THE NEW MACHINE
Amid a riot of frightened cries--hoarse ones from the men and shrill
screams from the women in the audience--Joe Strong fell into the net.
He fell straight and true, as he had fallen in the circus many times,
and he knew that he was safe--if only the motor-cycle would land far
enough away.
But that was just what did not happen, and as Joe settled back into
the net again after a rebound, he felt a sharp pain in one leg and a
blow on his head that caused everything to become black before him, and
then with a roaring in his ears that sounded like a cataract he lost
consciousness.
Joe had to rely on what his helpers and others told him as to the
events that followed. For when he recovered his senses he was lying on
a clean, white bed in what he realized must be a hospital.
"This is my second time in the 'sick-bay,'" mused Joe, before he
ventured to address the white-capped nurse whom he saw moving silently
about the room. "Three times and out, they say. I've still got another
chance left," he reflected grimly. Then he spoke.
"Well, it happened, didn't it?" he asked the nurse. She had her back to
him, arranging some bottles on a white enameled and glass-topped table,
and she turned around quickly.
"Oh, you must be----"
"Quiet! I know what you're going to say," interrupted Joe, with a
smile. "But I don't feel half bad, except for a headache, and I want to
know what happened."
"I--I think I'll have to wait until the doctor sees you," said the
nurse hesitatingly. "He said you must be kept quiet if you recovered
consciousness."
"That's all right," Joe said. "I'll be quiet if you tell me just what
happened. The net didn't break, did it?"
"No, from what they tell me, you were struck by the machine you were
riding. It fell on top of you. Now please be quiet, and take this."
She came toward Joe with a glass of dark-colored liquid, which did not
smell very appetizing. But he drank it, made a wry face and spoke again.
"One more question, and I'll go to sleep like a good boy, for I do feel
sleepy. There was no one else hurt, was there? No panic or anything
like that?"
"No, not that I heard of. You were the only one hurt, and I hope it
isn't bad."
"I've felt worse," Joe said, "and at the same time I've felt a whole
lot better. Now I'll be quiet."
He tried to turn over, but the movement sent such a sharp pain to his
head that he desisted and, closing his eyes, he dozed off. The doctor
was in the room when he awoke again, and it must have been some time
later, for the lights were turned on, though shaded to keep the light
out of Joe's eyes.
The physician noted a movement on the part of his patient and at once
came over to the bed. He felt Joe's pulse, looked at the temperature
chart which the nurse held out to him, and nodded as if in a satisfied
way.
"Doing pretty well," he said. "I guess it isn't a fracture after all."
"What fractured?" Joe asked.
"Your skull. You took a pretty hard knock, but it was the leather
helmet that saved you."
"Good old helmet," murmured Joe. "Did my machine break?"
"I don't know about that. But it nearly broke you. You'll do that trick
on the high wire once too often, Mr. Strong, I'm thinking."
"Oh, I'm not worrying about that," Joe said. "But I can't see what made
the wheel leave the wire, even though the bird did startle me. I'll
have to look at the rims."
"You ought to have a lighter machine if you're going to keep on with
the trick," said the doctor. "Then if it falls on you again the results
may not be so bad."
"I've been thinking of getting a new machine," Joe said, "and I guess
it's about time I did."
"Now quiet down," advised the doctor. "Rest and quiet are about all you
need."
"My leg feels as though it needed something," Joe said. "I hope it
isn't broken."
"Just a bad bruise," the doctor informed him. "You'll be able to get
around in a few days, though you may limp."
"It means some canceled engagements, even at the best," said the
motorist. "Well, it can't be helped, and I guess I'm lucky to get off
as easily as I did."
"Indeed you are!" the doctor exclaimed. "I understand you did your
first riding at our fair without a life-net."
"It hadn't come and I didn't want to disappoint the crowd," Joe
answered.
"Well, it's a good thing you had it to-day," went on the medical man.
Joe nodded. No need to tell him that. And he made up his mind never
again to ride without a net, no matter what the emergency. For this
accident had showed him that the grooved wheels of the motor-cycle
were not always so sure of clinging to the wire as Joe had supposed
they would be. But he was certain the front one must have developed a
defect. He would examine it as soon as he could.
More medicine was given the patient, and again he fell into a doze.
Whether he awoke again during the night he did not remember, but he
felt much refreshed when he saw the sun streaming in his window, and
the white-capped nurse--a different one this time--brought him his
breakfast on a tray.
"Is that all I get?" asked Joe, with a smile, as he noted the rather
small allowance.
"That's all we allow patients who have been injured as you were," she
said, and she seemed rather afraid Joe would make a scene and perhaps
demand more.
"Oh, I'm not blaming you," said Joe, with a smile, rightly guessing
that the nurse was a new one, rather unused to the vagaries of her
patients.
"I'll ask the doctor if you can have more," she said.
"No, please don't bother. I was only joking. This will do very well,"
and he proceeded to eat.
Joe was much better that day, except for a very painful leg, and he was
allowed to see Ryan and Jeroleman, who, it seemed, had made several
visits to the hospital to inquire after "the young boss."
The two helpers explained to Joe that they had rushed forward on seeing
him fall, in the hope of deflecting the motor-cycle out of its course.
But they had been unable to do so, and the heavy machine had struck
Joe.
"Which has taught me a lesson," he said; and he spoke of his intention
of getting a lighter one, made to order purposely for his act.
"And a good idea, too," said Ryan.
The men told Joe they had taken down the apparatus and had it packed
for transportation to the next town where he was to show at a fair.
Joe's money was ready for him, from the treasury of the fair which had
just closed, so Jeroleman said.
"I'll have to lay over here a week, I'm afraid," decided the performer.
"I won't dare take any chances with this leg. It might make me unsteady
on the high wire. But I'll write some letters, and see if I can't get
the motor-cycle firm started on making my new machine."
"I could go to the factory and explain just what you want," said Ryan.
"I might hurry it along, too."
"That would be a good idea," Joe said. "I guess I'll send you on, and
Jeroleman can go to the Ryetown fair people and explain why I can't
fill my engagement, though I may be able to ride the last day or two."
"Better not take any chances," advised Jeroleman, and Joe decided this
was good advice. So he canceled his engagements for the following week.
Joe sent Ryan to the factory where his motor-cycle had been made, with
instructions to have a specially light machine manufactured just for
high-wire work. Ryan had hardly arrived before he telegraphed back
that work on the new machine would be rushed, and that Joe could have
it in about a week.
Afterward Joe learned that the firm carried in stock several grades
and weights of gasoline motors, and one of the lightest of these could
be built into one of their heavier bicycles, thus making a motor-cycle
that would answer admirably for high-wire work, but which would not
stand driving over rough roads.
"But I'll use my old machine for road work," Joe decided. "And I won't
be in so much danger in case of a fall."
He progressed rapidly at the hospital, and was soon able to go about,
though he limped and had to use a cane. His first act after he left
the hospital was to examine the motor-cycle, and his suspicions were
confirmed when he found a split in the metal rim. He decided that he
must have hit a stone when riding it on the earthen approach, and
was more than pleased that he could, in the future, eliminate such
accidents by having a machine just for wire-work.
"I'll have to have the approach more carefully looked over, too,"
decided Joe. "For my new machine won't be as strong as this one."
It was the split in the rim that had caused the grooved wheel to leave
the wire, though Joe's start when the bird flew so close to him had
been the initial cause of the accident.
However, he was well out of it, as it was, and would soon be able to
resume his engagements. There was plenty of work ahead for him, since
his fame was spreading, and the ability of the high-wire act to draw
crowds to fairs and expositions was just what the managers of such
outdoor exhibitions wanted. Joe could name his own price, and his
figures were not low, for he had heavy expenses, and he wanted to make
all the money he could while he had the opportunity.
Joe's natural good health, aided by the skillful treatment of the
hospital doctor, put him well on the road to recovery, and at the end
of the week he was able to travel. He and his men went on to the place
where they had an engagement at the fair, and Joe stopped off at the
motor-cycle factory to see about his new machine.
It was almost finished, and Joe saw that it was a great improvement
over his regular road motor-cycle for his high-wire act. The new
motor-cycle was nickel-plated, and Joe knew that would show off well
with his white suit.
"The act will be much dressier," he reflected. "And I have a plan to
make it more effective still, if I can get some night engagements."