“Is Great Sult Anna O’Queen’s back strong enough for her to carry Danny and Chris, too?”

The most surprised look spread over Whiteface’s features and the beautiful lady remarked: 

“Gary has your kind, thoughtful nature.”

“I think Great Sult Anna O’Queen’s Irish back is strong enough to carry Danny and Chris. I’ll ask her.  First though, we’d better find out how much they weigh?”

“How much do you weigh, Danny?” Jerry called down.

“I don’t know,” replied Danny.

“If you don’t weigh too much, mebbe you and Chris can ride, too.”

“Us ride on a el’funt!” exclaimed Danny.  “Why, why, I don’t weigh much, do I, Chris?”

“No,” replied Chris eagerly.  “You’re not big enough to weigh much and I’m littler than you are.”

“I think I can tell near enough,” said Whiteface; “Danny weighs about sixty pounds and Chris about forty.  That makes one hundred pounds and I weigh one hundred and sixty-five.  Helen, how much do you weigh?”

“A hundred and twenty pounds,” she answered.

“I never can remember that.  That makes two hundred and sixty-five and one hundred and twenty is three hundred and eighty-five pounds and there’s Gary.  He must weigh thirty pounds—­say four hundred and fifteen pounds altogether.”

Whiteface jumped from the little house on Sultana’s back to her head, sat down on top of that, leaned over and whispered something in the elephant’s ear.

Jerry stood up so he could see better, and as he did so the elephant’s ear, which Whiteface had lifted up, wiggled and flopped out of the clown’s hand.

“She says four hundred and fifteen pounds is not too much on this occasion,” Whiteface announced and directed the keeper to help Danny and Chris up to Sultana’s back.  But Danny and Chris didn’t need any help in running up the ladder.

Then Mr. Burrows approached and tossed a bit of paper up to Mrs. Bowe.

“That’s a pass for a box at the circus to-night for Mrs. Mullarkey and all her family,” he said.

“Is one pass good for all of them?” asked Jerry, as Danny caught the precious bit of paper and handed it to Mrs. Bowe.

“Yes,” laughed Mr. Burrows, “it is when it’s got the name of Edward J. Burrows on it.  Just tell her to show that to the ticket seller and he’ll give her the seats.”

Then Whiteface, still sitting on top of the elephant’s head, told the keeper he was ready and Sultana started.  It took Jerry and Danny and Chris quite a while to become accustomed to the manner in which the palanquin joggled about on Sultana’s back, but they were getting used to it when the elephant reached the street close to the entrance of the main tent where the people were streaming out from the performance.

There was a shout from the small boys in the crowd who immediately swarmed about Sultana and tagged on in the rear as she ambled patiently down the street.  They looked enviously at Jerry and Danny and Chris and raised such a hubbub that every child they passed and many of the grown persons, too, fell in line.  The story of how the elephant had recognized the lost boy and picked him right up out of the audience passed rapidly from mouth to mouth, with the result that no one left the ever lengthening procession that followed the elephant.