Ajax looked at his keeper with his wicked little eyes, and, lifting up his trunk, gave a shrill trumpet. Nor was the animal trainer’s mind made any more easy as he noticed that Ajax was not doing his accustomed swaying motion, which all those big beasts, at least in captivity, seem to be always doing. Clearly something was wrong with Ajax.
Jack found Sam, and had a long talk with his friend. The head clown again advised the boy to write to the professor, and see if any news had come from the boy’s folks.
“If they’re still somewhere in China,” said Sam, “you had better stick with the show. Maybe I can help you get a place in some theatre this winter.”
“All right, I’ll do as you say,” agreed Jack. “I’ll write to-morrow. But now I’ve got to go and fix some things on my airship. I broke a hoop in the bag this afternoon.”
Jack started for the property tent, and he had scarcely reached it when, from the menagerie, there came such a terrifying yell, mingled with a trumpet of rage, that every one who heard it stood still in horror.
“That’s an elephant!” cried Mr. Delafield. “Something’s gone wrong!”
“Ajax! It must be Ajax!” shouted Jack. “Bill told me he was acting queer a while ago!”
“Then he’s killed some one,” exclaimed the property man, as he rushed from his tent. “I know that yell. I heard one like it once before! Ajax has killed a man!”
Jack ran out of the tent after Mr. Delafield. As he got outside he heard the shrill trumpet again. Then came a rattle of chains, and a side of the animal tent bulged out.
“Ajax’s loose! Ajax’s loose!” cried a man, and the next instant the mad elephant, which had broken the double chains, rushed from the tent, trunk in the air, trumpeting shrilly, its wicked little eyes agleam with rage.