HEAD FIRST
Which was the more surprised—Benny Turton, who had just finished his fish act in his tank, the spellbound audience, or Jim Tracy, who was, in a way, directing Joe's performance—it would be hard to say. All three were thrilled by the unexpected outcome of the fire-eating act. Joe Strong alone seemed perfectly at his ease, and, it might be mentioned incidentally, perfectly at home in the water. He had, as told in a previous volume, entitled "Joe Strong, the Boy Fish," perfected himself in this sort of work, and could remain submerged for an unusually long time.
Of course the fire which seemed to envelop the young magician was instantly put out when he leaped into the tank. He was wearing a rather fancy suit, and as he came up, wet and bedraggled, Jim Tracy could not help wondering what Joe meant by his performance.
"Joe! Joe! was that part of the act or an accident?" asked Jim in a low voice, as he ran over to where Joe was now climbing out of the tank. For one instant Joe hesitated. The audience was wildly applauding now. Clearly there was but one thought in their minds. The whole thing was a trick—Joe had only pretended to be on fire and had taken that sensational means of appearing to extinguish the blaze.
But the ringmaster noted a queer look on his friend's face. It was not the look it usually wore when Joe had completed some hazardous or sensational trick.
"Are you hurt, Joe—burned?" asked Jim Tracy anxiously.
"No," was the answer. "It was all part of the act!"
The ringmaster looked satisfied, and it was not until some time afterward that he learned what a narrow escape Joe had had.
"This will be part of the fire-eating stunt at every show," said Joe to the ringmaster. "You might make the announcement so the people won't be scared."
"I will! Say, it's some stunt all right!" And then Jim began with his sonorous "Ladies and gentlemen!" He stated that the young fire-eater would show his familiarity with, and mastery over, fire by setting himself ablaze and leaping into the tank to extinguish the flames. The ringmaster added that there would be no danger to either the audience or the performer in this feature.
Joe bowed to the applause that followed, and then hurried to his dressing room to don dry clothes for his mystery box trick.
"I should think, if you were going to do tank work, you'd wear a suit better adapted to it—like mine," said Benny Turton, whose apartment was next to Joe's in the dressing tent.
"I'm going to," Joe announced, looking around to make sure no one overheard. "The fact of the matter is, Benny, I didn't count on pulling off this stunt. It was an accident. Some of the alcohol I use on the tow was spilled on my sleeves and caught fire. Then more flames burst out. Luckily they were at my back, so when I ran the flames were fanned away from me. But I knew the tank was the safest place to go, and in I jumped."
"But I heard you tell Jim it was all arranged."
"I did that so the crowd wouldn't get into a panic. However I am going to work the trick at each performance after this, only I'm going to wear a different suit."
And Joe did. He had a garment partly made of asbestos, though outwardly it did not resemble that fire-resisting material any more than do the asbestos curtains in theaters. And at the conclusion of his fire-eating act Joe would seemingly burst into fire and run blazing across the stage to leap into the tank of water.
This finish to the act never failed to win great applause. And once in the tank Joe did some of the under-water tricks that had brought him fame. He was careful, however, not to duplicate anything that Benny Turton did, for he did not want to "crab" the act of his friend.
But Joe's fire and water act was one of the big features on the circus bill.
"Is this the sensation you were speaking of?" asked Helen one day, when they had concluded an afternoon's performance.
"No," answered Joe. "This only came about by accident. I'm working on something more sensational yet, and I am going to ask you to help me."
"I'm sure I'll do anything I can," said she.
"You won't be in any danger," the young magician went on. "I'm beginning to understand fire better the more I study it. I'm not getting too familiar, either, let me tell you. Even a little scorch is very painful."
"I glanced through one of your books the other day," remarked Helen. "Do you really suppose some of those old magicians actually handled fire in the way it is stated?"
"Well, at least they pretended to," said her friend. "There are tricks in all trades, you know."
As the circus went on its way business kept up well, and it was seen that the season was going to be an excellent one from a financial standpoint.
"Any more bogus tickets coming in?" asked Joe one day of the treasurer.
"Not since we adopted the new style," was the answer.
"Have the detectives gotten on the trail of the man, or the men, who cheated us?" asked Helen.
"Not yet," reported Mr. Moyne. "The last report I had from them was that they were getting nearer and nearer to a certain person whom they suspected. They promise an arrest soon."
"That's the usual story," remarked Joe. "However, we don't so much care about an arrest now if we have stopped the counterfeit tickets from being worked off on us."
"Well, there's always a chance that the same thing will happen again," returned Mr. Moyne. "It's too easy money for the criminals to give up, I'm afraid. I'm on the lookout every day for more counterfeits."
"Well, I'll leave it to you," remarked Joe. "Whenever anything happens let me know and we'll take some action."
Joe Strong was now kept very busy in the circus. In fact he was what would be called a "star." He did his mystery box trick, and, with Helen, worked the "vanishing lady" trick so neatly that no one guessed how it was done. The ten thousand dollars was not claimed, successfully, though several tried it, with the result that several local Red Cross organizations were enriched by the hundred dollar forfeit.
In addition to these mystery acts, and some more ordinary sleight-of-hand tricks which he used to fill in with, Joe did his fire-eating trick, ending that act with the plunge into the tank. This never failed to create a sensation.
"But it isn't the big sensation I'm after!" said Joe, when his friends congratulated him. "Wait until you see that!"
Another feature of Joe's performance was his wire-walking. Since he had rescued the lady's cat he had added this to his share of the program, and it was a thriller enjoyed by many audiences.
"But it's a little tame," said Joe one day to Jim Tracy. "I want to put a little more pep into it."
"How are you going to do it?" asked the ringmaster.
"I think I know a way," was the answer.
And a few days later Joe gave a demonstration.
The wire on which he performed was a high one, stretched between two well-braced poles. On each pole was fastened a small platform, somewhat like those high up in the tent where the big swing was fastened.
Joe walked across the wire from one platform to the other, doing various "stunts" on the slender support. One day Jim Tracy noticed that a long to the ground between one of the rings and a wooden platform.
"What's that, Joe?" asked the ringmaster, "Looks like an extra guy wire for the pole."
"No, that's for my new stunt," said Joe. "I'll show you at this show."
The audience watched him performing on the high wire. Jim Tracy was watching, too, for he remembered what Joe had said. Suddenly, at the conclusion of the usual wire-walking feats, Joe stooped, placed his head on the slanting wire, raised himself until he was standing with his legs up and spread apart. Then he quickly flung wide his hands and slid on his head down the slanting win to the ground, stopping himself just before he reached it by grasping the wire in his gloved hands.
Jim Tracy, who was sitting on a box, leaped to his feat.
"Head first!" he cried. "That's some stunt!"
And the audience seemed to think so, too, from the way it applauded.