"Ah, Señor Strong," called Señorita Tanlazo, the snake charmer, as she passed Joe on her way to look after her reptiles in their air-holed box, "ah, why did you not take advantage of my offer, and use my nice big anaconda in the tank with you?"
"Thank you again, but no," said Joe. "The anaconda is a little too ill-tempered for me."
"Yes, he is that. I was only joking when I suggested that you use him," said the Spanish woman. "I have to be very careful how I handle him of late. He is getting ready to shed his skin, and that always makes a snake treacherous. But have you put anything new in your act of late? I have not been able to watch you, though they tell me you are quite a drawing card."
"No, I haven't been able to hit on anything new," Joe said. "I wish I could. If you hear of anything I wish you'd let me know."
"I will," promised the snake charmer, as she passed on. "Here is a theatrical paper you might like to look at," she said. "I am through with it; so you need not keep it for me."
She handed Joe a magazine which chronicled the doings of actors and actresses, news of circuses, theatrical companies and other amusement enterprises.
Joe had seen it before, and he now looked through it for any news of Professor Rosello's show, in which he had begun his public career.
"It's still on the road," mused Joe, as he saw a note to that effect. "The professor can't have recovered yet."
Joe turned over the pages of the publication rather idly. As he glanced over the advertisements there was one that caught his attention. He read it once—twice, eagerly. Then he cried:
"Say, I believe that would be the very thing I've been looking for! If I could work that in it would be a hit! I'll write to that man."