They nearly died laughing.

Then the whole thing kind of died a strange and painful death. Safety
wasn't taking on one bit like a man that's been stung. He stood there
cold and malignant and listened to the noise and didn't bat an eye till
he just naturally quelled the disorder. It got as still as a church, and
then Safety talked a little in a calm voice.

"Elephants?" says he, kind of amused. "Why, elephants ain't no good stock
proposition because it takes 'em so long to mature! Elephants is often a
hundred and twenty years old. You'd have to feed one at least forty years
to get him fit to ship. I really am surprised at you boys, going into a
proposition like that without looking up the details. It certainly ain't
anything for my money. Why, you couldn't even veal an elephant till he
was about fifteen years old, which would need at least six thousand
dollars' worth of peanuts; and what kind of a stock business is that, I'd
like to know. And even if they could rustle their own feed, what kind of
a business is it where you could only ship once in a lifetime? You boys
make me tired, going hell-bent into an enterprise where you'd all be dead
and forgotten before the first turnover of your stock."

He now looked at 'em in a sad, rebuking manner. It was like an icy blast
from Greenland the way he took it.

Two or three tried to start the big laugh again, but their yips was
feeble and died quickly out. They just stood there foolish. Even Sandy
Sawtelle couldn't think of anything bright to say.

Safety now climbs on his horse, strangely cheerful, and says; "Well, I'll
have to be getting along with them new mules of mine." Then he kind of
giggled at the crowd and says: "I certainly got the laugh on this outfit,
starting a business where this here old Methusalem hisself could hardly
get it going good before death cut him off!"

And away he rides, chuckling like it was an awful joke on us. Not a
single scream of agony about what had been done to him with them stunted
mules.

Of course that was all I needed to know. One deadly chill of fear took me
from head to foot. I knew perfectly well our trench was mined and the
fuse lighted. Up comes this chucklehead of a Sawtelle, and for once in
his life he's puzzled.

"Well," he says, "you got to give old S.F. credit for one thing. Did you
see the way he tried to switch the laugh over on to us, and me with his
trusty check right here in my hand? I never would have thought it, but