"But I don't like to see you take such risks," Helen said to him on more than one occasion. "I'm afraid you'll be hurt."
"You have to take risks in this business," Joe stated. "I don't think about them when I'm away up at the top of the tent, swinging on the bar. I just think of the trick and wonder if Sid or Tonzo will catch me or me one of them when the jump is made. Besides, the life net is always below us.
"Yes, but suppose you miss the net or it breaks?"
"I don't like supposes of that sort," laughed Joe, coolly. Truly he had good nerves, under perfect control. He was adding to his muscular strength, too. Constant and steady practice was making his arms and legs powerful indeed.
For a while Joe had been on the watch for some overt act on the part of Sid or Tonzo that would spoil an act and bring censure down on himself. But following that one attempt neither of the Spaniards did anything that Joe could find fault with. They were enthusiastic over some of the feats he performed, and worked in harmony with him. If they were jealous over Joe's popularity and the applause he often received as his share alone in some trick, they did not show it.
"Oh, Joe!" exclaimed Helen one day, when they were in the small tent getting ready for the afternoon performance. "I have a letter from the New York lawyers."
"What do they say?" Joe asked eagerly. "Did they send the money?"
"No. But they thanked me for the copies of the proofs I sent, and they said they believed they were on the right track. They will write again soon. So it wasn't a joke, anyhow."
"It doesn't look so," the youth agreed. "Is everything all right—Rosebud safe, and all that?"
"Yes. He's feeling himself again." The trick horse had been ailing the day before, and Helen was a little worried about her pet.