Within a few minutes the struggle was over. The pachyderm, unable to elude the horseman, wavered, then came to a sudden stop.
Dave Brandon was too winded to shout his exultation. He wheeled his horse around and halted in the middle of the road. Water poured from his hat and coat in streams; his clothes were patched with mud, but, as he wearily straightened up, the glow of the lantern showed the familiar broad smile on his face.
“By Jingo,” he muttered, “traveling with a circus surely has its thrills!”
Some five minutes later, when Messrs. Spudger and Whiffin hurriedly drove up, in a state of great excitement, they found three elephants huddled close together by the wayside, while a lone horseman, almost as motionless as a statue, was standing on guard.
And it didn’t take Mr. Whiffin’s sharp eyes very long to discover the identity of this vigilant sentinel.
“Didn’t I tell yer it was the fat feller who passed us, Mr. Spudger?” he demanded, “an’ by gum, he done the trick!”
“And I should say, at twenty-five cents, it was about the cheapest bit of work I ever heard of. And if he’s saved me from looking into any lawyer’s face I’ll add another twenty-five cents myself.”
Mr. Spudger laughed gruffly at his own humorous observation.
“We’d best be keerful not to make too much noise,” warned Mr. Whiffin. “I ain’t hankerin’ to look after them elephants.”
“That’s right,” assented Mr. Spudger. “Let’s do all our conversation in whispers. If they ever git started on the back track this buggy would be only fit for kindlin’ fires, and I don’t like surgeons no more’n lawyers.”