Joe did not regard the warning seriously, and he said nothing about it to Helen or any one else.
"It would only worry Helen," he reflected.
The show was over for the night. Even while the performers in the big tent had been going through with their acts, men had taken away the animal cages and loaded them on the flat railroad cars. Then the animal tent was taken down and packed into wagons with the poles and pegs.
As each performer finished, he or she went to the dressing tent and packed his trunk for transportation. From the dressing tent the actors went to the sleeping car, and straight to bed.
Joe's acts went very well that night. He was applauded again and again and he was quite pleased as he ran out of the tent to make ready for the night journey. He saw Benny Turton changing into his ordinary clothes from his wet fish-suit, which had to be packed in a rubber bag for transportation after the night performance, there being no time to dry it.
"Well, how goes it, Ben?" asked Joe.
"Oh, not very well," was the spiritless answer. "I've got lots of pain."
"Too bad," said Joe in a comforting tone. "Maybe a good night's sleep will fix you up."
"I hope so," said the "human fish."
The circus train was rumbling along the rails. It was the middle of the night, and they were almost due at the town where next they would show.