“It is,” was the answer, given with a smile. “I ought to have some of the men help me, but they’re all too busy. My trunk is under this one, and I want to get at it. There’s a hole in my suit I want to get mended before the show opens.”
From that Joe knew the lad to be one of the performers.
“I guess I can get it down for you,” said the young wizard, and with a heave of his powerful arms he lifted down the top trunk.
“My, but you’re strong!” exclaimed the other, somewhat enviously.
“Strong is my last name,” laughed Joe.
“Is it, really?”
“It sure is. Can I help you carry it to your dressing room?”
“Well, if you don’t mind, it would be a favor. I generally have one of the men help me, but we’re a bit late to-day, on account of a train wreck that held us up, and everybody is doing double work. My place is right over there,” and he indicated the tent where he had his dressing room, or, rather, space, for all do not have separate rooms in a circus.
As Joe took hold of one end of the trunk he noticed that it bore, in big, white letters the words:
HUMAN FISH