"George and Tom,” he said, directly, "you get on the white ponies and head for town past Robinson's. Now, you idiots up there, drop down on the elephant's back—no hesitatin' now—and the procession will move. I'll tell mother as we go by to bring the hosses into the lot till we can send word. I'll just walk behind, and if these chaps try to skedaddle, and Gunga what's-his-name don't get 'em, I will. Go on, George."
The little cavalcade moved slowly up the dusty road.
"Land's sake!" was all Aunt Ellen could say in response to the brief explanation Uncle Abner gave as they passed by. "Land's sake!" she repeated, as they disappeared over the rise in a cloud of dust.
The sheriff, who was large and fat and comfortable appearing, was biking life easy in his great arm chair, with his feet on the official desk, when an excited deputy beckoned to him from the door. "Come, quick!" he cried.
The sheriff arose ponderously. "'Nother dog fight, I suppose," he remarked, good-naturedly, as he went to the door. But it was not a dog fight.
A procession with accompanying crowds on the sidewalks was coming up the main street of Washita Falls. First, two white ponies ridden by boys, then an elephant with two worn and haggard men on his back, and in the rear perhaps fifty men and boys armed with guns, clubs, scythes, pitchforks and axes, for the arm of the law had been re-enforced at every farmhouse passed.
"I hope to be hung to a sour-apple tree if this don't beat me," said the sheriff. The ponies stopped and Gunga Din stopped, too, lifting one ear inquiringly.
While Uncle Abner told his story, the sheriff sat on the door-step, his official dignity struggling with his sense of humor until he was red in the face. The deputy stood by impatiently, with photographs in his hand.
"Pretty good elephant, that, I should say," he remarked, sententiously. "The biggest chap is so beloved in Arkansas that the Governor will give fifteen hundred dollars to see him again, an' t'other fellow is such a remarkable hand with hosses that the State of Missoury owes a thousand to the man that brings him back. Pretty good elephant, that, I should say," he repeated.
