But in one trick—that of making a young man disappear when seated in a chair on the stage in full view of the audience—Joe took an active part.
Having gone over as much as he thought necessary, Professor Rosello took Joe to the boarding house, where they would stay for at least three nights. There, too, the magician gave Joe more instructions, and had him practice some palming and card tricks. Joe was naturally good at these.
“I’m almost glad my regular assistant failed me,” the professor said, “for I think you are going to be better, Joe. You have a natural aptitude for learning this art.”
“I’m glad you think so,” remarked the youth, “for I want very much to perfect myself in it.”
That afternoon Joe and the professor went through several tricks for practice, taking care that no small boys or other unauthorized persons were secretly in the theatre to see how the tricks were done, and so reveal them.
The night of the performance came at last, and Joe went to the Opera House with the professor. They went back on the stage to see that all was in readiness for the curtain to rise.
“A good house,” remarked Professor Rosello, as he peered through the peep-hole of the curtain. “We’ll make a little money to-night, Joe.”
“I’m glad of it. I wouldn’t want to bring you bad luck.”
“Oh, I think you’ll bring me good luck. Now we’re ready, I guess.”
The curtain went up, the professor came out, bowing and smiling and making the handkerchief disappear by cleverly palming it, then slipping it into one of his secret pockets, afterward seeming to draw it from the end of his wand. To do this, of course, he merely palmed it again, and let it gradually appear as he wished.