JOE MAKES A HIT
"Those fellows are always making trouble," murmured the ring-master, as
he walked with Joe toward a tent where the young performer could leave
his valise.
"What fellows are they?" the lad asked, but he felt that he knew what
the answer was going to be.
"The Lascalla Brothers," replied Jim. "There were two brothers in the
business, Sid and Tonzo Lascalla. They used to be together and have a
wonderful act. But Sid died, and Tonzo got a fellow-countryman to take
his place, using the same name. They were good, too. Then about four
years ago they added a third man. Why they ever took up with Sim
Dobley I can't imagine, but they did.
"Whatever else I'll say about Sim, I'll give him credit for being a
wonder on a trapeze--that is when he was sober. When he got
intoxicated, or partly so, he'd take risks that would make your hair
stand up on end. That's why I had to get rid of him. First I knew,
he'd have had an accident and he'd be suing the circus. So I let him
go. Sim went under the name Rafello Lascalla, and became one of the
brothers.
"For a while the three of them worked well together. And it's queer,
as I say, how Sid and Tonzo took to Jim. But they did. You'd think he
was a regular brother. In fact all three of 'em seemed to be real
blood brothers. Sid and Tonzo are Spaniards, but Sim is a plain
Yankee. He used to say he learned to do trapeze tricks in his father's
barn."
"That's where I practised," said Joe.
"Well, it's as good a place as any, I reckon. Anyhow, I had to get rid
of Sim, and now Tonzo comes and asks me to put him back. He says Sim
is behaving himself, and will keep straight. He's somewhere on the
grounds now, Tonzo told me. But I don't want anything to do with him.
I'll stand a whole lot from a man, but when I reach the limit I'm
through for good. That's what I am with Sim Dobley, otherwise known as
Rafello Lascalla. You're to take his place, Joe."
"I am!"
There was no mistaking the surprise in the youth's voice.
"Why, what's the matter? Don't you want to?" asked Jim, in some
astonishment.
"Yes, of course. I'll do anything in the show along the line of
trapeze work you want me to. But--well, maybe I'd better tell you all
about it."
Then Joe related his encounter with the discharged circus employee.
"Hum," mused Jim, when Joe finished. "So that's how the wind sets, is
it? He's hanging around here now trying to find out who is going to
take his place."
"And when he finds that I have," suggested Joe hesitatingly, "he may
cause trouble."
Jim Tracy started.
"I didn't think of that!" he said slowly. "You say he threatened you?"
"Well, not exactly me, for he didn't know who I was," replied Joe.
"But he said he'd make it decidedly hot for you, and for the man who
took his place."
Jim Tracy snapped his fingers.
"That's how much I care for Sim Dobley," he said. "I'm not afraid of
him. He talks big, but he acts small. I'm not in the least worried,
and if you are----"
"Not for a minute!" exclaimed Joe quickly. "I guess I can look after
myself!"
"Good!" exclaimed Jim. "That's the way I like to hear you talk. And
don't you let Sim Dobley, or either of the Lascalla Brothers, bluff
you. I'm running this show, not them! If they make any trouble you
come to me."
"I guess I can fight my own battles," observed Joe calmly.
"Good!" said the ring-master again. "I guess you'll do. This is your
dressing room," he went on. "Just leave your grip here, and it will be
safe. You won't have to do anything to-night but look on. I'll get
you a pair of tights by to-morrow and you can go on. Practise up in
the morning, and work up a new act with Sid and Tonzo if you like.
I'll introduce you to them at supper."
"Do you think they'll perform with me?" Joe wanted to know.
"They'll have to!" exclaimed the ring-master with energy. "This is my
circus, not theirs. They'll do as I say, and if there is any funny
business---- Well, there just won't be," he added significantly.
"Do Tonzo and Sid want Sim to come back and act with them?" asked Joe,
as he deposited his valise in a corner of a dressing room that was made
by canvas curtains partitioning off a part of a large tent.
"That's what they say. Tonzo told me that Sim would behave himself.
But I'm through with Sim, and he might as well understand that first as
last. You're going to take his place. Now I'll have to leave you.
You'll put up at the hotel with some of the performers. Here's your
slip that you can show to the clerk. I'll see you in the morning, if
not before, and make arrangements for your act. To-night you just look
on. Now I've got to go."
Joe looked about the dressing room. It was evidently shared with
others, for there were suits of men's tights scattered around, as well
as other belongings. Joe left his valise and went outside. He wanted
to see all he could--to get familiar with the life of a circus.
It cannot be said that Joe was exactly easy in his mind. He would much
rather have joined the circus without having supplanted a performer of
so vindictive a character as Sim Dobley. But, as it had to be, the lad
decided to make the best of it.
"I'll be on the watch for trouble," he murmured as he went out of the
dressing tent.
A busy scene was being enacted on the circus lots. In fact, many
scenes. It was feeding time for some of the animals and for most of
the performers and helpers. The latter would dine in one of the big
tents, under which long tables were already set. And from the distance
Joe could catch an odor of the cooking.
"My, but that smells good!" he told himself. He was hungry.
The Sampson Brothers' Show was a fair-sized one. It used a number of
railroad cars to transport the wagons, cages and performers from place
to place. On the road, of course, the performers and helpers slept in
the circus sleeping cars. But when the show remained more than one
night in a place some of the performers were occasionally allowed to
sleep at the local hotels, getting their meals on the circus grounds,
for the cooking for and feeding of a big show is down to an exact
science.
As Joe wandered forth he heard a voice calling to him:
"Well, where in the world did you come from?"
"Oh, hello!" cried our hero, as, turning, he saw Benny Turton, the
"human fish," walking toward him.
"I'm glad to see you again!" went on Benny, as he shook hands with Joe.
"And I'm glad to see you."
"What are you doing here?" the "human fish" asked.
"Oh, I'm part of the show now," replied Joe, a bit proudly.
"Get out! Are you, really?"
"I sure am!" And Joe told the circumstances.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," said Ben. "Real glad!"
"How's your act going?" asked Joe.
The "human fish" paused a moment before answering.
"Oh, I suppose it goes as well as ever," he said slowly. "Only I----
Oh, what's the use of telling my troubles?" he asked, with a smile. "I
reckon you have some of your own."
"Not very big ones," confessed Joe. "But is anything the matter?"
"No, oh, no. Never mind me; tell me about yourself."
Joe told something of his experiences since last seeing Ben, and, as he
talked, he looked at the youth who performed such thrilling feats under
water in the big tank. Joe thought Benny looked paler and thinner than
before.
"I guess the water work isn't any too healthy for him," mused Joe. "It
must be hard to be under that pressure so long. I feel sorry for him."
"What are you two talking about--going to get up a new act that will
make us all take back seats?" asked a merry voice. Joe recognized it
at once, and, with a glad smile, he turned to see Helen Morton coming
toward him.
"I thought I knew you, even from your back," she told Joe, as she shook
hands with him.
"Does Rosebud want any sugar?" he asked, smiling.
"No, thank you! He's had his share to-day. But it was good of you to
remember. I must introduce you to my horse."
"I shall be happy to meet him," returned Joe, with his best "stage bow."
Helen laughed merrily, as she walked across the grounds with Joe and
Benny.
"It's almost supper time," she said, "and I'm starved. Can't we all
eat together?"
"I don't see why not," Ben answered, and they were soon at a table
where many other performers sat, all, seemingly, talking at once. Joe
was very much interested.
He was more than interested in two dark-complexioned men who regarded
him curiously. One was the person who had spoken to Jim Tracy. The
other Joe had not seen before.
"They're the Lascalla Brothers," Ben informed him. "That is, there are
two of them. The third----"
"I'm to be the third," Joe broke in.
"You are?" asked Ben, and he regarded his friend curiously. "Well,
look out for yourself; that's all I've got to say."
"Why has he to look out for himself?" inquired Helen, who had caught
the words. "Are you going to eat all there is on the table, Ben, so
there won't be any for Mr. Strong? Is that why he must look out?"
"No, not that," Ben answered. "It--it was something else."
"Oh, secrets!" and Helen pretended to be offended.
"It wasn't anything," Joe assured her. And he tried to forget the
warning Ben had so kindly given him.
Joe attended the performance that night as a sort of privileged
character. He went behind the scenes, and also sat in the tent. He
was most interested in the feats of the two Lascalla Brothers, and he
decided that, with a little practice, he could do most of the feats
they presented.
That night, at the hotel, Joe was introduced to Sid and Tonzo. They
bowed and shook hands, and, as far as Joe could see, they did not
resent his joining their troupe. They seemed pleasant, and Joe felt
that perhaps the difficulties had been exaggerated. Nothing was said
of Sim Dobley, and though Joe had been on the watch for the deposed
performer that afternoon and evening, he had not seen him.
"You will, perhaps, like to practise with us?" suggested Tonzo, after a
while.
"I think it would be wise," agreed Joe.
"Very well, then. We will meet you at the tent in the morning."
Bright and early Joe was on hand. Jim Tracy found him a pair of pink
tights that would do very well for a time, and ordered him a new,
regular suit.
At the request of Tonzo Lascalla, Joe went through a number of tricks,
improvising them as he progressed. Next the two Spaniards did their
act, and showed Joe what he was to do, as well as when to do it, so as
to make it all harmonize.
Then hard practice began, and was kept up until the time for the
afternoon show. Joe did not feel at all nervous as he prepared for his
entrance. His work on the stage with Professor Rosello stood him in
good stead.
In another moment he was swinging aloft with his two fellow-performers,
in "death-defying dives," and other alliterative acts set down on the
show bills.
"Can you catch me if I jump from the high-swinging trapeze, and vault
toward you, somersaulting?" Joe asked Tonzo, during a pause in their
act.
"Of a certainty, yes, I can catch you. But can you jump it?"
"Sure!" declared Joe. "I've done it before."
"It is a big jump, Mr. Strong," Tonzo warned him. "Even your
predecessor would have hesitated."
"I'll take the chance," Joe said. "Now this is the way I'll do it.
I'll get a good momentum, swinging back and forth. You stand upon the
high platform, holding your trapeze and waiting. When I give the word
and start on my final swing, you jump off, hang by your knees, hands
down. I'll leap toward you, turn over three times, and grab your
hands. Do you get me?"
"Of a certainty, yes. But it is not an easy trick."
"I know it--that's why I'm going to do it. Do you get me?"
"If he doesn't 'get you,' as you call it, Mr. Strong," put in Sid, "you
will have a bad fall. Of course there is the life net, but if you do
not land right----"
"Oh, I'll land all right," said Joe, though not boastingly.
The time for the new trick came. Joe climbed up to a little platform
near the top of the tent and swung off, swaying to and fro on a long
trapeze. On the other side of the tent Tonzo took his place on a
similar platform, fastened to a pole. He was waiting for Joe to give
the word.
To and fro, in longer and longer arcs, Joe swung. He hung by his
hands. Carefully his eye gauged the distance he must hurl himself
across. Finally he had momentum enough.
"Come on!" he cried to Tonzo.
The latter leaped out on his trapeze, swinging by his knees. Right
toward Joe he swung.
"Here I come!" Joe shouted, amid breathless silence among the
spectators below him. They realized that something unusual was going
on.
"Go!" shouted Sid, who was waiting down on the ground for the
conclusion of the trick.
Joe let go. He felt himself hurling through the air. Quickly he
doubled himself in a ball, and turned the somersaults. Then he
straightened out, dropped a few feet, and his hands squarely met those
of Tonzo. The latter clasped Joe's in a firm grip, and, holding him,
swung to and fro on the long trapeze.
A roar of applause broke out at Joe's daring feat. He had made a
hit--a big hit, for the applause kept up after he had dropped to the
life net. He stood beside Tonzo and Sid, all three bowing and smiling.