Pete pointed towards a thick cluster of growth. “I–I just saw some grass bend there. You hear it? Something is moving —”
He blinked at a soft call, a whistle from the high grass. Then to the amazement of all three, a young boy stepped out of the brush, peering cautiously about.
“Hey!” Bob called. “Up here!”
The boy whirled. In the same motion, he swung a rifle upward. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“F-friends,” Bob gasped weakly. “Put down that gun.”
“We’ve been invited here,” Pete added. “We’re The Three Investigators.”
“We’re waiting for Mr. Hall to come back,” Jupe put in. “He left us waiting while he went out there to investigate something.”
The boy swung the rifle down. “Come down out of there,” he said.
Cautiously the three slid down the trunk. Jupe pointed into the grass. “We heard a lion out there a little while ago. We thought we’d be safer up in the tree.”
The boy smiled. He appeared to be about their age. “That was George,” he said.
Pete gulped. “George? The lion’s name is George?”
The boy nodded. “You don’t have to be afraid of George. He’s friendly.”
A deep roar came from the high grass. It sounded terrifyingly close.
The Three Investigators stiffened.
“Y-you call that roar friendly?” Pete asked.
“I suppose you’ve got to get used to it first. But that’s George — and he wouldn’t harm anybody.”
A twig snapped sharply. Bob paled. “What makes you so sure?”
“I work here,” he boy answered, smiling. “I see George every day. By the way, my name’s Mike Hall.”
“We’re glad to meet you, Mike,” said Jupe. He introduced himself and his companions. Then, “I’m not sure we appreciate your father’s sense of humour.”
Mike Hall looked surprised.
“Bringing us out here and then deserting us with a lion close by,” Pete burst in heatedly. “That’s no joke.”
“That’s probably why he’s in trouble here,” Bob added. “You can lose a lot of people trying to help you if you play games like that.”
The youth looked at the three angry investigators, puzzled. “I don’t understand. First, I’m Jim Hall’s nephew, not his son. Second, Jim wouldn’t have left you here with the lion. We’ve all been looking for him — George got out somehow, and we forgot you were coming, in the excitement. I’ve heard George roaring and been trying to catch up with him.”
Jupe listened to this explanation calmly. “I’m sorry, Mike. We’re telling the truth. Mr. Hall led us out here and then abandoned us. The lion roared out there, and he told us to wait. He disappeared into the grass — and — well, we’ve had a long wait — and a worried one!”
Mike shook his head stubbornly. “There must be some mistake. That couldn’t have been Jim. I’ve been with him all day and I just left him. You must have met somebody else. What did he look like?”
Bob described the stocky man with the Aussie campaign hat. “We called him Mr. Hall and he didn’t deny it,” he added.
“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.