"Emperor!"
Phil threw his hands above his head as was his wont when desirous
of having the old elephant pick him up.
Right across the center of the crescent careened a great hulking
figure, uttering loud trumpetings--trumpetings that were taken up
by his companions until the very ground seemed to shake.
Phil's back was half toward the big elephant, and in the noise he
did not distinguish a familiar note in the call.
All at once he felt himself violently jerked from the ground.
The lad was certain that his time had come. But out of that
cloud of dust, in which those who looked, believed that the
little Circus Boy had gone down to his death, Phil Forrest
rose right up into the air and was dropped unharmed to the back
of old Emperor.
For the moment he was so dizzy that he was unable to make up his
mind what had happened or where he was. Then it all came to him.
He was on Emperor's back.
"Hurrah!" shouted Phil. "Good old Emperor! Steady, steady,
Emperor!
That's a good fellow."
He patted the beast's head with the flat of his hand, crooned to
him, using every artifice that he knew to quiet the nerves of his
big friend.
Little by little Emperor appeared to come out of his fright,
until the lad felt almost certain that the big beast would
take orders.
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