A SUDDEN WARNING
Only the fact that he had strong nerves and that he possessed the
ability of concentrating his mind on whatever was uppermost at the time,
enabled the young circus man to get through his various circus acts with
credit at that performance. He began with the worry over Ham Logan's
disappearance before him. And he was actually worried--a bad state of
affairs for one whose ability to please and deceive critical audiences
depends on his snappy acting, his quickness of hand and mind, and his
skill.
But, as has been said, Joe possessed the ability to concentrate on the
most needful matter, and that, for the time being, was his box trick,
his fire-eating, and his slide on his head down the slanting wire
through the blazing hoops.
Then came the blazing banquet, and this created the usual furor in the
audience. Joe managed to get through it with credit, though his rather
strange manner was noticed and commented on afterward by the young
people associated with him.
"I wonder what's bothering the boss?" asked one of the young
fire-eaters of another. "He nearly made a slip when he was lifting up
that fake fried oyster."
"Maybe the circus is losing money and he's got to cut out this act--let
some of us go--can't pay our salaries," was the reply.
"Don't you believe it!" declared the other. "The circus is making more
money than it ever did--more even when the fake tickets are worked off
on it."
"Well, it's none of our affair."
"I wouldn't like my salary to be cut off."
"Oh, neither would I."
"Fake tickets? I hadn't heard of them."
"Oh, yes," explained the first speaker, and he went into the details of
the affair.
"But there's surely something worrying the boss," commented still
another of the young men, and his associates, including the "pretty
girls," agreed with him.
And what really was worrying Joe was speculation over the fate of Ham
Logan. Not since Joe had first taken the old and broken circus actor
into his employ had Ham been away more than a few hours at a time, and
then Joe knew where he was. This time Ham had left no word, save the
uncertain one that he was going into the city, on the outskirts of
which the circus was at the time showing.
"But don't you think he'll come back?" asked Jim Tracy, when, after the
performance, Joe had spoken of the missing Ham.
"I wish I could think so," was the reply. "I sure will hate to lose him.
I depend a lot on him in my fire tricks."
"What makes you think you will lose him?" asked Tracy curiously.
"Well, his going off this way, for one," declared Joe. "What I'm really
afraid of is that he may have gone back to his bad habits. You know how
it is. A man starts to reform, and he keeps the pledges he makes until
he meets some of his boon companions who used to help him on the
downward road. They invite him to come along for a good time, and he
goes."
"And you think that's what's happened to Ham?"
"I'm afraid so. I'm going down town and see if I can get any trace of
him."
And this Joe did as soon as he was relieved of his duties in the circus.
The show was to remain in town over night, and this gave him just the
chance he wanted.
It was an unpleasant errand, but Joe went through with it. He had to
call at many places that were distasteful to him, but in none of them
did he get a trace of Ham Logan. Joe saw in the more brilliant parts of
the city a number of the circus men, including some of the chief
performers. They were taking advantage of the two-days' stay, and were
meeting old friends and making some new acquaintances.
Of these Joe inquired for news of Ham, but no one had seen him. The old
fire-eater had endeared himself to more than one member of the Sampson
Brothers' Show, for he was always ready to do a favor. So more than Joe
were interested in seeing that Ham kept on the good road along which he
had started. But all of Joe's efforts were of no avail.
It was after midnight when he ended his search, and, rather than go back
to the sleeping car where the other performers spent their night, Joe
put up at a hotel, sending word to Jim Tracy of what he intended to do.
"I want to find Ham," Joe wrote in the note he sent to the ringmaster by
a messenger boy, "and I've asked the police to be on the quiet lookout
for him. If I stay at the hotel I can help him more quickly, in case
he's found, than if I am away out at the railroad siding where the
circus train is. I'll see you in the morning."
But Joe's night at the hotel was spent in vain, for there was no word of
Ham Logan, and the morning which Joe put in, making inquiries, was
equally fruitless.
"I guess Ham is gone for good," sighed Joe, and his regret was genuine,
and almost as much for the sake of the man himself as for his own loss
of a good assistant.
For Ham Logan was that and more to Joe. The former tramp had much
valuable information regarding the old style fire-eating tricks, and
though he was not up to the task of doing them himself, he gave Joe good
advice. It was by his help and advice that Joe had staged the blazing
banquet scene, which was such a success and which the newspapers
mentioned constantly.
True, Joe did not actually need Ham to go on with his acts. He could
break in another man to help him, to hand him the proper article at just
the right time, to see to the mixing of the fire-resisting chemicals and
to the preparation of the viands that seemed to be composed of fire
itself.
"And that's what I'll have to do," mused Joe, when he became convinced
some days later that Ham was not to be found.
He wished that Helen was able to act as his assistant in the fire
scenes, as she did in the box trick and the vanishing lady act. But she
could spare no more time from her own act with Rosebud, since she was
billed as one of the "stars." Then, too, Helen had a fear of fire, and
though she had succeeded in overcoming part of it, still she would not
have made the proper sort of assistant in those acts. Besides, she
would not have been able to mix the chemicals Joe required to render
himself immune from such fire as he actually came in contact with,
though momentarily.
"I've got to train in a new man," decided Joe. He mentally considered
various circus employees, rejecting one after another, and finally
selected one of the young men who acted in the blazing banquet scene.
This youth was a bright, manly fellow, and had introduced some new
"business" in the act which made it more interesting.
"I'll train him in," decided Joe, "with the understanding that if Ham
comes back he'll get his old place. If he comes back! I wonder if he
ever will, and if he'll be in a condition to help me."
Joe shook his head dubiously.
The circus moved on. It had played to good business, and there was more
good business in prospect. Mr. Moyne, the treasurer, was on the anxious
seat much of the time, fearing another flood of bogus tickets, but the
efforts mentioned, on the part of the swindlers, following the use of
new paper, was all they had to complain of so far.
"Either the detectives are too close to the trail of the cheats to allow
them to work in safety, or they've given it up altogether," decided the
treasurer.
"I hope so," said Joe. "Still it won't do to relax our vigilance. I
wrote to the detective firm, as I said I would, jacking them up a bit.
Maybe they are ready to make an arrest, and that would stop the
swindlers."
The young man Joe had picked out to act as his chief assistant in the
fire scenes was Ted Brown. Ted was about eighteen years old, and this
was his first position with a circus. But he was making good, and he had
not yet been afflicted with the terrible disease known as "swelled
head," something which ruins so many performers.
Ted learned rapidly, and Joe felt that it would be safe to trust him
with some of the secrets of the tricks--the mixing of the fire-resisting
chemicals and the like. Joe's choice seemed to be a good one, for Ted
did well, and his part in the banquet scene was made even better by his
knowledge of the inner workings of the material used.
But though Joe did not lose materially by the desertion of Ham, if that
was what it was, since he could now depend on Ted, the young circus man
many times found himself wondering if he would ever see the old
fire-eater again.
The circus opened one afternoon in a large city--one in which lived many
thousands of men employed in a large ship-building plant.
"There'll be big crowds here," said Mr. Moyne, as he walked toward the
ticket wagon in preparation for the rush. "And it's here we'll have to
look out for bogus coupons."
"Why?" asked Joe, who was getting ready for his acts.
"Because in every other case the swindlers have worked their game where
there was a big plant engaging many men of what you might call rough and
ready character--ready to take a chance on scalped admission tickets,
and rough enough to fight if they were discovered. So I'm going to be on
the watch."
"It's just as well to be," decided Joe. He turned back into the tent
which was his combined dressing room and a storage place for his various
smaller bits of apparatus and the chemicals he used in his fire act.
Before giving his last act Joe always washed his hands and face and
rinsed his mouth out with a chemical preparation that would, for a time,
resist the action of fire. It was a secret compound, rather difficult to
handle and make, and Joe had taught Ted Brown how to do it.
The young fellow was handing Joe this mixture, some of which was also
used by all who took part in the blazing banquet scene, when the flap of
the tent was suddenly pushed aside and Harry Loper entered.
"Stop!" he cried, raising a restraining hand. "Don't use that solution,
Mr. Strong! It's doped! Don't use it!"
Joe, who had been about to apply some of the stuff to his hands, turned
in surprise. He was alarmed at the strange look on the face of the youth
who acted as his helper in the high wire and in some of the trapeze
acts.
"Don't use that stuff!" cried Harry. "It's doped!" and then he sank down
on a chair and, burying his face in his hands, burst into tears.