"It was luck—nothing else. Well, I'll do the best I can. I'm going to see Benny to-morrow, and there may be a change for the better."
"I hope there is. I don't want to lose him out of the show."
Joe went into the tank again at night. It was rather more spectacular in the evening, for special lights above the big glass box filled with water made it sparkle when the bubbles arose as Joe went through one trick after another.
He did pretty much as he had done in the afternoon, and his act was even better received. The crowd applauded loudly. Joe did not try to stay under water any longer at the evening performance than he had done in the afternoon.
"Time enough to work up that end of it if I have to keep on with the act," he thought.
When he saw Benny at the hospital the next day, it was made certain that Joe would have to keep on with the act, at least for the present, if it was to be billed with the circus.
Poor Benny was worse, instead of better. He could hardly hear and he was too weak to write much. But he did manage to scribble a note:
"Dear Joe," he wrote. "I don't know what to do. I haven't been able to save any money, and my mother is an invalid, needing much care. I must try to get back to the tank as soon as possible."
"You'll do nothing of the sort," wrote Joe in reply, for he did not wish to shout for fear of annoying the patients in the rooms near by. "Now don't worry, Ben. It will be all right."
Then Joe wrote out a promise, the keeping of which made quite a change in his prospects, and, for a time, caused him to be misjudged by his friends.