Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: Cover art]
JOE STRONG
ON THE TRAPEZE
OR
_THE DARING FEATS OF A YOUNG
CIRCUS PERFORMER_
BY
VANCE BARNUM
Author of "Joe Strong, the Boy Wizard," "Joe Strong, the Boy Fish,"
"Joe Strong on the High Wire," etc.
WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
RACINE, WISCONSIN
BOOKS FOR BOYS
BY
VANCE BARNUM
THE JOE STRONG SERIES
JOE STRONG, THE BOY WIZARD
_Or, The Mysteries of Magic Exposed_
JOE STRONG ON THE TRAPEZE
_Or, The Daring Feats of a Young Circus Performer_
JOE STRONG, THE BOY FISH
_Or, Marvelous Doings in a Big Tank_
JOE STRONG ON THE HIGH WIRE
_Or, Motor-Cycle Perils of the Air_
JOE STRONG AND HIS WINGS OF STEEL
_Or, A Young Acrobat in the Clouds_
JOE STRONG--HIS BOX OF MYSTERY
_Or, The Ten Thousand Dollar Prize Trick_
JOE STRONG, THE BOY FIRE EATER
_Or, The Most Dangerous Performance on Record_
COPYRIGHT, 1916
GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY
Printed by
WESTERN PRINTING & LITHOGRAPHING CO.
Racine, Wisconsin
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE FIRE TRICK
II. JOE'S RESPONSIBILITY
III. ANOTHER OFFER
IV. A CHANCE ENCOUNTER
V. OFF TO THE CIRCUS
VI. JOE MAKES A HIT
VII. JOE TURNS A TRICK
VIII. HELEN'S LETTER
IX. BILL WATSON'S IDEA
X. IN THE TANK
XI. HELEN'S DISCOVERY
XII. JUST IN TIME
XIII. A BAD BLOW
XIV. HELEN'S INHERITANCE
XV. A WARNING
XVI. THE STRIKE
XVII. IN BEDFORD
XVIII. HELEN'S MONEY
XIX. JOE IS SUSPICIOUS
XX. A FALL
XXI. JOE HEARS SOMETHING
XXII. BAD NEWS
XXIII. HELEN GOES
XXIV. JOE FOLLOWS
XXV. THE LAST PERFORMANCE
JOE STRONG ON THE TRAPEZE
CHAPTER I
THE FIRE TRICK
"Better put on your pigeon-omelet trick now, Joe."
"All right. That ought to go well. And you are getting ready for----"
"The fire trick," interrupted Professor Alonzo Rosello, as he and his
young assistant, Joe Strong, stood bowing and smiling in response to
the applause of the crowd that had gathered in the theatre to witness
the feats of "Black Art, Magic, Illusion, Legerdemain, Prestidigitation
and Allied Sciences." That was what the program called it, anyhow.
"The fire trick!" repeated Joe. "Do you think it will work all right
now?"
"I think it will. I've had the apparatus overhauled, and you know we
can depend on the electric current here. It isn't likely to fail just
at the wrong moment."
"No, that's so, still----"
Again Joe had to bow, as did Professor Rosello, for the applause
continued. They were both sharing it, for both had taken part in a
novel trick, and it had been successfully performed.
Joe had taken his place in a chair on the stage, and, after having been
covered by a black cloth by the professor, had, when the cloth was
removed a moment later, totally disappeared. Then he was seen walking
down the aisle of the theatre, coming in from the lobby.
There was much wonder as to how the trick was it done, especially since
the chair had been placed over a sheet of paper on the stage, and,
before and after the trick, the professor had exhibited the sheet--the
front page of a local paper--apparently unbroken. (This trick is
explained in detail in the first volume of this series, entitled, "Joe
Strong, the Boy Wizard.")
"The audience seems to be in good humor to-night," observed the
professor to Joe, as they bowed again. The two could carry on a
low-voiced conversation while "taking" their applause.
"Yes, I'm glad to see them that way," answered the youth. "It's not
much fun playing to a frosty house."
"I should say not! Well, Joe, get ready for your pigeon-omelet trick,
and I'll prepare the fire apparatus."
The professor, with a final bow, made an exit to one side of the stage,
which was fitted up with Oriental splendor. As he went off, and as Joe
Strong picked up some apparatus from a table near him, a disturbed look
came over the face of the boy wizard.
"I don't like that fire trick," he mused. "It's altogether too
uncertain. It's spectacular, and all that, and when it works right it
makes a big hit, but I don't like it. Well, I suppose he'll do it,
anyhow--or try to. I'll be on the lookout though. If the current
fails, as it did last time----" Joe shrugged his shoulders, and went
on with his trick.
Since he had become associated with Professor Rosello, Joe had adopted
the philosophic frame of mind that characterizes many public
performers, especially those who risk bodily injury in thrilling the
public. That is, he was willing to take the chance of accident rather
than disappoint an audience. "The show must go on," was the motto, no
matter how the performer suffered. The public does not often realize
its own cruelty in insisting on being amused or thrilled.
"Yes, I'll have to keep my eyes open," thought Joe. "After all,
though, maybe nothing will happen. And yet I have a feeling as if
something would. It's foolish, I know,, but----"
Again Joe shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing he could do to
avoid it, as far as he could see. Joe was beginning to acquire the
superstition shared by many theatrical persons.
The theatre, filled with persons who had paid good prices to see
Professor Rosello's performance was hushed and still now, as Joe, his
preparations complete, advanced to the edge of the stage. He was
smiling and confident, for he was about to perform a trick he had done
many times, and always with success. For the time being he dismissed
from his mind the risk Professor Rosello would run in doing the "fire
trick," for which the chief performer was even then preparing.
"Persons in the audience," began Joe, smilingly addressing the house,
"often wonder how we actors and professional people eat. It is
proverbial, you know, that actors are always hungry. Now I am going to
show you that it is easier for us to get food than it is for other folk.
"For instance: If I were to be shipwrecked on a desert island I could
reach out into the seemingly empty air, and pick money off invisible
tree branches--like this."
Joe stretched up his hand, which seemed to contain nothing, and in an
instant there appeared between his thumb and finger a bright gold coin.
"So much for a start!" he exclaimed with laugh. "We'll drop that on
this plate, and get more." There was a ringing sound as the coin
dropped on the plate, and Joe, reaching up in the air, seemed to gather
another gold piece out of space. This, too, fell with a clink on the
plate. And then in rapid succession Joe pulled in other coins until he
had a plateful.
Probably it has been guessed how that trick was done. Joe held one
coin in his hand, palmed so that it was not visible. A movement of his
well-trained muscles sent it up between his thumb and finger. Then he
seemed to lay it on a plate. But the plate was a trick one, with a
false bottom, concealed under which was a store of coins. A pressure
on a hidden spring sent one coin at a time out through a slot, and it
seemed as if Joe deposited them on the receptacle as he gathered them
from the air.
"But we must remember," Joe went on, as he laid the plate of coins down
on a table, "that I am on a desert island. Consequently all the money
in the world would be of no use. It would not buy a ham sandwich or a
fresh egg. Why not, then, gather eggs from the air instead of coins?
A good idea. One can eat eggs. So I will gather a few."
Joe stretched his hand up over his head, made a grab at a seemingly
floating egg and, capturing it, laid it on the table. In like manner
he proceeded until he had three.
This trick was worked in the same way as was the coin one, Joe holding
but one egg, cleverly palmed, in his hand, the others popping up from a
secret recess in the table. But the audience was mystified.
"Now some persons like their eggs raw, while others prefer them
cooked," resumed Joe. "I, myself, prefer mine in omelet form, so I
will cook my eggs. I have here a saucepan that will do excellently for
holding my omelet. I will break the eggs into it, add a little water,
and stir them up."
Joe suited the action to the words. He cracked the three eggs, one
after another, holding them high in the air to let the audience see the
whites and yolks drip into the shining, nickel pan.
"But a proper omelet must be cooked," Joe said. "Where shall we get
fire on a desert island, particularly as all our matches were made wet
when we swam ashore? Ah, I have it! I'll just turn this bunch of
flowers into flame."
He took up what seemed to be a spray of small roses and laid it under
the saucepan. Pointing his wand at the flowers Joe exclaimed:
"Fire!"
Instantly there was a burst of flame, the flowers disappeared, and
flickering lights shot up under the saucepan.
"Now the omelet is cooking," said Joe, as he clapped on a cover. "We
shall presently dine. You see how easy it is for actors and magicians
to eat, even on a desert island. I think my omelet must be cooked now."
He took the cover off the saucepan and, on the instant, out flew two
white pigeons, which, after circling about the theatre, returned to
perch on Joe's shoulders.
There was loud applause at this trick.
The boy wizard bowed and smiled as he acknowledged the tribute to his
powers, and then hurried off the stage with the pigeons on his
shoulders. He did not stop to explain how he had chosen to make the
omelet change into pigeons, the surprise at the unexpected ending of
the illusion being enough for the audience.
Of course, one realizes there must have been some trick about it all,
and there was--several in fact. The eggs Joe seemed to pick out of the
air were real eggs, and he really broke them into the saucepan. But
the saucepan was made with two compartments. Into one went the eggs,
while in another, huddled into a small space where there were air holes
through which they might breathe, were two trained pigeons, which Joe
had taught, not without some difficulty, to fly to his shoulders when
released.
After he had put the cover on the saucepan Joe caused the fire to
appear. The flowers were artificial ones, made of paper soaked in an
inflammable composition, and then allowed to dry. As Joe pointed his
wand at them an assistant behind the scenes pressed an electric button,
which shot a train of sparks against the prepared paper. It caught
fire, the flowers were burned, and ignited the wick of an alcohol lamp
that was under the saucepan.
Then, before the pigeons had time to feel the heat, Joe took off the
cover, opening the secret chamber and the birds flew out.
Easy, indeed, when you know how!
Joe walked off the stage, to give place to Professor Rosello, who was
going next to give his "fire trick." This was an effective illusion,
and was worked as follows:
Professor Rosello came out on the stage attired in a flowing silk robe
of Japanese design. His helpers wheeled out a long narrow box, which
was stood upright.
The professor, after some "patter," or stage talk, announced that he
would take his place in the small box, or cabinet, which would then be
lifted free from the stage to show that it was not connected with
hidden wires. As soon as the cabinet was set down again, the house
would be plunged in darkness, and inside the cabinet would be seen a
bony skeleton, outlined in fire, the professor having disappeared.
This would last for several seconds, and then the illuminated skeleton
would disappear and the magician again be seen in the box.
"And in order to show you that I do not actually leave the box while
the trick is in progress except in spirit," the professor went on to
state, "I will suffer myself to be tied in with ropes, a committee from
the audience being invited to make the knots."
He took his place in the upright cabinet, and three men volunteered to
tie him in with ropes which were fastened at the back of the box, two
ends being left free.
The cabinet containing the professor was lifted up, and set down on the
stage again. Then the ropes were tied, Joe supervising this.
"Tie any kind of knot you like, gentlemen," Joe urged, "only make them
so you can quickly loosen them again, as the professor is very much
exhausted after this illusion." This, of course, was merely stage talk
for effect.
Finally the knots were tied, the committee retired, and Joe, taking his
place near the imprisoned performer, asked:
"Are you ready?"
He looked keenly at the professor as he asked this.
"It's all right Joe--I guess it's going to work properly," was the
low-voiced response. Then aloud Professor Rosello replied:
"I am ready!"
"Light out!" called Joe sharply. This was a signal for the stage
electrician to plunge the house into darkness. It was done at once.
Then, to the no small terror of some in the audience, there appeared in
the upright cabinet the figure of a grinning skeleton, outlined in
flickering flames. It was startling, and there was a moment of silence
before thunderous applause broke out at the effectiveness of the trick.
The clapping was at its height when Joe, who always stood near the
cabinet when this trick was being done, heard the agonized voice of the
professor calling to him:
"Joe! Joe! Something has gone wrong! There must be a short circuit!
I'm on fire! Joe, I'm being burned! Help me!"