Free Tiger Trap by Eric Walters

want Buddha out and about again.”
    “I guess that makes sense,” I said, “but why are the cameras hidden? It feels like we’re spying on people.”
    “The cameras are aimed at the animals and they’re hidden because people get uncomfortable when they think they’re being watched,” Anthony explained.
    “I know
I
am,” I said.
    “And people who are uncomfortable tend not to return. We need our customers, our visitors, to make many return visits.”
    “And you think we can get enough visitors to pay for all this new stuff?” I asked.
    “They’ll pay for part of it. The visitors are only one stream of revenue.”
    “Stream of revenue?”
    “It’s a business term. It means that money, income, revenue, comes from different sources, different
streams
.”
    “Oh, you mean like we make money from selling the ice-cream bars,” I said.
    He chuckled. “Like all the things that will be sold at the
new
snack bar. But that’s just one trickle as opposed to a stream.”
    “Then what are the other streams?” I asked.
    “The major source will involve the sale of animals.”
    “What?” I gasped. “We can’t sell animals!”
    “Of course we can. We will.”
    “Mr. McCurdy will never agree to that.”
    “He will and he has,” Anthony said. “Do you think I’m doing all of this behind his back? All game farms buy, sell and trade animals continually. I know Mr. McCurdy bought and sold animals during his time working for the circus.”
    “I’m sure he
bought
animals,” I shot back.
    “What do you think he did with all the animals he bred?” Anthony asked.
    I hadn’t thought about that. I knew Mr. McCurdy had had a lot of success breeding and raising all sorts of animals, and they all couldn’t have stayed with the circus.
    “Everything will be done with legitimate zoos and game farms, people committed to caring for animals,” Anthony said.
    “Oh, that’s good,” I said.
    “You sound surprised by that. Did you think we were going to sell them to illegal traders?”
    “Of course not,” I lied. I wasn’t sure what Anthony had in mind.
    “There would be a lot more money in illegal sales, as we all know, but if we selectively buy, breed, rescue and rehabilitate animals, we can make this farm profitable. Take those kangaroos, for example.”
    “What about Kanga and Roo?” I asked.
    “The farm got the two kangaroos for free. If those two can be successfully raised, they can be sold for close to ten thousand dollars each.”
    “You want to sell my kangaroos?”
    “First off, the kangaroos belong to Tiger Town. Second, there are no plans to sell the kangaroos at this time.”
    I felt better.
    “Quite frankly, the kangaroos are simply not marketable at this time,” Anthony said. “They’re still too young, require far too much care and might not even survive to adulthood.”
    “Kanga and Roo are going to live!”
    “I certainly hope so,” he said. “It would be
awful
if something happened to them.”
    That was nice — and unexpected — of him to say that. Maybe I’d really been misjudging him, had been too hard on him. After all, he did like the —
    “Dead animals mean lost money, and we’re going to work to make this place profitable,” he said.
    So much for that thought.
    “There are, of course, some animals that would never be sold,” Anthony continued. “For example, Laura and Calvin, Polly, Kushna and Buddha.”
    “I hope not. They’re pets.”
    “They’re also not worth anything.”
    “How can you say that?” I asked, feeling offended.
    “It’s a fact. They’re all too old and have far too many bad habits to be worth anything to anybody except Angus or Vladimir. In fact, the only value Calvin would have is as a laboratory subject.”
    “What does that mean?” I asked, not knowing but definitely not liking the sound of it.
    “Research labs are always looking for primates to pursue scientific research,” Anthony explained. “They test new medicines and surgical