For there were other parts to Benny's act. The dive into the water was really only the beginning, and no wonder Jim Tracy was anxious as to what could be done to "fill them in."
For the feats of the "human fish" had been widely advertised, and were "billed big," as it is called, on the posters. If the crowd saw no more than had been given them—merely a high dive into a comparatively shallow tank—there would be grumbling.
But, for the time being, there were no murmurings as the crowd expected Benny to come back.
Into the dressing tent the limp form, clad in its scaly green suit, was tenderly carried.
"You got him out in good shape, Joe, with that elephant hook," said Bill Watson.
"Yes. It came in nicely," said Joe, his eyes fixed on the white face of his friend. What had happened to Benny? Would he live?
Tenderly the boy—for he was only a boy—was laid on one of the cots in the dressing tent. Word of the accident had quickly but quietly passed among the circus folk, and already a messenger was on his way to summon a physician. Meanwhile first aid was being administered, for circus people have to hold themselves ready to deal with all sorts of emergencies and accidents.
"I guess he'll pull through," remarked Bill Watson, when it was seen that Benny was breathing, though very faintly.
"It was a close call," remarked another clown.
"That's what it was," agreed Jim Tracy. "A good thing you saw him in time, Joe."