A CHANCE ENCOUNTER
Professor Rosello and Joe Strong looked at each other. It was not
unusual for the magician to receive telegrams in reference to his
professional engagements, but Joe up to now had never received one of
the lightning messages which, to the most of us, are unusual
occurrences.
"Are you sure it's for me?" Joe asked the boy, as he opened the door.
"It's got your name on it," was the answer. That seemed proof enough
for any one.
"Maybe it's from your folks--the deacon," suggested the professor.
"Something may have happened."
He really hoped there had not, but, in a way, he wanted to prepare Joe
for a possible shock.
"I wonder if it can have anything to do with the deacon's robbery,"
mused Joe as he took the message from the waiting lad. "But, no, it
can't be that. Denton and Harrison are still in jail--or they were at
last accounts--and the robbery is cleared up as much as it ever will
be. Can't be that."
And then, unwilling and unable to speculate further, and anxious to
know just what was in the message Joe tore open the envelope. The
message was typewritten, as are most telegrams of late, and the message
read:
"If you are at liberty, can use you in a single trapeze act. Forty a
week to start. Wire me at Slater Junction. We show there three days.
Jim Tracy--Sampson Bros. Circus."
"What is it?" asked the professor as he noted a strange look on Joe's
face. In fact, there was a combination of looks. There was surprise,
and doubt, and pleased anticipation.
"It's an offer," answered Joe, slowly.
"An offer!"
"Yes, to join a circus."
"A circus!"
The professor did not seem capable of talking in very long sentences.
"Yes, the Sampson Brothers' Show," Joe went on. "You know I went to
see them that time they played the same town and date we did. I met
the 'human fish' and----"
"Oh, yes, I remember. You did some acts on the trapeze then."
"Yes, and this Jim Tracy--he's ring-master and one of the owners--made
me a sort of offer then. But I didn't want to leave you. Now he
renews the offer."
The boy wizard handed the message to the professor who read it through
carefully. Then after a look at Joe he said:
"Well, my boy, that's a good offer, I'd take it. I sha'n't be able to
pay you forty a week for some time, though you might make it if you
took my show out on the road alone, or with one assistant. Then, too,
there's always a chance to make more in a circus--that is, if you
please your public. I might say thrill them enough, for your trapeze
act will have to be mostly thrills, I take it."
"Yes," assented Joe. And, somehow, a feeling of exultation came to
him. While doing puzzling tricks before a mystified audience was
enticing work, yet Joe had a longing for the circus. He was almost as
much at home high in the air, with nothing but a slack wire or a
swaying rope to support him, as he was on the ground. Part of this was
due to his early attempts to emulate the feats of circus performers,
but the larger part of it was born in him. He inherited much of his
daring from his mother, and his quickness of eye and hand from his
father.
Moreover, mingled with the desire to do some thrilling act high up on a
trapeze in a circus tent, while the crowd below held its breath, Joe
felt a desire to meet again pretty Helen Morton, whose bright smile and
laughing eyes he seemed to see in fancy now.
"It's a good offer," went on the professor, slowly, "and it seems to
come at the right time for both of us, Joe. We were talking about your
taking out my show. I really don't feel able to keep up with it--at
least for a time. Are you ready to give me an answer now, Joe, or
would you like to think it over a bit?"
"Perhaps I had better think of it a bit," the youth answered. "Though
I have pretty nearly made up my mind."
"Don't be in a hurry," urged Professor Rosello. "There is no great
rush, as far as I am concerned. One or two days will make no
difference to me. Though if you don't take up my offer I shall
probably lease the show to some professional. I want to keep my name
before the public, for probably I shall wish to go back into the
business again. And besides, it is a pity to let such a good outfit as
we now have go into storage. But think it over carefully. I suppose,
though, that you will have to let the circus people know soon."
"They seem to be in a hurry--wanting me to telegraph," responded Joe.
"I'll give them an answer in a few hours. I think I'll go out and walk
around town a bit. I can think better that way."
"Go ahead, Joe, and don't let me influence you. I want to help you,
and I'll do all I can for you. You know I owe much to you. Just
remember that you have the option on my show, such as it is, and if you
don't take my offer I won't feel at all offended. Do as you think
right."
"Thank you," said Joe, feelingly.
There was not much of interest to see in the town where they had come,
expecting to give a performance, but Joe did not really care for sights
just then. He had some hard thinking to do and he wanted to do it
carefully. Hardly conscious of where he was walking, he strolled on,
and presently found himself near the outskirts of the town, in a
section that was more country than town. A little stream flowed
through a green meadow, the banks bordered by trees.
"It looks just like Bedford," mused Joe. "I'm going to take a rest
there."
He sat down in the shade of a willow tree and in an instant there came
back to him the memory of that day, some months ago, when he had come
upon his chums sitting under the same sort of tree and discussing one
of the professor's tricks which they had witnessed the night before.
"Then there was the fireworks explosion. I rescued the professor--ran
away from home--was chased by the constables--hopped into the freight
car--the deacon's house was robbed and set on fire and---- Say! what a
lot has happened in a short time," mused Joe. "And now comes this
offer from the circus. I wonder if I'd better take it or keep on with
the professor's show. Of course it would be easier to do this, as I'm
more familiar with it."
Just then there recurred to Joe something he had often heard Deacon
Blackford say.
"The easiest way isn't always the best."
The deacon was not, by any means, the kindest or wisest of men, and
certainly he had been cruel at times to Joe. But he was a sturdy
character, though often obstinate and mistaken, and he had a fund of
homely philosophy.
Joe, working one day in the deacon's feed and grain store, had proposed
doing something in a way that would, he thought, save him work.
"That's the easiest way," he had argued.
"Well, the easiest way isn't always the best," the deacon had retorted.
Joe remembered that now. It would be easier to keep on with the
professor's show, for the work was all planned out for him, and he had
but to fulfil certain engagements. Then, too, he was getting to be
expert in the tricks.
"But I want to get on in life," reasoned Joe. "Forty dollars a week is
more than I'm getting now, nor will I stick at that point in the
circus. It will be hard work, but I can stand it."
He had almost made up his mind. He decided he would go back and
acquaint the professor with his decision.
As Joe was passing a sort of hotel in a poor section of the town he
almost ran into, or, rather, was himself almost run into by a man who
emerged from the place quickly but unsteadily.
Joe was about to pass on with a muttered apology, though he did not
feel the collision to be his fault, when the man angrily demanded:
"What's the matter with you, anyhow? Why don't you look where you're
going?"
"I tried to," said Joe, mildly enough. "Hope I didn't hurt you."
"Well, you banged me hard enough!"
The man seemed a little more mollified now. Joe was at once struck by
something familiar in his voice and his looks. He took a second glance
and in an instant he recognized the man as one of the circus trapeze
performers he had seen the day he went to the big tent, or "main top,"
of Sampson Brothers' Circus to watch the professionals at their
practice. The man was one of the troupe known as the "Lascalla
Brothers," though the relationship was assumed, rather than real.
Joe gave a start of astonishment as he sensed the recognition. He was
also surprised at the great change in the man. When Joe had first seen
him, a few months before, the performer had been a straight, lithe
specimen of manhood, intent, at the moment when Joe met him, on seeing
that his trapeze ropes were securely fastened.
Now the man looked and acted like a tramp. He was dirty and ragged,
and his face bore evidences of dissipation. He leered at Joe, and then
something in our hero's face seemed to hold his attention.
"What are you looking at me that way for, young fellow?" he demanded.
"Do you know me?"
"No, not exactly," was the answer. "But I've seen you."
"Well, you're not the only one," was the retort. "A good many thousand
people have seen me on the circus trapeze. And I'd be there to-day,
doing my act, if it hadn't been for that mean Jim Tracy. He fired me,
Jim did--said he was going to get some one for the act who could stay
sober. Huh? I'm sober enough for anybody, and I took only a little
drink because I was sick. Even at that I can beat anybody on the high
bar. But he sacked me. Never mind! I'll get even with him, and if he
puts anybody in my place--well, that fellow'd better look out, that's
all!"
The man seemed turning ugly, and Joe was glad the fellow had not
connected him with the youth who had paid a brief visit to the trapeze
tent that day, months before.
"I wonder if it's to take his place that Jim Tracy wants me?" mused
Joe, as he turned aside. "I guess Jim put up with this fellow as long
as he could. Poor chap! He was a good acrobat, too--one of the best
in the country." Joe knew the Lascalla Brothers by reputation.
"If I take his place----" Joe was doing some quick thinking. "Oh,
well, I've got to take chances," he told himself. "After all, we may
never meet."
Joe had fully made up his mind. Before going back to the professor he
stopped at the telegraph office and sent this message to Jim Tracy.
"Will join circus in two days."