"Look here, Harry! what's the matter?" cried Joe, purposely using a rough voice, so as to stop, if possible, the display of emotion on the part of the youth. "Act like a man, can't you! If you've done some mean trick tell me about it. What do you mean when you say this mixture is doped?"
"Just that!" exclaimed Harry, looking up with haggard face. "I can't stand it any longer. I promised not to tell, but I've got to. I—I can't see any harm come to you."
"Harm!" cried Joe. "Do you mean this is poison?"
"No, not that. He said it wouldn't do you any harm—that it would only make the act turn out wrong—that you, nor anybody, would not be hurt. But I don't believe him. I believe he wants to harm you, and I'm going to tell all I know. I can't stand it any longer."
"Look here, Harry!" said Joe sternly, "are you perfectly sober? Do you know what you're saying?"
"Yes, I know that, all right, Mr. Strong," whined the lad. "I won't say I haven't been drinking, for I have. I did it to try to forget, but it wouldn't work. I'm plenty sober enough to know what I'm saying."
"And you tell me this chemical preparation will work harm to me and those who help me in the fire acts?"
"I don't know as to that, Mr. Strong. He told me that it wouldn't harm you. But I don't believe him! I won't trust him any more."
"Who do you mean?" asked Joe. "Do you know anything about this?" he demanded sternly of Ted Brown. "You prepared this mixture, didn't you?"
"Yes, Mr. Strong, I did. I made it just the way you told me. If you think—"