“That’s good. And say, while you’re about it, why don’t you color the wings? Get some paint and daub ’em up so’s they’ll show off better. And you might get up a different sort of suit. I’ve got lots of material.”
“Do you think it would be a good idea?”
“Sure. Change and variety is what we’ve got to give the public. Besides, the old man likes to see a change in the acts once in a while. Brighten things up a bit, and I think he’ll appreciate it.”
“I will,” replied Jack, and that afternoon he made some paper affairs that looked more like wings than did the hoops, while he sewed some bright-colored patches on his white suit and made up to look like some grotesque bird.
“That’s fine!” exclaimed Sam as he saw his protégé getting ready for the ring that night. “You’ve got the right knack, Jack. You’d ought to have been in this business before.”
“I like it,” said the runaway lad. “It just suits me, so far, though it hasn’t been all easy sailing. But I sometimes think I’ve made a mistake. I should have stayed with the professor, for that’s where the first news of my folks will come, and I’m getting worried about them. I’m afraid they may have been killed by the fanatical Chinese.”
“Oh, I don’t believe anything as bad as that has happened,” replied Sam. “I read the papers every day, and while there are dispatches telling of trouble in China, no Americans have suffered.”
“But the trouble is we can’t seem to get any trace of my folks,” went on Jack. “The authorities don’t know where they are, and how can they tell whether anything has happened to them or not?”
“Well, look on the bright side of things. That’s my motto,” answered the clown. “That’s what we’re for—to make people forget their troubles. Take a little of your own medicine, Jack.”
“Yes, I guess that’s a good idea. I’ll try it. Only I wish I could hear some news of my folks. If I make any money this season I’ll go to China and hunt for them.”