THE BROKEN BOTTLE
So still was it in the big circus tent after the band stopped playing,
while Joe prepared to do his head slide, that the whirr of the steel
wheels in his leather cap could plainly be heard as he slid down the
wire.
And as Helen and the others watched, the intention of the daring young
performer became evident.
He was going to coast through the blazing hoops of fire which the men
held in such a position that Joe could slide through them without
touching them. Though they were called "hoops," in reality they were not
completely closed, there being a slight opening to enable them to be
slipped over the slanting wire. If a gigantic letter "C" with a long
pole fastened to the lower curved part, can be imagined, it; will give
an exact idea of what is meant.
As to the fire itself, it was caused by blazing bits of tow fastened to
the circumference of the big wire hoops. And thus through the blazing
circles Joe Strong slid down the slanting wire on his head. At the lower
end of the wire, where it was fast to a stake in the ground, he caught
hold of the cable in his gloved hands and so slowed his speed. Then he
leaped to his feet and bowed in acknowledgment of the applause.
"Oh!" murmured Helen, as she watched. "It was only another of his
sensational acts. When I first saw the blazing hoops I half thought that
some one was trying to injure Joe, as they did when the acid was used on
his high trapeze. Oh, it was only a trick!"
And so it was. Joe had planned it that day after meeting Ham Logan. The
latter, talking about the time when he, too, had been a fire-eater, had
mentioned an act where a performer leaped through blazing hoops, and Joe
determined to use the idea, varying it to suit his purpose. That it was
effective was evidenced by the long-continued applause.
"But, Joe," asked Helen, when the performance was over and she and Joe
had received another ovation at the conclusion of the box mystery and
the vanishing lady trick, "wasn't there danger of setting your clothes
on fire when you went through the blazing hoops?"
"None at all," Joe assured her. "I have been planning a stunt like this
for some time, and my garments were fire-proofed. Of course I wouldn't
have done it otherwise. Look here!"
He took up a fancy jacket he had worn in his wire slide. Taking a match
Joe lighted it and held it against the cloth. It did not take fire.
"There was that day--"
"But I have perfected the act since then, Helen. Of course the tungstate
of soda that I soaked the clothes in wouldn't keep them from catching
fire if I put the suit in a furnace. But the solution will make cloth
resist a blaze temporarily, as will alum under some circumstances. I use
alum on the suit I wear when I pretend to set myself on fire and then
jump into the tank of water," went on Joe. "But after this I'm going to
use the soda. It's more certain."
Joe worked the trick of seeming to set himself ablaze in this way. As he
said, his suit was made as nearly fireproof as possible. Then on the
back of his jacket were placed some bunches of tow saturated with
alcohol. When this tow was set on fire it burned quickly, but Joe knew
the flame would not last long. And the fact that the garments on which
the burning material was fastened were as nearly fireproof as was
possible to make them gave him additional safety. He really ran little
risk, as the fire was at his back, and, as he ran toward the tank, his
speed carried the flames away from him.
Joe, and all others who do a fire-eating act, calculate to a nicety just
how long a certain fire will burn. And they do not place the blazing
material into the mouth until the flames are almost on the point of
going out of themselves. This, added to the fact that a chemical
solution protects the tongue and lips, makes the act comparatively safe.
But one word of caution. _Do not try to fire-proof the mouth with
tungstate of soda_. This warning cannot be made too strong!
In fact, it is well not to try any fire-eating _at all_. It is too risky
unless one is a professional.
"Well, Joe," remarked Jim Tracy, later that night when most of the
circus folk were asleep, "if you want to add this fellow to our show, go
ahead. You have the say, you know."
"Well, I don't want to do it in just that way," replied the young
fire-eater. "Bill Watson says that Ham Logan was once a good man. He is
down and out now, but he knows a lot about circus life and this handling
of fire. I believe I can work him up into something useful--use him in a
new act I'm thinking of putting on. If we can only keep him away from
intoxicants he'll be all right, and I'd like to give him a chance."
"Well, Joe, as I said, it's up to you. Go to it! But remember, while he
means all right, he may not have the spunk to keep his promise not to
drink."
"I think he'll keep it," said Joe. "Anyhow, I'd like to give him a
trial. He helped me with that fire hoop stunt, and it would be an act of
charity to give him work."
"All right--you can be the charity," said the ringmaster. "What do you
say, Bill Watson?"
"Oh, give him a chance," replied the old clown good-naturedly. "We all
have our troubles. He can't do much harm, anyhow."
"I don't know about that," said Jim, with a shake of his head. "This
playing with fire by a man who can't keep away from fire-water, is
risky."
"Well, I'll take the chance," said Joe. And that was characteristic of
him--taking chances.
Ham Logan was deeply grateful to Joe for what the young performer did.
That is, he hired the former fire-eater as a sort of handy man in the
circus, Ham to be subject to Joe's direction day and night.
"And let the fire-water alone!" demanded Joe. "I will! I really will!"
said the old circus performer. He seemed to mean it.
Joe advanced him money enough to get some better clothes, to have a bath
and be shaved, and it was quite a different person who appeared at the
tent the following day, ready to help Joe. As Ham knew more about fire
than any assistant Joe had yet been able to train, the new man was given
charge of the various apparatus Joe used in his sensational acts,
including the one of sliding down the wire on his head through the
blazing hoops.
One matter bothered Joe and his friends, in spite of the great success
the circus was having, and this was the bogus tickets. Several hundred
of them were presented at the performances in the city where the two-day
stay was made--the city already mentioned as being the location of a big
automobile industry. And where the tickets came from remained a mystery.
They were so nearly like the ones issued from the ticket wagon that not
until duplicate numbers had been observed could the fraud be detected.
And as the men at the main entrances had no time in the rush to compare
serial numbers, there seemed no way of stopping the cheating. It was
impossible to see to it that every one who came to the show purchased
admission tickets at the wagon. The surging crowds around prevented
this.
Men engaged by the circus circulated through the throngs about the tent,
seeking to learn whether any unauthorized persons were selling bogus
tickets. But none was seen.
"It is evident," said Mr. Moyne, "that the counterfeiters get a bunch of
the fake tickets and sell them in large lots to some men. These men, in
turn, dispose of them at reduced prices to others, and perhaps the
persons who use the tickets do not know they are counterfeits. I believe
the swindlers go to the big factories and stores, and sell the tickets
at a slightly lower price than we ask."
"We ought to be able to put a stop to that," said Joe.
"We'll try it!" said the treasurer. "It seems the only way--that and
having the detectives stop the fraud at the source. You see, we can't
tell which are the counterfeit tickets until after we check up the
serial numbers--that's what makes it so hard."
And so, in spite of the success of Joe's acts and The success of the
show in general, there was this element of annoyance. Joe wished the
mystery could be cleared up. He had received back from the chemist the
two tickets sent on last, and the counterfeit was marked. This was sent
to the paper mill and the detectives notified. That was all that could
be done for the present.
"Well, how's Coal-fire Logan making out?" asked Bill Watson of Joe one
day, just before an afternoon performance.
"Very good," was the answer. "He's faithful and steady, and he's good
help to me. He certainly knows the fire-eating stunt."
"Well, as long as he doesn't do any fire-drinking maybe he'll be all
right," said the old clown.
"I haven't noticed any lapse," said Joe. "I have great hopes of him."
But that very afternoon, during the performance, Joe felt doubt
beginning to creep over him. He caught Ham in several mistakes--slight
ones--but enough, if not noticed in time, to have spoiled the act.
"I wonder what the matter is with him?" mused Joe. "He doesn't seem to
have been drinking, and yet he acts queer. I wonder if he can be using
drugs."
It was at the close of the act and the wind-up of the circus for the
afternoon that Joe told Ham to put away some of the apparatus until
evening. Joe was called away from his dressing room for a moment and
when he came back he saw Ham hastily throw away a dark brown bottle
which struck on a stone and broke. Immediately a queer odor filled the
air.
"I wonder if that was liquor he was taking, and if he threw away the
empty bottle," thought Joe quickly. "I'm going to find out, I've got to
stop this thing at the start."
He hurried to the place where Ham had tossed the bottle. The fragments
lay there, and the queer odor was more pronounced.
"Don't touch that! Let that bottle alone!" suddenly cried Ham Logan, as
he became aware of Joe's intention. "Don't touch it!"