On this same eventful evening, Archie Jackson, the constable of Tottenville, started from the residence of the Misses Perkinpine for his own house in the village.

He had been out to make some inquiries of the ladies, for it will be remembered that he had two very important matters on hand—the detection of the robbers who had taken the property of the sisters and the leadership of the party who were to recapture the lion.

At the close of the day, as he moved off toward the village, some time before the arrival of Fred Sheldon, he could not console himself with the knowledge that anything like real progress had been made in either case.

"I've sent for that New York detective, Carter, to come down at once, and he ought to be here, but I haven't seen anything of him. Like enough he's off somewhere and won't be heard from for a week. I don't know as I care, for I begin to feel as though I can work out this nefarious proceeding myself.

"Then the lion. Well, I can't say that I desire to go hunting for that sort of game, for I never studied their habits much, but as this cretur' doesn't seem to be very ferocious we ought to be able to run him in. I've organized the company, and Scrapton says he'll bring out his lasso and show two or three of us how to fling the thing, so we can all neck him at the same time.

"If I can work up this matter and the other," continued the constable, who was "counting his chickens before they were hatched," "I shall make a nice little fee. I'm sure the lion will stay in the woods till he's pretty hungry. All the wild reports we've heard to-day have nothing in them. Nobody has seen him since he took to the forest yesterday afternoon, and what's more, nobody will——"

And just then came the greatest shock of Archie Jackson's life.

He was walking along the road toward Tottenville, and had reached a place where a row of trees overhung the path. He had taken a different route home from that pursued by Fred Sheldon, and was in quite a comfortable frame of mind, as the remarks quoted will show, when he gave a gasp of fright, for there, at the side of the path, he was sure he saw the lion himself sitting on his haunches and waiting for him to come within reach of his frightful claws and teeth.

The constable did not observe him until he was within arm's length, as may be said, and then the poor fellow was transfixed. He stood a minute or so, doing nothing but breathe and staring at the monster.

The lion seemed to comprehend that he was master of the situation, for he quietly remained sitting on his haunches, no doubt waiting for his victim to prepare for his inevitable fate.

Finally, Archie began to experience something like a reaction, and he asked himself whether he was to perish thus miserably, or was there not some hope, no matter how desperate, for him.

Of course he had no gun, but he generally carried a loaded revolver, for his profession often demanded the display of such a weapon; but to his dismay, when he softly reached his right hand back to his hip to draw it, he recalled that he had cleaned it that afternoon, and left it lying on his stand at home.

The situation was enough to make one despair, and for an instant after the discovery the officer felt such a weakness in the knees that it was all he could do to keep from sinking to the ground in a perfect collapse; but he speedily rallied, and determined on one great effort for life.

"I will strike him with my fist—that will knock him over—and then run for a tree."

This was his resolve. Archie could deliver a powerful blow, and, believing the lion would not wait any longer, he drew back his clenched hand and aimed for the forehead directly between the eyes.

He measured the distance correctly, but the instant the blow landed he felt he had made a mistake; it was not the runaway lion which he had struck, but the stump of an old tree.

It is hardly necessary to say that the constable suffered more than did the stump, and for a minute or two he was sure he had fractured the bones of his hand, so great was the pain. He danced about on one foot, shaking the bruised member and bewailing the stupidity that led him to make such a grievous error.

"That beats anything I ever knowed in all my life," he exclaimed, "and how glad I am that nobody else knows it; if the folks ever hear of it, they will plague me forever and——"

"Halloo, Archie, what's the matter?"

The cold chills ran down the officer's back as he heard this hail, and suppressing all expression of pain, he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked quickly around.

In the dim moonlight he saw old man Scrapton and two neighbors, Vincent and Emery, fathers respectively of two playmates of Fred Sheldon.

Each carried a coil of long, strong rope in his right hand and seemed to be considerably excited over something.

"We're after the lion," said Mr. Scrapton; "have you seen him?"

"No, I don't think he's anywhere around here."

"I've had Vincent and Emery out in the meadow nearly all day, practicing throwing the lasso, and they've got the hang of it exactly. Emery can fling the noose over the horns of a cow a dozen yards away and never miss, while Vincent, by way of experiment, dropped the noose over the shoulders of his wife at a greater distance."

"Yes," said Mr. Vincent, "but I don't regard that as much of a success. Mrs. Vincent objected, and before I could let go of my end of the lasso, she drawed me to her and—well, I'd prefer to talk of something else."

The constable laughed and said:

"It's a good thing to practice a little beforehand, when you are going into such a dangerous business as this."

"I suppose that's the reason you've been hammering that white oak stump," suggested Mr. Scrapton, with a chuckle.

Archie Jackson saw he was caught, and begged his friends to say nothing about it, as he had already suffered as much in spirit as body.

"But do you expect to find the lion to-night?" he asked, with unaffected interest.

"Yes, we know just where to look for him," said Mr. Scrapton; "he stayed in the woods all day, but just as the sun was setting I catched sight of him along the edge of the fence, and he isn't far from there this very minute."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Certainly."

"But I have no weapon."

"All the better; I made each leave his gun and pistols at home, for they'd be so scared at the first sight of the cretur' they'd fire before they knowed it and spoil everything. Like the boys at Ticonderoga, if their guns ain't loaded, they can't shoot 'em."

"But I don't see what help I can give you, as I haven't got a rope; and even if I had, I wouldn't know how to use it."

"Come along, any way; we'll feel safer if we have another with us."

It cannot be said that the constable was very enthusiastic, for there was something in the idea of hunting the king of beasts without firearms which was as terrifying as it was grotesque.

However, he could not refuse, and the four started down the road and across the field, in the direction of the large tract of forest in which it was known the lion had taken refuge when he broke from his cage the day before.

A walk of something like a third of a mile took the party to the edge of the wood, where they stopped and held a consultation in whispers.

None of them were so brave as they seemed a short time before, and all secretly wished they were safe at home.

"I don't see how you can expect to find him by hunting in the night time, when you have made no preparation," said Archie Jackson, strongly impressed with the absurdity of the whole business.

"But I have made preparation," answered Scrapton, in the same guarded undertone.

"How?"

"I killed a pig and threw him over the fence yonder by that pile of rocks—good heavens!"

At the moment of pointing his finger to indicate the spot, all heard a low cavernous growl, which sent a shiver of affright from head to foot.

They were about to break into a run, when the constable said:

"If you start, he will be after us; let's stand our ground."

"Certainly," assented Mr. Vincent, through his chattering teeth.

"Certainly, certainly," added his neighbor, in the same quaking voice.

Toning down their extreme terror as best they could, the four frightened friends strained their eyes to catch a sight of the animal.

"He's there," said Scrapton, fingering his lasso in a way which showed he was very eager to hurl it.

"Where?"

"Right behind the fence; I see him; he's crouching down and eating the carcass of the pig."

"When he gets through with that he will come for us."

"Like enough—but that will be all right," said the old gentleman, who really showed more self-possession than any of the others; "for it will give us just the chance we want."

"How so?"

"When he comes over the fence we'll sort of scatter and throw our lassoes together; then each will pull with all his might and main."

"But," said Mr. Vincent, "s'posing we pull his head off, we won't get any of the reward."

"We can't pull hard enough to do that, but if we hold on we'll keep him fast, so he can't move any way at all, and bime-by he'll get so tired that he'll give up, and we'll have him, certain sure."

"That is, if he don't happen to have us," said Mr. Jackson. "As I haven't got any rope, s'pose I climb over the fence and scare him up so he will come toward you."

The idea seemed to be a good one, as the others looked at it, but when the constable moved off to carry out his proposition they thought he was making altogether too extended a circuit, and that it would be a long while before he would succeed in his undertaking.

Archie finally vanished in the gloom, and climbing over the fence into the woods moved a short distance toward the spot where the animal lay, when he paused.

"The man who goes to hunt a wild lion with nothing but a jack-knife with both blades broke out is a natural-born idiot, which his name isn't Archie Jackson. I've business elsewhere."

And thereupon he deliberately turned about and started homeward by a circuitous route.

Meanwhile old Mr. Scrapton and Vincent and Emery stood trembling and waiting for the appearance of the lion, which, judging from the sounds that reached their ears, was busy crunching the bones of the young porker that had been slain for his special benefit.

They didn't know whether to stay where they were or to break into a run. The danger seemed great, but the reward was so tempting that they held their ground.

"He may start to run away," weakly suggested Mr. Vincent.

"I don't think so, now that he's tasted blood, but if he does," said the leader of the party, "we must foller."

"But he can run faster than we——"

"There he comes!"

In the darkness they saw the faintly-outlined figure of an animal clambering over the fence, with growls and mutterings, and hardly conscious of what they were doing, the three men immediately separated several yards from each other and nervously clutched their ropes, ready to fling them the instant the opportunity presented itself.

"There he comes!" called out Mr. Scrapton again; "throw your lassoes!"

At the same instant the three coils of rope whizzed through the air as a dark figure was seen moving in a direction which promised to bring him to a point equidistant from all.

Mr. Vincent was too enthusiastic in throwing his noose, for it went beyond the animal and settled around the neck of the astonished Mr. Emery, who thought the lion had caught him in his embrace, thrown as he was off his feet and pulled fiercely over the ground by the thrower.

Mr. Emery missed his mark altogether, although Mr. Scrapton had to dodge his head to escape the encircling coil.

The old gentleman would have lassoed the animal had he not discovered at the very instant the noose left his hand that it was his own mastiff, Towser, that they were seeking to capture instead of a runaway lion.