is gun and shouts out to 'is men to comealong. Some of 'em was for 'anging back at first, some because theydidn't like the tiger and some because they didn't like Bob Pretty, butJohn Biggs drove 'em in front of 'im like a flock o' sheep and then theygave a cheer and ran after George Kettle, full pelt up the road.

  "A few wimmen and children was at their doors as they passed, but theytook fright and went indoors screaming. There was a lamp in Bob Pretty'sfront room, but the door was closed and the 'ouse was silent as thegrave.

  "George Kettle and the men with the guns went first, then came thepitchforks, and last of all the scythes. Just as George Kettle put 'is'and on the door he 'eard something moving inside, and the next momentthe door opened and there stood Bob Pretty.

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

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

  "'Killed _wot?'_ ses Bob Pretty. 'Be careful o' them guns. Take yourfingers 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 goand play 'em somewhere else.'

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

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

  "George Kettle opened the door wot led into the kitchen, and then 'esprang back with such a shout that the man with the scythe tried toescape, taking Henery Walker along with 'im. George Kettle tried tospeak, but couldn't. All 'e could do was to point with 'is finger at BobPretty's kitchen--_and Bob Pretty's kitchen was for all the world like apork-butcher's shop_. There was joints o' pork 'anging from the ceiling,two brine tubs as full as they could be, and quite a string of fowls andducks all ready for market.

  "'Wot d'ye mean by coming into my 'ouse?' ses Bob Pretty, blustering.'If you don't clear out pretty quick, I'll make you.'

  "Nobody answered 'im; they was all examining 'ands o' pork and fowls andsuch-like.

  "'There's the tiger,' ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; 'that'swot old man Parsley meant.'

  "'Somebody go and fetch Policeman White,' ses a voice.

  "'I wish they would,' ses Bob Pretty. "I'll 'ave the law on you all forbreaking into my 'ouse like this, see if I don't.'

  "'Where'd you get all this pork from?' ses the blacksmith.

  "'And them ducks and hins?' ses George Kettle.

  "'That's my bisness,' ses Bob Pretty, staring 'em full in the face. 'Ijust 'ad a excellent oppertunity offered me of going into the pork andpoultry line and I took it. Now, all them as doesn't want to buy anypork or fowls go out o' my house.'

  "'You're a thief, Bob Pretty!' says Henery Walker. 'You stole it all.'

  "'Take care wot you're saying, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'else I'll makeyou prove your words.'

  "'You stole my pig,' ses Herbert Smith.

  "'Oh, 'ave I?' ses Bob, reaching down a 'and o' pork. 'Is that yourpig?' he ses.

  "'It's just about the size o' my pore pig,' ses Herbert Smith.

  "'Very usual size, I call it,' ses Bob Pretty; 'and them ducks and hinsvery usual-looking hins and ducks, I call 'em, except that they don'tgrow 'em so fat in these parts. It's a fine thing when a man's doing ahonest bisness to 'ave these charges brought agin 'im. Dis'eartening, Icall it. I don't mind telling you that the tiger got in at my backwinder the other night and took arf a pound o' sausage, but you don't'ear me complaining and going about calling other people thieves.'

  "'Tiger be hanged,' ses Henery Walker, who was almost certain that a loino' pork on the table was off 'is pig; 'you're the only tiger in theseparts.'

  "Why, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'wot are you a-thinkin' of? Where's yourmemory? Why, it's on'y two or three days ago you see it and 'ad to getup a tree out of its way.'

  "He smiled and shook 'is 'ead at 'im, but Henery Walker on'y kept openingand shutting 'is mouth, and at last 'e went outside without saying aword.

  "'And Sam Jones see it, too,' ses Bob Pretty; 'didn't you, Sam?'

  "Sam didn't answer 'im.

  "'And Charlie Hall and Jack Minns and a lot more,' ses Bob; 'besides, Isee it myself. I can believe my own eyes, I s'pose?'

  "'We'll have the law on you,' ses Sam Jones.

  "'As you like,' ses Bob Pretty; 'but I tell you plain, I've got all thebills for this properly made out, upstairs. And there's pretty near adozen of you as'll 'ave to go in the box and swear as you saw the tiger.Now, can I sell any of you a bit o' pork afore you go? It's deliciouseating, and as soon as you taste it you'll know it wasn't grown inClaybury. Or a pair o' ducks wot 'ave come from two 'undered miles off,and yet look as fresh as if they was on'y killed last night.'

  "George Kettle, whose ducks 'ad gone the night afore, went into the frontroom and walked up and down fighting for 'is breath, but it was all nogood; nobody ever got the better o' Bob Pretty. None of 'em could swearto their property, and even when it became known a month later that BobPretty and the tramp knew each other, nothing was done. But nobody ever'eard any more of the tiger from that day to this."