“I assure you,” added the professor, “you wouldn’t have kept him much longer; when he awoke, hungry and thirsty, he would have placed himself on the outside before you could say Jack Robinson, and then there would have been trouble.”

The actions of the professor proved his faith in his own words.  He coolly unhooked the door, gently pushed it back, and stepped within the structure.  Tippo Sahib uttered a growl, and Tom and his friends shrank farther away.  The men, however, one of whom carried a coil of rope, held their places.

Professor De La Cordova displayed admirable coolness and tact.  He was not rough in manner, but acted like one who felt himself master of the situation.  His course, indeed, suggested to Tom that there was much truth in Jim Travers’s declaration about the power of the human eye over the denizens of the jungle.  Standing erect, the man remained motionless for a full minute, during which he kept his gaze fixed on the tiger, staring into those orbs as if he would “look him through.”

Tippo Sahib was uneasy for a brief while, and then succumbed to that mysterious hypnotic influence which, in some cases, is equally potent with persons.  He became humble, meek, and, if the term can be allowed, penitent.

Fully understanding his condition, the professor reached his hand behind him, without removing his gaze from the beast.

“The rope!” he said in a low voice.

The next moment, to the amazement of Tom and his relatives, he stepped gently forward, and fastened the rope around the unresisting neck of Tippo Sahib, who was led outside like a thoroughly subdued dog.  Tom gave him plenty of room, and closely watched proceedings.  While doing so, he observed a slight scratch on the hip of the beast, barely sufficient to break the skin; that was the path of the bullet fired by the lad the day previous.

Other ropes were fastened about the tiger, who took it all as a matter of course, and calmly followed when his guards moved in the direction of the horses.  These resented the approach of the huge cat, so the professor and one of his men walked some distance behind the others, who took care of the animals.

Before their departure, Professor De La Cordova told Tom to call at the hotel between six and seven that evening, and he would be paid the hundred dollars with the thanks of Mr. Jones and all connected with the menagerie and circus.

“I wonder if they mean to cheat me out of it?” said the boy that afternoon, when he looked at the clock and saw it was nearly time to start.

“I hardly think so,” replied his mother.

“Why didn’t they give the money before they took the tiger away?”

“Probably they hadn’t so much with them,” suggested Aunt Cynthia, who plainly felt some misgiving over matters; “most likely the money has to be paid by some officer connected with the show.”

“And he may say he never gave his men the right to make such an offer,” remarked Tom.