THE FIRE ACT
Realizing that he must use every caution, Joe Strong had two things to
think of. One was himself, and the other the cat. He could not carry the
creature in his arms, as he needed to extend them to balance himself. He
had walked short distances along slack wires without doing this, but in
those cases he had been able to run, and his speed made up for the lack
of balancing power of the extended arms. Now, however, he needed to
observe this precaution.
What could he do with the cat?
In that moment of peril a boyhood scene arose to Joe's mind. He recalled
that on the farm where he had lived there was a pet cat which liked to
crawl up his back and curl on his shoulders, stretching out completely
across them and snuggling against the back of his head.
"If I can get this cat to do that I'll be all right," thought Joe. "I'll
try it."
Balancing himself, he changed the cat's position and put it up on his
shoulder. Even if it rested on only one it would leave his hands free
and he could extend his arms and balance himself. But Peter seemed to
know just what was wanted of him. With a little "mew," the animal took
the very position Joe wanted it to--extended along his back, close to
his head.
And not until then did Joe begin to step backward. Breathlessly the
crowd watched him. Step by step he went, feeling for the wire on which
he placed his feet. And each step made him more confident.
The crowd was silently watching. It was reserving its wild applause.
Step by step Joe walked backward until he heard the low voice of the
woman at the open window.
"Shall I take Peter now?" she asked.
"Can you reach him?" asked Joe. He knew he was close to the building.
"Yes," she answered.
"Then do," said Joe. "He may try to spring off when he sees himself so
close to you. Take him. I'll stand still a moment."
He felt the cat stirring. The next instant he was relieved of Peter's
weight, and then, with a quick turning motion, Joe himself was half way
within the window and sitting on the sill.
He had walked out on the wire, stretched a hundred feet above the
street, and rescued the cat. The pet was now in the arms of the woman in
black.
And then such a roar as went up in the crowd! Men thumped one another
on the back, and then shook hands, wondering at their foolishness and
why there was such a queer lump in their throats.
"Oh! Oh!" gasped the woman, as she hugged Peter to her. "I can never
thank you enough--not in all my life. It may be foolish to care so much
for a cat. But I can't help it. It isn't all that. I couldn't have borne
it to have seen him fall and be killed."
"He's all right now--after he gets over being scared," said Joe, as he
stroked the cat in the arms of the woman in black.
"And now will you let me know to whom I am indebted?" she asked. "Please
come in, and I'll pay you the reward."
"Well, I'll come in and put on my shoes," said Joe, with a smile. "I
didn't need the gloves," he added. "Peter was very gentle."
"Oh, he's a good cat!" said his mistress. "And now," she added, when Joe
had resumed his shoes and coat, "will you please tell me your name and
how you learned to walk wires and rescue cats?"
"I never rescued cats before," Joe returned, smiling. "It's something
new. But walking wires is my trade--or one of 'em. I'm with the circus.
I do some tricks and--"
"Oh, are you the man who gets out of the box?" she cried. "I have read
about that trick."
"It is one of mine," said Joe modestly.
"I'm so glad to know you!" exclaimed the woman. She seemed less of a
recluse than at first. "I haven't been to a circus for years--not since
I was a child," she continued, half sadly, Joe thought. "But I'm coming
to-night!" she exclaimed. "I'll have the janitor look after my cats and
dogs, and I'll go to the circus. I want to see you act. It will bring
back my lost youth--or part of it," she murmured.
"Allow me to make sure that you will be there," said Joe. "Here is a
reserved ticket. I will look for you."
"And now let me give you the reward I promised," begged the woman, as
Joe was about to leave. "I have the money here--in cash," she added
quickly. She went to a bureau, putting Peter down on a cushion. The cat
observed Joe intently. The woman came back with a roll of bills.
"No, really, I couldn't take it!" protested Joe. "I didn't save your cat
for money. I was glad enough to do it for the animal's sake."
"Please take it!" she urged. "I--I am well off, even if I live here,"
she said hesitatingly. "I shall feel better if you take it."
"And I shall feel better if you give it to the Red Cross," said Joe.
"That needs it, to help the stricken, more than I do. I make pretty good
money myself," he added. "And I didn't do this for a reward."
"But I promised it!"
"Well, then consider that I took it, and you, in my name, may pass it on
to the Red Cross," said Joe. "And now, may I ask your name?"
The woman told him. It was Miss Susan Crawford. The name meant nothing
to Joe, though he afterward learned she was a member of an old, wealthy
and aristocratic family. She had had an unfortunate love affair, and,
her family having all died, she made for herself a little apartment in
one of her many buildings and lived there with her pets--a recluse in
the midst of a big city. It was a pathetic story.
"I wish you would let me reward you in some way," said Miss Crawford
wistfully, as Joe left. "You did so much, and you get nothing out of
it."
"Oh, yes I do," returned the young acrobat. "I'll get a lot of
advertising out of this, and it will be the best thing in the world for
the circus."
And Joe was right. The next day the papers all carried big stories of
his wire-walking feat to save the cat that had ventured out over the
street and was afraid to go back. Bigger crowds than ever came to the
circus.
As she had promised, Miss Crawford was at the evening performance, and
Joe introduced a little novelty in one of his "magic stunts," producing
a cat instead of a rabbit from a man's pocket. As he held it up he
looked over and smiled at the old lady in black, for he had given her a
seat near his stage. She smiled back.
Joe never saw her again. She was found dead a few months later in her
lonely rooms, with her cats and dogs around her. But Joe always
remembered her.
The street wire-walking feat was the talk of the city, and when, the
following day, Joe announced that he was ready to put on his fire act,
which had been well advertised, every one was on figurative tiptoes to
see what it would be.
Joe had made all his preparations, and he had taken care to provide
against danger and accidents. He realized the risk he was running in
handling fire in a circus tent before crowds of people. But
extinguishers were provided, and one of the fire-fighting force of the
circus was constantly on hand.
After the preliminary whistle of the ringmaster which ended the other
acts and prepared for Joe's new one, the young magician advanced to the
platform and gave a little "patter."
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "in introducing my new act I wish,
first of all, to assure you that there is no danger. Even though I seem
to be in the midst of fire, do not be alarmed. I shall be safe, and no
harm will come to you."
Joe did this to forestall a possible panic.
"You have all heard of the ancient salamanders," he went on. "It is
reputed that this animal was able to live in the midst of fire. As to
the truth of that I can not say. I never saw a salamander, that I know
of. But that fire may safely be handled by human beings, and not at the
risk of being burned, I am about to demonstrate to you. I shall first
show you how to carry fire about in your hands, so that if you run short
of matches at any time you will not lack means of igniting the gas,
starting your kitchen range, or enjoying your smoke. While the stage is
being made ready for my main act, I will show you how to carry fire in
your hands."