The trunk was released instantly and Phil plumped to the beast’s head once more, amid the wildest applause.
The band swung into another tune, which was the signal for the next act to be brought on. At the same time the ringmaster blew a shrill blast on his whistle.
The trainer left the ring with his charges by an exit that he seldom departed through. But he did so in order to leave Phil near the place where his seats were, first having ascertained where these were located.
“Put him down, Emperor! Down, I say!”
Emperor reached up an unwilling trunk, grasped Phil about the waist and stood him on the ground. At the trainer’s command the beast released his hold of his friend and as the hook was gently pressed against his side to hurry him, Emperor started reluctantly away.
Phil, with flushed face, a happy look in his eyes, had turned to run up the aisle to his seats, when, with a loud trumpeting, Emperor wheeled, and breaking away from his trainer, swept down toward the spot where he had left Phil Forrest.
The movement almost threw those in that section into a panic. Women screamed, believing the animal had suddenly gone crazy, while men sprang to their feet.
Phil had turned at the first alarm, and, observing what was taking place, with rare presence of mind trotted down to the arena again.
He reached there about the same time that Emperor did.
With a shrill scream Emperor threw his long trunk about the lad, and before Phil had time to catch his breath, he had been hurled to the elephant’s back.