“I nearly was, once,” declared Sam simply.
“How?”
“Just like last night. Tent blew down in a tornado, and the whole show, and a big crowd, was caught. Pole hit me on the head, and I lay there unconscious and slowly smothering. They got me out in time, but fifteen people were killed.”
“This is a more dangerous life than I thought,” mused Jack.
“Dangerous? I guess it is. Folks on the outside don’t know anything about it. They think being in a circus is fun. I wish some of them had about six months of it.”
The performances that afternoon and evening went off well, and for a week after that the circus played in good weather. The show was gradually working back east, and as there had been big crowds, and no mishaps to speak of, every one was in good humor.
Jack had no further trouble with the ugly ringmaster and Ted Chester, and his act was now looked upon as one of the most “drawing” features of the show. Mr. Paine promised the lad if he would stay with him the next season that he would pay our hero twenty-five dollars a week.
Jack did not know what to do. He had quite a sum saved up, but not enough to go to China with, and yet he desired to go and seek his parents. He disliked to do as Sam had suggested, and appeal to the professor, although he felt that it might be the best plan. If no news had been received from China, Jack made up his mind he would remain with the circus for another summer, but there was one difficulty in the way.
The show had no winter season, and Jack would be out of a job until next spring. He would have to live in the meantime, and, unless he could get a place in some theatre, which was doubtful, all his savings might go to support him while the show was in winter quarters. It was a harder problem to solve than he had any idea of, and he decided he would talk with Sam about it.
“That’s what I’ll do,” Jack decided one day after the afternoon performance had come to a close. “I’ll ask him what he would do.”