Old Benares, across on his trapeze, regarded his partner in bewilderment.
Suddenly Thacher shot out some words towards him. It was a kind of circus gibberish, mixed with enough straight English to enlighten Andy that his story was being imparted to Old Benares.
"You must get me out of this," said Andy. "The audience is becoming restive."
Thacher extended his hand, the back showing, in the direction of the orchestra. The band, at this signal, struck up a quick, lively tune.
"Get clear on the bar," directed Thacher rapidly, giving Andy more room. "Say," he added, in some surprise at Andy's cleverness, "you seem at home all right. Performer?"
"Oh, no—only a little amateur practice."
"It's given you the right nerve. Now then, you can't get up again, you've got to go down. Want to do it gracefully?"
"Sure," smiled Andy, perfectly calm and collected.
The situation rather delighted him than otherwise. He had supreme confidence in his companion, and felt that he was in safe hands.
"Are you grit for a swing?" pursued Thacher.