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JOE STRONG
THE BOY FISH
OR
_MARVELOUS DOINGS IN A BIG TANK_
By
VANCE BARNUM
Author of "Joe Strong, the Boy Wizard," "Joe Strong on the Trapeze,"
etc.
WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
RACINE, WISCONSIN
JOE STRONG, THE BOY FISH
CHAPTER I
SOMETHING WRONG
Bass drums were booming, snare drums were rattling, above them sounded
the shrill notes of the bugles. There was the rumble of big-wheeled
wagons, now and then an elephant trumpeted or a lion gave a hungry
roar. Gay banners fluttered, glistening spears flashed with points of
light, gaily attired women and men sat on the backs of swaying, ugly
camels, or galloped on mettlesome steeds. And looking at it all was a
vast throng of eager-eyed men, women and children. It was the opening
performance of the circus.
"Good crowd all right," remarked Joe Strong, as he came back to the
dressing tent from a preliminary survey of the audience. He took up
one hole in the belt of his acrobatic suit of tights.
"Full house--is there?" asked a dark-complexioned, foreign-looking man,
as he rubbed some rosin on the soles of his soft shoes, so they would
not slip when he attempted some feat high up on a trapeze bar, or let
himself down a rope head first, disdaining the use of his hands.
"I should say it is a full house!" went on Joe as he, too, west over to
the rosin box. "They'll have to do as they do in theatres, and hang out
the S.R.O. sign if it keeps on. It looks as though there would be
standing room only before long, it certainly is starting the season
good."
"I'm glad to hear it," remarked Tonzo Lascalla, one of a trio of
"brothers" with whom Joe Strong did more or less dangerous things on
the high trapeze. "If the owners take in plenty of money they may give
us more salary."
"Not much danger of that," averred Tom Jefferson, who did a "strong
man" act. "Still, we can't complain. We get pretty goad money as it
is."
There came a different note into the music. There were a few sharp
notes on a bugle, and the strong man, who had been lying down on some
boxes covered with blankets, sprang to his feet.
"Grand entry's over," he remarked. "I've got to go on!"
"And so have I!" added a clown, who had been busily engaged in painting
one half of his face white and the other black. "Here we are again
gentlemen!" and he turned two or three somersaults on the grass of the
dressing, tent. "Whoop-la-la!" and out he ran to make his appearance in
the ring. A gale of laughter followed, testifying to the effects of his
antics.
"All ready, Joe?" asked Sid Lascalla, the other member of the acrobatic
trio.
"Why, that isn't our call, is it?" asked Joe, who was relacing one of
his shoes.
"No, but it will come in a few minutes. Are you going to try the long
swing and double catch this afternoon?"
"I think we might as well, don't you? We've had enough practice at it,
even though this is the first show of the season. What do you say,
Tonzo?"
"Oh, I'm ready for it."
"So am I, then," added Sid. "Only let's be sure the life net is all
right. The ring-attendants are apt to be a bit careless at first."
"I'll look after it," promised Joe.
The lacing of his shoes seemed to give the young trapeze performer some
little concern. He did not want them too tight, and, on the other hand,
they must not be loose enough to give any play to the ankles. For in a
great measure the life of the young man who was soon to thrill the big
audience with his daring depended on the firmness of his stand.
A fine figure of youthfulness was Joe Strong as he stood in his closely
fitting red tights, tall and straight as an Indian arrow, with not an
ounce of superfluous flesh, and yet not over-muscled. But the muscles
he had were powerful. One could see his biceps ripple under his tights
as he bent his arm, and when he straightened up there were bunches back
of his shoulders that told of power there. His legs, too, on the
strength of which he depended for many tricks, were symmetrical with
muscles, and his hands and wrists showed force.
The young acrobat finally seemed to be satisfied with his shoes, and
nodded his readiness to his two partners. In the first part of the
program the three worked together as the "Lascalla Brothers," though
there was no real relationship. But the name showed well on the bills,
and, as a matter of fact, the three performers looked sufficiently
alike.
When his part with the trio was over Joe Strong was in an act by
himself, for he had made quite a name as a daring performer. He
strolled over toward the entrance to the main tent--the entrance used
by the performers as they emerged from the dressing tents. A girl
riding a beautiful horse galloped out from the ring as Joe reached the
place.
"How goes it, Helen?" asked Joe, as the rider drew her horse to one
side. The animal rubbed his nose against Joe's hand. "No, I haven't any
sugar now, Rosebud," said Joe with a smile. "There aren't any pockets
in this suit," he went on with a laugh.
"I'll give him some as soon as I get off," promised Helen Morton, or
"Mademoiselle Mortonti" as she was called on the circus bills.
"How did everything go?" asked her companion.
"Fine, Joe. Rosebud never behaved better, and the crowd was certainly
generous in the way of applause."
"Glad to know it. I heard some of it. Pretty good opening then?"
"I call it so, yes."
Again the trumpet blared in a new note, and there was a scurrying on
the part of some performers to leave the rings and raised platforms,
while others came bustling from the dressing tent to take their places
in providing entertainment for the circus throng.
"See you later!" called Joe as he hurried back to join the two Lascalla
Brothers, that they might run into the ring together and stand posed
for a moment, their arms on one another's shoulders, before they began
their act.
"All right," answered Helen, as she rode away on her fine trick horse,
Rosebud; for Helen was a fancy rider, and, in addition, had taught the
animal to do many difficult tricks.
It was the first performance of the spring season for the Sampson
Brothers' Circus. The winter had been spent in Bridgeport, as far as
the animals were concerned, the quarters of many out-door shows being
there. The performers had done as they pleased for the idle months when
tent shows are out of the question. Some had filled engagements in
theatres, while others had gone into retirement, some to evolve new
exploits, thrilling acts and tricks.
Joe Strong had spent part of his winter doing gymnasium work. He had
later filled in a few weeks on a theatrical circuit doing feats of
magic. At this he was an expert, and in this line of work he had been
engaged before joining the circus.
Helen Morton had been in the South, her horse with her, and she had
returned a few weeks previously, joining the circus in Bridgeport to
get in some needed practice before starting out on the road. Now the
show was in full swing. It was a pleasant day, and a record-breaking
throng had crowded into the tents. What more could circus folk ask?
"Hello, Ben!" called Joe, as he hurried back to join his two partners.
"All ready for your 'death-defying dive?'"
"Yes, as ready as I'll ever be, I guess," was the somewhat despondent
answer of a frail-looking youth, who was attired in a shimmering green
suit made to resemble fish scales.
"Why, what's the matter, Ben Turton?" asked Joe, as he placed his hand
on the shoulder of the "human fish," as Ben was known; for he did a
diving act in a large glass tank filled with water, staying under about
three minutes without breathing, and performing some tricks in the
limpid depths.
"Oh, I don't know, Joe, what the matter is," Ben said. "I guess I'm
just tired."
"What! After your winter's rest?"
"I didn't have much rest. I played two circuits."
"Oh, that's right, so you did. I'd forgotten. But is it the same old
trouble you complained of last season?"
"Yes, my head--back here," and Ben put his hand to the base of his
head. "But don't say anything about it. Maybe it will wear off when I
get to working. I've got to go on with the act, anyhow."
"Say, it's too bad, Ben. Maybe if you were to speak to Jim Tracy----"
"No. I won't do that, Joe. Never mind about me. There's your call."
"So it is. I'll see you again. Come on, Sid--Tonzo!"
Joe clasped hands with his two fellow trapezists, and together they ran
lightly out to the ring. Benny Turton followed more slowly. He was to
begin his act in a few minutes. The big glass tank, filled with water,
was waiting for him out on a raised platform.
"I don't know what's the matter with me," he murmured. "I feel just as
if something were going to happen. Oh, pshaw! I mustn't be such a kid.
It'll be all right. I've gone under hundreds of times before."
He stood looking out into the main tent. He saw Joe Strong and the
other two Lascallas on the trapezes high up above the life net. This
the trapeze performers had inspected with unusual care, for it was the
opening act of the season and, as Sid had said, some of the attendants
who put it up might have been careless, particularly as a lot of new
men were always hired at the beginning of the season.
After some rather usual and not very difficult acts, to get themselves
warmed up, the Lascallas prepared for one of their "thrillers."
Joe climbed to a small platform, fixed high up on one of the poles at
one side of the tent. Sid Lascalla occupied a similar position on the
other side. Between them swung Tonzo on a trapeze.
"All ready!" cried Joe.
"Ready!" answered Sid.
Together they swung down from their platforms, each one grasping a
trapeze bar. Tonzo swung first toward Sid who, at a signal, let go, and
turning over and over in the air reached out his hands at the proper
moment and grasped those of Tonzo. The two, clinging together, hung
there a moment, swinging to and fro in a long arc.
Then, with a yell to show he was coming, Joe Strong let go of his
trapeze, and launched himself toward the other two. He whirled himself
about in a dizzying succession of somersaults, and then, straightening
out with a jerk, he grasped the dangling legs of Sid, and hung there by
his hands, the two lower acrobats being supported by Tonzo, who clung
from his trapeze by his knees.
There was a burst of applause at this clever and rather dangerous
trick. It was dangerous even with the life-net below them, for had the
men fallen together, in a heap, they would have been hurt in spite of
the net.
But the trick was over successfully. First Joe dropped into the net,
then Sid and finally Tonzo, each one somersaulting down.
As Joe jumped out of the net to get ready for his next act, he saw
Benny Turton leap off his platform to dive into the tank of water. It
was the beginning of the acts of the "human fish."
"He seems to be all right," thought Joe. "I guess he was just nervous
about the first day."
He watched the youth, and saw him make a clean dive into the water.
Then there should have followed on Benny's part some queer little
tricks designed to bring forth a laugh.
But as Joe watched through the glass sides of the tank, he saw a look
of agony come over Ben's face. The boy seemed doubled up in a cramp,
and his hand went to the back of his head.
"There's something wrong!" thought Joe in a flash. "Benny's in bad!
I've got to help him!"
Joe knew the danger of creating a panic in a crowd. Whatever was done
must be done quietly so as not to alarm the audience. Joe glanced
about. Near him was Bill Watson, a veteran clown, pretending to play a
game of ball all by himself.
Joe ran over to Bill and whispered in his ear:
"Quick, Bill! Benny's got a cramp in the tank! We've got to get him out
in a hurry. Come on with me!"