"Probably they fixed the rope with acid, and kept it ready against the chance that some day I might use it," reflected Joe. "The worst that could happen would be to spoil my tricks—I couldn't get much hurt falling into the net, and they knew that. But it was a mean act, all right, and I sha'n't forget it. I guess they want to discourage me so they can get their former partner back. But I'm going to stick!"
"Did you find out anything, Joe?" asked Helen, when she had a chance to speak to him alone.
"I sure did, thanks to you, little girl. I might have had a ridiculous fall if I'd used their trapeze. You were right in what you suspected."
"Oh, Joe! I'm so glad I saw it in time to warn you."
"So am I, Helen. It was a mean piece of business, and cunning. I never suspected them of it."
"Oh, but you will be careful after this, won't you, Joe?"
"Indeed I will! I want to live long enough to see you get your fortune. By the way, when is that lawyer coming?"
"He is to meet me day after to-morrow."
"I'll be on hand," Joe promised.
It rained the next day, and working in a circus during a rain is not exactly fun. Still the show goes on, "rain or shine," as it says on the posters, and the performers do not get the worst of it. It is the wagon and canvas men who suffer in a storm.