McGlory caught Carl by the heels and dragged him out into the centre of the tent, the Dutchman thrashing his arms and sputtering as he slid over the ground.
"Confound the brute!" roared Boss Burton; "I'll either take the kinks out of him and have him in the parade, or I'll shoot him. Leave him alone for half an hour, and then we'll maul him some more. How's Le Bon?"
"Not a scratch," Archie Le Bon answered for himself, coming in under the canvas. "But I might have had a broken head."
"You've had enough?" queried Burton.
"A great plenty, thank you. I'm no elephant trainer, Burton, and while I'd like to make a little extra money I guess I'll look for something that's more congenial."
"Dot's me, too," said Carl to Matt and McGlory. "I don'd vas some elephant trainers, I bed you. Vat a ugliness old Racha has! Dot trunk oof his hit me like a railroadt train."
"You were going to try and ride the elephant in the parade, Carl?" demanded Matt.
"I vas t'inking oof id vonce, aber never any more. He iss vorse as I t'ought."
"I heard what he was up to, Matt," put in McGlory, "and hit the high places for here. Arrived just in time to see Le Bon go out between the edge of the wall and the edge of the tent top. Sufferin' skyrockets, but it was quick! Everybody rushed at Rajah, and Carl was right in the thick of it. I thought he'd be smashed into a cocked hat before I could get hold of him."
"Who vas der feller vat left dot pucket oof vater in der vay?" grumbled Carl, mopping his tow hair with a red cotton handkerchief. "Id vas righdt under me ven I come down. I don'd like dot. Id vas pad enough mitoudt any fancy drimmings in der vay oof a pail oof vater."