sell. Of course, I'll pay you for the camp. Pound a night's what I generally pay."
John Russell flushed.
"Well, I can't afford to refuse, though you're welcome enough. I'm dead broke. We'11 have to clear out of here presently, though goodness knows what we're going to do. Sorry I can't offer you a meal, either. But Mrs. Peterson is welcome to use the house in any way she likes."
"Thanks," said Big Dan, avoiding looking at his host's haggard eyes. "I reckon my wife'd think it a real luxury to sit on your veranda this afternoon an' pretend she had a home that didn't run about on wheels. Look at that kid of yours now!"
John Russell repressed a start of alarm. Hugh, held in the circle of the largest elephant's trunk, was swinging cheerfully to and fro, his boots waving, his yellow curls all on end. He shouted gleefully as the great trunk flung him upwards: then he was sitting enthroned behind a head that was like a table before him. The keeper grinned up at him from the ground.
"You're sure he's safe?" Russell asked, anxiously.
"Safe as houses. Fear is the only thing that 'ud make him unsafe, an' it's easy seen fear don't trouble him. George knows every blink of that old buli's eye. They're funny: some people they hate like poison, no matter how they try to make friends, and others they take to from the jump. Now that boy of yours could lie down and let old Ram Singh there put his foot on his chest, and Ram wouldn't let him feel a featherweight!"