HEAD FIRST
Which was the more surprised--Benny Turton, who had just finished his
fish act in his tank, the spellbound audience, or Jim Tracy, who was, in
a way, directing Joe's performance--it would be hard to say. All three
were thrilled by the unexpected outcome of the fire-eating act. Joe
Strong alone seemed perfectly at his ease, and, it might be mentioned
incidentally, perfectly at home in the water. He had, as told in a
previous volume, entitled "Joe Strong, the Boy Fish," perfected himself
in this sort of work, and could remain submerged for an unusually long
time.
Of course the fire which seemed to envelop the young magician was
instantly put out when he leaped into the tank. He was wearing a rather
fancy suit, and as he came up, wet and bedraggled, Jim Tracy could not
help wondering what Joe meant by his performance.
"Joe! Joe! was that part of the act or an accident?" asked Jim in a low
voice, as he ran over to where Joe was now climbing out of the tank.
For one instant Joe hesitated. The audience was wildly applauding now.
Clearly there was but one thought in their minds. The whole thing was a
trick--Joe had only pretended to be on fire and had taken that
sensational means of appearing to extinguish the blaze.
But the ringmaster noted a queer look on his friend's face. It was not
the look it usually wore when Joe had completed some hazardous or
sensational trick.
"Are you hurt, Joe--burned?" asked Jim Tracy anxiously.
"No," was the answer. "It was all part of the act!"
The ringmaster looked satisfied, and it was not until some time
afterward that he learned what a narrow escape Joe had had.
"This will be part of the fire-eating stunt at every show," said Joe to
the ringmaster. "You might make the announcement so the people won't be
scared."
"I will! Say, it's some stunt all right!" And then Jim began with his
sonorous "Ladies and gentlemen!" He stated that the young fire-eater
would show his familiarity with, and mastery over, fire by setting
himself ablaze and leaping into the tank to extinguish the flames. The
ringmaster added that there would be no danger to either the audience or
the performer in this feature.
Joe bowed to the applause that followed, and then hurried to his
dressing room to don dry clothes for his mystery box trick.
"I should think, if you were going to do tank work, you'd wear a suit
better adapted to it--like mine," said Benny Turton, whose apartment was
next to Joe's in the dressing tent.
"I'm going to," Joe announced, looking around to make sure no one
overheard. "The fact of the matter is, Benny, I didn't count on pulling
off this stunt. It was an accident. Some of the alcohol I use on the tow
was spilled on my sleeves and caught fire. Then more flames burst out.
Luckily they were at my back, so when I ran the flames were fanned away
from me. But I knew the tank was the safest place to go, and in I
jumped."
"But I heard you tell Jim it was all arranged."
"I did that so the crowd wouldn't get into a panic. However I am going
to work the trick at each performance after this, only I'm going to wear
a different suit."
And Joe did. He had a garment partly made of asbestos, though outwardly
it did not resemble that fire-resisting material any more than do the
asbestos curtains in theaters. And at the conclusion of his fire-eating
act Joe would seemingly burst into fire and run blazing across the stage
to leap into the tank of water.
This finish to the act never failed to win great applause. And once in
the tank Joe did some of the under-water tricks that had brought him
fame. He was careful, however, not to duplicate anything that Benny
Turton did, for he did not want to "crab" the act of his friend.
But Joe's fire and water act was one of the big features on the circus
bill.
"Is this the sensation you were speaking of?" asked Helen one day, when
they had concluded an afternoon's performance.
"No," answered Joe. "This only came about by accident. I'm working on
something more sensational yet, and I am going to ask you to help me."
"I'm sure I'll do anything I can," said she.
"You won't be in any danger," the young magician went on. "I'm beginning
to understand fire better the more I study it. I'm not getting too
familiar, either, let me tell you. Even a little scorch is very
painful."
"I glanced through one of your books the other day," remarked Helen. "Do
you really suppose some of those old magicians actually handled fire in
the way it is stated?"
"Well, at least they pretended to," said her friend. "There are tricks
in all trades, you know."
As the circus went on its way business kept up well, and it was seen
that the season was going to be an excellent one from a financial
standpoint.
"Any more bogus tickets coming in?" asked Joe one day of the treasurer.
"Not since we adopted the new style," was the answer.
"Have the detectives gotten on the trail of the man, or the men, who
cheated us?" asked Helen.
"Not yet," reported Mr. Moyne. "The last report I had from them was that
they were getting nearer and nearer to a certain person whom they
suspected. They promise an arrest soon."
"That's the usual story," remarked Joe. "However, we don't so much care
about an arrest now if we have stopped the counterfeit tickets from
being worked off on us."
"Well, there's always a chance that the same thing will happen again,"
returned Mr. Moyne. "It's too easy money for the criminals to give up,
I'm afraid. I'm on the lookout every day for more counterfeits."
"Well, I'll leave it to you," remarked Joe. "Whenever anything happens
let me know and we'll take some action."
Joe Strong was now kept very busy in the circus. In fact he was what
would be called a "star." He did his mystery box trick, and, with Helen,
worked the "vanishing lady" trick so neatly that no one guessed how it
was done. The ten thousand dollars was not claimed, successfully, though
several tried it, with the result that several local Red Cross
organizations were enriched by the hundred dollar forfeit.
In addition to these mystery acts, and some more ordinary
sleight-of-hand tricks which he used to fill in with, Joe did his
fire-eating trick, ending that act with the plunge into the tank. This
never failed to create a sensation.
"But it isn't the big sensation I'm after!" said Joe, when his friends
congratulated him. "Wait until you see that!"
Another feature of Joe's performance was his wire-walking. Since he had
rescued the lady's cat he had added this to his share of the program,
and it was a thriller enjoyed by many audiences.
"But it's a little tame," said Joe one day to Jim Tracy. "I want to put
a little more pep into it."
"How are you going to do it?" asked the ringmaster.
"I think I know a way," was the answer.
And a few days later Joe gave a demonstration.
The wire on which he performed was a high one, stretched between two
well-braced poles. On each pole was fastened a small platform, somewhat
like those high up in the tent where the big swing was fastened.
Joe walked across the wire from one platform to the other, doing various
"stunts" on the slender support. One day Jim Tracy noticed that a long
to the ground between one of the rings and a wooden platform.
"What's that, Joe?" asked the ringmaster, "Looks like an extra guy wire
for the pole."
"No, that's for my new stunt," said Joe. "I'll show you at this show."
The audience watched him performing on the high wire. Jim Tracy was
watching, too, for he remembered what Joe had said. Suddenly, at the
conclusion of the usual wire-walking feats, Joe stooped, placed his head
on the slanting wire, raised himself until he was standing with his legs
up and spread apart. Then he quickly flung wide his hands and slid on
his head down the slanting win to the ground, stopping himself just
before he reached it by grasping the wire in his gloved hands.
Jim Tracy, who was sitting on a box, leaped to his feat.
"Head first!" he cried. "That's some stunt!"
And the audience seemed to think so, too, from the way it applauded.