“He carried a long machete,” Pete said, “and knew how to use it. He also knew his way around. He cut his way right to this spot to show us the lion.”
Jupe added, “I suppose we can’t blame you for sticking up for your uncle, Mike, but —”
“I’m not,” Mike interrupted angrily. “That man you described was Hank Morton. He used to work here as an animal trainer and handler.”
He stared out at the high grass, listening intently. “What I don’t understand is how he got here. My Uncle Jim fired him.”
“Fired him?” Jupe asked. “What for?”
“He was cruel to the animals, for one thing,” Mike said. “My Uncle Jim won’t stand for that. For another, he’s mean — a troublemaker. He drinks a lot. When he’s in that condition, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Perhaps,” Jupe said thoughtfully. “But if that was Hank Morton who brought us out here, he wasn’t the least bit drunk. He was cold sober — and knew exactly what he was doing.”
“But why?” Bob asked. “Why did he do it? What was his idea — marooning us out here?”
“I don’t know,” Mike Hall said. “Perhaps —” His eyes gleamed. “Did you tell him anything — about why you’re here?”
Jupe clapped his head ruefully. “That’s it! We told him Alfred Hitchcock sent us to see him about his nervous lion. I recall now that he looked surprised at first.”
“I can think of a reason,” Pete said. “He was trying to get even with Jim Hall for firing him. We just happened along conveniently.”
“But why us?” asked Bob. “We’ve got nothing to do with Jim Hall and his getting fired.”
“The nervous lion,” Jupe reminded. “The case we’re on and the reason we’re here. Perhaps he didn’t want us to find out why that lion is nervous.”
“That could be it,” young Mike Hall said. “And Hank Morton probably let George get loose, too. George couldn’t have got out by himself.”
“Well,” said Jupe. “When we see your uncle, he might have a better explanation. I suggest we start back now, Mike, and have a talk with him.”
“I don’t think we can do that right now,” Bob said quietly.
Jupe looked at Bob, surprised. “Why not?” What’s wrong with that idea?”
Bob’s voice was low and shaking. “It’s — right behind you, fellows. A great big lion just came out of the brush. Maybe it’s George — but he sure doesn’t look friendly!”
Mike turned around. “It’s George, all right. But he knows me. Just don’t make any sudden movements, fellows. I’ll handle him.”
The boys watched uneasily as Mike took a step forward. He lifted one hand, carefully extending it palm up. “All right, George. Easy now, fellow. Nice boy, George.”
His reassuring voice was answered by a snarl. Slowly and menacingly a massive, thick-maned lion advanced. Its head was down and its huge yellow eyes were narrowed. It turned its big head to one side and snarled again. Less than ten feet away it halted. The huge jaws opened, exposing long, frightening fangs.
Then, with a deep roar rumbling in its throat, the lion came forward again.
The Three Investigators stared at it helplessly, unable to move, their throats tight with fear.
Mike was speaking again. “Easy, George,” he said quietly. “Easy, boy. You know me, fellow. Easy now. Nice and easy.”
The huge, tawny beast flicked its tail. A low rumble came rolling like thunder. It came forward another step.
Young Mike shook his head. “Something’s wrong, fellows. George knows me. But he isn’t acting his usual friendly way.”
Slowly, the boy backed away.
The lion came on.
6
A Narrow Escape
The Three Investigators stood rooted to the ground as inch by inch young Mike Hall retreated before the advancing lion. His voice was still low and friendly but the lion ignored it.
Jupiter Jones was as paralysed with fear as his companions. But his brain was still active. He was puzzled by the lion’s behaviour towards somebody it knew. It gave no sign that it recognised young Mike Hall.
Suddenly Jupe discovered what was wrong. He tried to keep his voice low and not attract the lion’s attention.
“Look at his left foreleg, Mike,” he said. “He’s wounded!”
Mike looked quickly at the lion’s leg. It was covered by a thick film of blood.
“No wonder George isn’t obeying,” said Mike softly. “I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for you guys. A hurt animal is dangerous. I don’t know if I can handle him.”
“You’ve got a rifle,” Bob whispered. “Maybe you ought to shoot.”
“This is only a.22 calibre. It wouldn’t do more than tickle George. It might make him even madder. I just carry it for emergencies, for firing a warning shot.”
The lion took another step forward. The huge beast winced as the bloody leg took its weight. Its mouth opened in a twisting snarl.
The Three Investigators inched backward to the gum tree. Mike saw their movement and shook his head.
“Don’t try it, fellows,” he cautioned. “He’d be on you before you got one leg up.”
“Okay, Mike,” said Jupe. “But why not fire a warning shot? Wouldn’t that scare George off?”
Mike smiled grimly. “Not a chance. He’s got his head down. That means his mind is made up and nothing is going to change it.” He bit his lip. “I just wish my Uncle Jim was here.”
A soft whistle trilled from the high grass. Abruptly a tall, bronzed man stepped out.
“You’ve got your wish, Mike,” he said dryly. “Now nobody moves, nobody talks except me, understand?”
The man stepped lithely forward. “Now, Georgie, what’s going on here?” he asked pleasantly.
The words were spoken in a light, conversational tone. They had their effect. The lion turned its head towards the man. Its long tail flicked. Then, cocking its head, it opened its jaws and roared.
The tall man nodded. “I see,” he said softly. “You’re hurt. Is that it?”
Then to the amazement of the boys, he strode up to the lion and took its huge head in his hands.
“Come on, George,” he said. “Let’s have a look at it.”
The lion opened its jaws again. The expected roar became a moaning sound instead. Slowly it extended its bleeding leg.
“Oh, it’s your leg, is it?” asked Jim Hall. “Okay, old fellow, take it easy. I’ll take care of it for you.”
He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and bent to one knee. Deftly, he bandaged the wound, his face dangerously close to the lion’s jaws.
The lion stood patiently as Jim Hall knotted the handkerchief. The man rose. He rubbed the lion’s ears and twisted his mane. Then, affectionately, he pounded the beast’s shoulders.
“There you are, George — almost as good as new.”
Smiling, he turned away. The lion’s voice rumbled in its thick throat. Its muscles quivered. Then suddenly there was a quick, blurring yellow movement. Instantly Jim Hall was down, the lion upon him.
“Look out!” Pete cried.
The Three Investigators looked on in horror as the man writhed under the weight of the big jungle cat.
Jupe turned to Mike Hall. The boy was watching calmly, a slight smile on his lips. Jupe couldn’t understand. “Do something!” he shouted.
“Use your gun, Mike!” Bob yelled.
Mike Hall lifted his hand. “It’s nothing to worry about, fellows. They’re only playing. George was brought up by Jim and loves him.”
“But —” Jupe started to say. His eyes bugged out as he saw the huge lion thrown aside by Jim Hall. With a ferocious snarling sound, it lashed back, wrapping its forelegs around the man’s shoulders. It opened its jaws wide, its large teeth inches from the man’s face.