But the train creaked to a stop, and the engineer jumped down from his seat and seized Jim fiercely.
“Here, you,” he cried. “What is it? Speak out, or by George—”
“It’s th’ elephant!” gasped Jim. “Oh, if you’d ’a’ seen his eye a-twinklin’!”
Michaels dropped the brakeman and jumped to the ground, the others following. And there, sure enough, with his trunk sticking out of a little window in the front end of the car just back of the tender was the elephant. Even as they looked, the trunk stretched forward, and the end of it disappeared through the manhole in the top of the tank.
“What’s up?” inquired the conductor, running up from the rear of the train. “What you stoppin’ out here for, Bill? They’s no plug here!”
A stream of water caught him squarely on the side of the face, and left him dazed and speechless. The engineer, fireman, and brakeman danced around, yelling and slapping their knees.
The conductor jumped out of range, wiped away the water, and regarded them disgustedly.
“Well, of all the blame fools!” he said. “It don’t take much to amuse some people.”
“What’s the joke?” asked the rear brakeman, coming up at that moment.
The elephant saw him, took deadly aim, and fired. The brakeman, with a yell of dismay, clapped his hands to his face. When he had cleared the water from his eyes, he saw four men dancing spasmodically up and down, fairly howling with mirth.