"Hardly that," laughed Joe, as he let out a long breath.
"Then what are you doing?"
"Practising deep breathing for my tank work. I'm going to try for the four-minute record to-day."
"Are you really?" Helen was much interested.
"I don't say I'm going to do it," went on Joe, for he was anything but boastful. "But this seems a good day to make the attempt. It's clear and crisp after the rain, and I seem to be able to hold my breath longer on a day like this than when it's warm and muggy. So I thought I'd get in a little early practice before I got too loggy with a big breakfast."
"A good idea," Helen said. "I'll wait for you and we'll eat together."
"Thanks," remarked Joe. "But I'll be ten minutes yet, and your appetite may not stand such a delay."
"Oh, yes, it will," laughed Helen. "I'll run over and see how Rosebud is while you finish your practice," and she turned toward the horse tent where her trick pet was contentedly munching his breakfast of oats.
Joe practised faithfully, for he had made up his mind that this was a good time to try to make a new under-water record—that is, new for him.
"If I can't get an elephant, or something big like that, to work in the water with me, I'll have to thrill the crowds by making them wonder how I can live so long without breathing," decided Joe. "I'll do four minutes or—bust!" and he smiled at his conceit.