“Her trick horse, and a dandy, too.” Then, though Joe did not ask, Jim went on. “She’s one of our biggest drawing cards. Her name is Helen Morton, but she’s billed as Mademoiselle Mortonti. It looks better on paper.”
“What does she do?” Joe found himself asking.
“Fancy riding, and on a trick horse. She makes Rosebud do all sorts of tricks—amuses the young folks, and some of the old ones too. She makes a great pet of her horse and gives him lump sugar as a reward. I generally have a supply on hand for her, but it must have got side-tracked on account of the mix-up. However, I found some for her.
“She’s one of the finest little girls in the world,” went on the ring-master earnestly. “We all love her. She’s an orphan, but she doesn’t lack friends. Some folks sort of look down on circus performers,” went on Jim, with a flash of his eyes, “but I want to tell you, right now, that——”
“You don’t need to tell me anything,” said Joe in a low voice. “My mother was a circus performer. Madame Hortense was the name she rode under.”
Jim stared at Joe with open mouth.
“Your mother in the profesh?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, I can’t say I ever heard of her—but that’s not strange,” said the ring-master slowly. “I haven’t been in the business all my life. But if your mother was a circus rider then you know. Shake!”
He held out a powerful hand. Joe gripped it none the less powerfully.