THE NEW WINGS
For a moment Joe hardly knew what to think. He stared after Helen,
who walked on with her head held high in the air. She did not once
turn around, as Joe half-hoped she would do, so he knew what she had
said she had really meant. For some reason or other she was angry
with him.
“But what in the world for, I can’t understand,” he mused, as he
walked slowly away. “Just because I didn’t take her for a ride
couldn’t have made all that difference. She doesn’t care much for the
motor-cycle anyhow. I’ll have to ask her what it is.”
He was undecided whether or not to do this at once or to wait a
while. Finally he decided to wait. A little later he met Miss Tyndall
walking along. She came over toward Joe.
“Will you have time to do me another favor?” she asked, falling into
step with him.
“Another one of the dogs ill?” he asked with a smile.
“No, but I wonder if you can take me with you when you go back to
get Pinky. I’ll be so anxious about him.”
“Why, yes, I intended to take you--that is, if you want to come.”
“Oh, indeed I do! I never knew before how thrilling it was to ride on
a motor-cycle. I don’t see how you dare ride one on the high wire.”
“Oh, it’s all in practice and in getting used to it,” Joe said.
“How did you come to take up that line of work?” Miss Tyndall asked.
And then, almost before he realized it, Joe was telling the girl much
of his past life--of going out on the road with the magician, of
joining the circus, and finally of acting in the tank. In her turn
Miss Tyndall told something of herself. She had always been fond of
animals, and so, naturally, when she had to earn her own living she
chose to do it through the medium of the “happy family” of cats, dogs
and other animals.
As Joe and Miss Tyndall were thus talking Helen again passed. She
bowed and smiled, but her glance did not include Joe.
“Isn’t Miss Morton a dear girl?” asked Miss Tyndall.
“Fine!” answered Joe enthusiastically.
“And she is so expert with her horse. I should think all the men in
the circus would be in love with her.”
“Oh, we all like her,” said Joe warmly.
“It’s nice to be popular,” was Miss Tyndall’s comment, and she sighed
a little, giving Joe a sideways glance.
“I don’t think _you_ have any reason to complain,” he returned with a
laugh. “I’ve heard many compliments about you.”
“Have you, really? Tell me about them. Please do, Joe--I mean Mr.
Strong!” and she seemed confused, and blushed. “I didn’t mean to do
that,” she went on. “But I hear nearly every one call you by your
first name----”
“So why shouldn’t you?” interrupted Joe with a smile. “Go ahead--I
like it. And I’ll call you--Hazel.”
“That will be fine!” she exclaimed, laughing. “I do so hate being
formal--Joe,” and there was the dancing light of mischief in her eyes
as she looked at him.
Just before the time for the evening performance Joe took Miss
Tyndall on the motor-cycle over to get the little dog. It was a
fine moonlight evening and the trip was soon made. Pinky had fully
recovered and seemed to enjoy the ride back in Miss Tyndall’s arms.
The girl and Joe plainly enjoyed the trip, for they talked nonsense
and laughed all along the way.
Joe did not get a chance to speak to Helen until after the night
performance, and when he did she was hurrying to the train, for the
show was about to move on.
“Helen,” began Joe, “I want to ask----”
“Please don’t ask me anything now,” she said, and she smiled faintly.
“I am _so_ tired! I want to lie down. I’ll see you in the morning.
Did you and Miss Tyndall have a nice ride?”
“Why--er--yes,” said Joe, haltingly. “I--er--that is----”
But Helen, hurrying on to her car, did not wait for him to finish.
“This is queer,” mused Joe. “I wonder if Helen really thinks I care
for Hazel?”
And the more he thought about it the more he was puzzled.
The next day, after arriving at the place where the circus was to
show and having made sure that his motor-cycle apparatus was in
proper shape, Joe sought out Helen, determined to have a talk with
her.
“If she thinks I deliberately took Miss Tyndall out for a ride
instead of taking her, as I promised, I’ll have to tell her
differently, that’s all,” mused Joe. “She must be--jealous,” and he
smiled at the thought.
But the determination to clear matters up with Helen and the ability
to do so, were two different things. Helen either deliberately or by
accident kept out of Joe’s way all that day, and when she did meet
him she seemed to have some excuse for not stopping to chat as she
had formerly done.
Miss Tyndall, on the other hand, made it a point to speak to Joe
several times. She invited him to come and be introduced more
intimately to some of the members of her animal family, and Joe
accepted. He liked Miss Tyndall very much, but not in the same way
that he cared for Helen.
There was a decided coolness in Helen’s manner, and Joe could not
help noticing it. It was evident to others, too, for Bill Watson, the
veteran clown, spoke about it.
“What’s wrong between you and the little lady, Joe?” he asked. “You
and she don’t seem to be on good terms.”
“It isn’t my fault,” protested Joe.
“And I notice you’re taking quite a shine to Miss Tyndall,” the clown
went on. “Well, she’s a mighty nice little girl; but it isn’t right,
Joe, to throw over old acquaintances altogether when a new one comes
along.”
“I’m not!” cried Joe. Then, getting desperate, he said: “What would
you do, Bill? Helen doesn’t seem to want to speak to me any more.”
“What happened?”
Then Joe told the story of the motor-cycle ride to take the dog to
the doctor’s.
“That’s it!” exclaimed the clown. “Now possibly Helen doesn’t
understand that. It may be that some one has been gossiping. I’ll
tell you what to do. Make it a point to see her, and tell her the
whole business.”
“I’ve tried to, several times, but she won’t listen. She always seems
to be in too much of a hurry.”
“I’ll fix it,” said Bill. “I’ll get my wife to call her in for a
chat, and then I’ll let you know. You can stroll in, just casually,
and then my wife will go out and you’ll have a chance to speak to
Helen. Will that do?”
“Fine, thanks.”
That plan was carried out. At first Helen seemed embarrassed when
alone with Joe, but he went boldly at the work of getting the
explanation over with.
“Look here, Helen!” he exclaimed, “I want to tell you about that ride
with Miss Tyndall.”
“Oh, I don’t know that it’s important for me to know,” she remarked,
a bit coldly.
“But I _want_ you to listen,” he said. And then he told about the
dog, and Miss Tyndall’s request that he hurry with her pet to the
doctor’s.
“Oh, I didn’t know that!” Helen exclaimed. “They never told me it was
to take the dog! I’m--I’m so sorry, Joe,” and she held out her hand.
“Did some one tell you about my taking her out for a ride?” Joe asked.
“Yes. It was Miss----Oh, well, I won’t mention any names. Maybe she
didn’t mean to cause trouble. But when I saw you and Miss Tyndall
coming back that day I thought you just went off with her for a
pleasure trip.”
“No, indeed!” cried Joe.
“Not that you wouldn’t have a perfect _right_ to, if you _liked_,”
Helen went on, “only----”
“Only I didn’t want to!” interrupted Joe. “It was a case of doing her
a favor.”
“I see,” murmured Helen, and she tried to draw away her hand, but
Joe, smiling, still held it.
“It’s a fine day,” he said, “and perhaps you’d like to come for a
little motor-cycle ride yourself.”
“Perhaps I would,” Helen answered softly. And a little later, as
the two rode off together, there being a few hours to spare between
performances, Bill Watson turned to his wife and said:
“Well, I guess those two children have made up.”
“It looks so,” agreed Mrs. Watson with a smile. “That’s what they
are--just children, and nice children, too!”
“Well, you can’t be young but once!” and the old clown sighed, though
the weight of years rested lightly on him.
If Miss Tyndall felt any resentment she did not show it. She was as
smiling and jolly as ever to both Joe and Helen. But when she dropped
several hints to Joe that another motor-cycle ride would not be
objectionable, even if there were no necessity for taking a dog to
the doctor’s, Joe managed to get out of it gracefully.
And thus that little episode was safely gotten over with, though for
a time it caused Joe some uneasiness.
Then our hero had something new to think about. One day two letters
came to him. One was from his English solicitor, stating that Joe’s
financial affairs were in worse shape than ever. He was urged to
come over, if he possibly could, or send money to hire additional
solicitors.
“Not if I know it!” Joe exclaimed. “I would like to run over and
shake ’em up, but as for money--I’ll need all I have and can get to
complete my wings of steel. And, speaking of them, let’s hear what
Mr. Ryden has to say,” for the other letter was from the inventor who
was working on the wings of steel.
Joe had but to read a few lines before he realized that the news was
good. Mr. Ryden wrote:
“I do not want to be too sanguine, but I think the new wings are
going to be a success. I wish you could come and test them. They
work all right, with a weight equal to yours, but it wants an
actual, living person under them to make the test complete. And I
confess I have not the nerve to trust myself to them.”
“Hurrah!” cried Joe, so loudly that Helen, who was passing, heard and
asked:
“What is it, Joe? Are you going to get the rest of your money?”
“Not yet, but my wings of steel are finished. I’m going to try them.”
A troubled look came over Helen’s face.
“Oh, Joe, I wish you wouldn’t!” she exclaimed.
“Don’t worry,” he answered. “It will be all right. I won’t get hurt.”
Joe was anxious to test the _Bat_ as soon as possible, and how to
do this, and not lose any time from the circus, was a problem to be
solved. For his high-wire act was billed in advance, and to omit it
from any performance would be to keep bad faith with the public.
However, on consulting Jim Tracy, Joe learned that there would be one
open date, when the circus, by reason of making a “long jump,” would
not play. And as the route took them within fair distance of Mr.
Brader’s factory, Joe decided he would go there, as this would be the
best chance he would have to give the new wings a trial.
“And we’ll go with you,” said Ben Turton and Bill Watson, when Joe
told them his plans.
“We saw the failure; now we want to see the success,” said the old
clown.