ALMOST CAUGHT
“Well, now, Miss Helen, what’s the trouble?” asked the ring-master,
while Joe continued to gaze at the “vision.”
“Oh, I can’t get any lump sugar for Rosebud, and you know he won’t eat
the other kind.” Her lips pouted prettily, and then she smiled—Joe
declared at him, though it may have been at both of them.
“No lump sugar, eh? Well, that sure _is_ a calamity!” laughed Jim Tracy.
“I’ll have to see to that. Rosebud must have his sugar.”
“If he doesn’t, you know he won’t do his tricks well,” went on the girl,
now smiling broadly. “Please get some for me, Jim.”
“I sure will, if I have to rob the breakfast table! I’ll be back in a
minute,” he added to Joe. “You might wait here.”
Joe was perfectly willing to wait. He hoped the “vision” would return.
“Is he a new performer?” asked the girl, nodding and smiling at Joe, as
she walked off with the ring-master.
“Well, no, not exactly, Miss Helen. I’ve made him an offer—I just had
to, after I saw him doing some stunts on a trapeze—but he seems to think
he likes magic better.”
“Then he doesn’t like our circus?” The girl stopped, and once more she
pouted prettily.
“Oh, it isn’t that, I assure you!” exclaimed Joe quickly. “But you see I
am under some obligations to Professor Rosello, and I don’t want to
leave him in the middle of the season.”
“That’s right,” chimed in Jim. “It’s best to play fair. But come along,
Miss Helen, and I’ll see if I can rustle some sugar for Rosebud.”
“Good-bye!” she called to Joe. “But I should think you’d like a circus
better than doing those queer tricks. Though they _are_ nice,” she
added, with a little nod.
The sun seemed to have gone under a cloud to Joe as she went out of the
tent. Brightness had vanished.
“I—I almost wish I had taken his offer,” mused the lad. “I wonder——” he
paused as he remembered the flash of her brown eyes and her smile. “No,
I’d better stick to the professor. Maybe—later——Oh, well, I’ll have to
think about it.”
He walked about, looking at the preparations still going on to get the
main tent in readiness for the show. He saw Jim coming back, alone.
“Did you get the sugar?” he asked the ring-master.
“Yes. Rosebud won’t starve to-day.”
“Who’s Rosebud?”
“Her trick horse, and a dandy, too.” Then, though Joe did not ask, Jim
went on. “She’s one of our biggest drawing cards. Her name is Helen
Morton, but she’s billed as Mademoiselle Mortonti. It looks better on
paper.”
“What does she do?” Joe found himself asking.
“Fancy riding, and on a trick horse. She makes Rosebud do all sorts of
tricks—amuses the young folks, and some of the old ones too. She makes a
great pet of her horse and gives him lump sugar as a reward. I generally
have a supply on hand for her, but it must have got side-tracked on
account of the mix-up. However, I found some for her.
“She’s one of the finest little girls in the world,” went on the
ring-master earnestly. “We all love her. She’s an orphan, but she
doesn’t lack friends. Some folks sort of look down on circus
performers,” went on Jim, with a flash of his eyes, “but I want to tell
you, right now, that——”
“You don’t need to tell _me_ anything,” said Joe in a low voice. “My
mother was a circus performer. Madame Hortense was the name she rode
under.”
Jim stared at Joe with open mouth.
“Your mother in the profesh?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, I can’t say I ever heard of her—but that’s not strange,” said the
ring-master slowly. “I haven’t been in the business all my life. But if
your mother was a circus rider then you know. Shake!”
He held out a powerful hand. Joe gripped it none the less powerfully.
“Say, you’ve got some hold!” exclaimed the ring-master with admiration
in his voice. “Better think my offer over.”
“I’d like to,” answered Joe, “but I’d better stick where I am for the
present.”
“Well, you know best. But if you ever decide to join—you can always find
our advance route bookings in one of the theatrical papers. Drop me a
line.”
Joe promised to do so, and went outside, perhaps hoping for a sight of
Miss Morton. But he did not see her. He did, however, see much that
interested him in the way of circus life, and he understood something of
the fascination it had for his mother, especially as she was such an
accomplished horsewoman; and feats of horsemanship are nowhere better
appreciated than in a circus.
“Well, did you see all you wanted?” asked Benny Turton, as Joe rejoined
him.
“Yes, I saw lots. Even got an offer to go with the show.”
“You didn’t!”
“Yes I did,” and Joe narrated his experience.
“Say, I think maybe you’d make out good in a circus,” said Benny,
holding up his scaly suit for a close examination. He wanted no more
leaks in it.
“No, I’ll stick to magic for a while yet,” Joe answered. “But I think
you’ll be busy soon, getting ready for the performance, so I’ll leave
you. Remember, I’m coming to see you do your stunt.”
“I hope you do.”
As Professor Rosello was not going to give a show that evening, Joe was
free. He went to the afternoon and evening circus performances, and he
tried to tell himself that it was to watch the “human fish” and some
other special acts. But though Benny’s act was interesting and
startling, Joe paid more attention to the riding of Miss Helen Morton
and the tricks of her horse, Rosebud, than he did to Benny. And the
performance of Mademoiselle Mortonti was well worth watching. It was a
beautiful exhibition of horsemanship on the part of a refined young
girl, and it brought forth round after round of applause, in which Joe
joined enthusiastically.
The circus moved out of town after the final performance, and Joe and
the professor gave their show.
They did not draw as large crowds as they would have done had not the
counter attraction of the circus operated against them, but they did
fairly well.
Joe introduced a new trick, which made an instant hit. It was very
simple, too.
When his turn came to occupy the stage he advanced with a candle and a
box of matches in his hand.
“Fire is a mysterious element,” he stated. “It is a good servant but a
bad master. Well controlled, fire and light are very useful. Now I have
here a candle which is exceptionally well educated. That is it can be
lighted, extinguished and lighted again by the mere movement of my wand.
“Now I don’t say every one can do this, for you have not all of you
magic wands. But, lest some of you think the trick is easy, I am going
to ask one of you to come up here and light this candle. Will you come?”
and he indicated a young man in a front seat. After some hesitation the
youth ascended the stage.
“Do you know which end of a match to light?” asked Joe. The youth
grinningly admitted that he did. Joe then handed him a candle and bade
him light it. When it was aglow Joe handed the youth the wand, and told
him to point it at the candle.
“Just point it at the flame, and order it to go out—vamoose!” Joe
ordered. The youth tried this, but the candle still burned on. “I guess
you’ll have to speak louder,” observed Joe with a smile, “the candle may
be deaf.”
Accordingly the youth shouted, but still the candle burned.
“Louder!” urged Joe, and the youth fairly yelled. But still the candle
burned brightly. “You see not every one has the magic power,” stated the
young performer. “Now let me show you how it is done.”
“Just help this young man down the steps,” Joe directed his assistant,
the boy previously referred to. “I am afraid he may have strained
himself shouting.”
There was a laugh at this, and the audience watched Joe’s helper
solicitously assisting the volunteer down the steps.
While this was going on Joe had taken the lighted candle and had walked
back with it to one of his tables, on which he placed it.
“Now I will show you how it is done,” he said. “Ah, the wind has blown
out the candle, but as the wind can not light it again I will first do
so with a match, and we will then call on the forces of magic to do the
rest.”
Joe lighted the candle, and then, standing some little distance from the
table on which the glowing taper stood, he pointed his wand at it, and
cried:
“Out, candle!”
Immediately the candle was extinguished.
“No, I didn’t blow it out.” Joe said, pretending that some one in the
audience had said that. “To prove it I will, without moving, light it
from where I stand.” Then he exclaimed:
“Candle, light!”
At once the candle leaped into a glow. There were surprised exclamations
at this, and Joe repeated the trick several times.
“It is very easy when you know how,” he said, “and to prove there is no
trick about it I will pass the candle down to you for examination.” Joe
tossed a candle among the audience. Several examined it. There was no
doubt that it was just an ordinary candle.
“How did he do it?” every one asked.
The secret lay in a trick candle. The first one Joe lighted for the
young man was an ordinary taper. Once blown out it could not be lighted
except with a match.
But when Joe had his helper assist the young man down off the stage, the
young magician took advantage of the fun and confusion over this to
substitute on his table a trick candle for the ordinary one.
This trick candle consisted of a metal tube, painted white, and made to
look exactly like a candle, with a metal point at the top to represent a
wick. Inside the hollow metal tube was a small wax taper, a miniature
candle, and it was held up near the top by an inside, spiral spring. The
spring was strong enough to carry up the taper as fast as it burned, but
could be pulled down by a black silk thread, coming out at the bottom of
the candle stick, and extending across the stage through the draperies,
where it was held by Professor Rosello, who helped Joe in this illusion.
Joe quickly substituted the trick candle for the real one and lighted
it, pretending that the wind had blown that one out as he walked to the
table.
With the trick candle aglow, Joe only had to take his position where he
pleased, and order the candle to go out. At once Professor Rosello,
behind the scenes, pulled the black thread, invisible to the audience.
The taper, still lighted, was pulled down inside the hollow metal candle
stick, and, of course, it seemed just as if it went out. It was still
burning, however, some small air holes on the back of the tube, where
they could not be seen, providing the oxygen.
When Joe, pointing the other end of his wand at the candle, ordered it
to light, Professor Rosello released the string, and the concealed
spring raised the still lighted taper into view, so that the candle
appeared to light itself in a mysterious manner.
Thus Joe did the trick, which was received very well, causing quite a
sensation. Professor Rosello complimented him on its success.
It was toward the close of the performance. Joe was about to step down
off the stage to pass through the audience with a vase for examination,
when he looked to the back of the hall, and there, to his great
surprise, he saw the vindictive face of his foster-father, Deacon
Blackford. Joe gasped, and quickly turned back. Under pretense of
arranging the trick with the professor, Joe whispered:
“My foster-father is out in the audience. He must have been following me
and he has come here to arrest me. He thinks I stole that money, but I
didn’t. I don’t want to be falsely arrested. What shall I do?”
The professor thought quickly.
“It was a narrow escape,” he said. “He almost caught you. He is probably
waiting for you to come down in the crowd so he can grab you. Quick now.
Go behind the scenes. I’ll hold the audience with some patter. Then you
tell the boy to come out and help me with this trick. He can do it as
well as you, as it is very simple. I’ll finish the rest of the show
alone.”
“But what shall I do?” asked Joe.
“Slip out by the stage door, go to the hotel, get your things and take
the first train for Seneca. We show there next. I’ll come on as soon as
I can pack up after the show. We’ll fool the deacon. There is no need of
being arrested if you are innocent, and it is evident he came here to
take you into custody. It’s a good thing you saw him in time.”
Joe hurried back of the scenes, while Professor Rosello held the
attention of the audience, including that of Deacon Blackford.