JOE’S SURPRISE
When Joe’s second, and successful, flight was concluded he found his
clothes were dry enough to put on.
“Though they need a visit to the tailor’s before I shall look the way
I want to,” he said with a smile. “But we’ll be traveling back after
dark, so no one will see me.”
“And I’ll have the machine crated and shipped to you,” said Mr.
Ryden. “Are you going to use it in the circus?”
“I haven’t quite decided,” was Joe’s reply. “Jim Tracy, our
ring-master and one of the owners, doesn’t seem to think much of it.
But I may cause him to change his mind. I think the wings of steel,
aside from everything else, are quite a novelty.”
“They’re more than a novelty,” said Bill Watson. “They’re a dangerous
toy,” and he smiled grimly.
“But they’ll attract a lot of attention,” said Benny Turton, “and
that’s what one wants in a circus.”
“Well, we’ll see what can be done with them,” concluded Joe. “At
least I have proved that I can fly with them.”
The journey back to the town in which the circus was to stay over
Sunday was safely made. A few days later, on their arrival in another
town, Joe received word from the express company that there was a big
box for him.
“It’s my wings of steel,” said the young performer. “I suppose I can
carry them with the rest of my baggage, Jim Tracy?” he asked the
ring-master.
“Oh, yes,” was the answer. “Bring ’em along. Ben and Bill were
telling me what you have been doing, but I’d rather you wouldn’t use
your new machine, Joe.”
“Why not?” asked our hero in some surprise. For instead of finding
the ring-master enthusiastic, as he had thought he would be, Joe
found the circus owner rather indifferent toward what the boy felt
was a decided triumph. “Why don’t you want me to use the wings?” he
repeated.
“Because, from what Bill Watson tells me, they’re dangerous, Joe, and
I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why, I didn’t get hurt! I had one little accident, but I got out of
it all right. My wings are as safe as----”
“They’re not any safer than your high wire, and that isn’t safe,”
said the ring-master. “Understand, Joe, I’m speaking from a selfish
motive. I don’t want you to get hurt, because your place would be
hard to fill as a drawing attraction, and goodness knows we need that
in this circus of late.”
“Oh, well, I’m not going to get hurt,” Joe declared, “and I intend to
use the wings some time.”
“Well, put it off until the end of the season,” was the ring-master’s
advice. “You are one of our most valuable assets, Joe, like a baby
elephant----”
“Oh, don’t compare me with one of the animals,” interrupted Joe with
a laugh.
“No, but you know what I mean. You’re as big a drawing card as a baby
elephant would be, and you know how the crowds come to the show just
to see that. So I don’t want to lose you by having you break your
neck in your wings of steel--and Bill Watson declares that’s what you
will do.”
“Oh, Bill! Well, Bill _means_ all right,” said Joe with a smile, “but
he’s as nervous as a woman about some things.”
“Well, just leave off the wings,” concluded the ring-master, as he
passed on.
“And continue to be the baby elephant,” added Joe, who seemed amused
at the idea.
“Elephant--elephant,” he repeated to himself, as he went to his
dressing tent. “I wonder if I could work that trick. It would give
Jim Tracy the surprise of his life--and some others, too. I’ve a good
notion to try it.”
But what he was going to try Joe confided to no one--not even to
Helen. She asked him about his wings of steel, but the lad had no
chance to show them to her or to make another flight, for the circus
was constantly on the road now, playing only two performances in each
stopping place; consequently, there was not time to unbox the wings
and make a flight. Not that their owner was anxious to do so, for he
planned to make money out of his wings by giving exhibitions, and he
did not see how he could do this by going up on the circus grounds in
plain sight of every one.
“If I can’t make a contract to fly in the circus tent, which I could
do, for it’s high enough, then I must make contracts with fairs and
expositions, as I did when I first rode the high wire,” said Joe.
“But first I’m going to carry out my surprise.”
The show played in a large city one Saturday, but the attendance was
not good, and Joe saw Jim Tracy, Mr. Sampson and some of the other
partners in conference later on. He heard that they were discussing
ways and means of cutting down expenses, and, at the same time,
making the circus a better drawing card.
“I guess it’s about time to spring my surprise,” reasoned Joe. “We
will lay up over Sunday in Millburn, and that will give me a chance
to get out the wings and set them up.”
Joe did not, as a rule, believe in working on Sunday, and Sunday
performances were never given. But in a circus, as in many other
industries and businesses, there are certain things that must be done
on Sunday as well as on week days. Sometimes the show traveled on
Sunday, and if it did not, there were the animals to feed and look
after, and many routine tasks to perform.
So Joe felt that he had a certain right to do on Sunday what he had,
of necessity, to do. Accordingly, with the help of Benny Turton,
he unboxed the wings of steel and put them together. This was a
comparatively simple matter, for the wings had only to be attached
to the framework, and the gear wheels and torsion rods connected.
The storage battery was still charged, but to make sure of plenty
of current Joe had the electrodes attached to a small dynamo which
was carried with the circus, the dynamo being operated by a gasoline
engine. Joe had a transformer, so that the battery would receive
only the proper sort of current, it being possible to change an
alternation into a direct current.
The youth said nothing to Jim Tracy about the plan for a surprise. As
a matter of fact, he saw little of the ring-master that day. There
seemed to be some financial trouble, and that had taken him out of
town for the greater part of the day.
“And are those the wings of steel, in which you fly?” asked Helen,
when Joe brought her in to give her a view of the machine.
“That’s what they are, Helen. What do you think of them?”
“Joe, I think they’re very dangerous,” she answered earnestly, “and I
do hope you will never get hurt in them.”
“I hope so myself, Helen, but they’re not as dangerous as you think.
I’ll give you a chance to judge to-morrow.”
“Are you going to make a flight?”
“Hush!” he exclaimed, looking around to make sure no one heard. “It’s
a secret!”
Helen shook her head.
“I don’t like such dangerous secrets,” she murmured.
After Joe had charged the storage battery to its capacity he gave the
wings a partial trial in the privacy of the tent, when only a few of
the circus folk were about. He turned on the power slightly--enough
to be sure that the wings would vibrate, and he was certain that when
the full strength was sent into the motors that the _Bat_ would rise
with him in it, as it had done before.
There was a worried look on the face of Jim Tracy the next day. Joe,
who approached to talk over some circus matters with him, noted this,
and asked:
“What’s the trouble?”
“All sorts,” answered the ring-master gloomily. “It looks as if we
were going to have a frost.”
“Not this hot weather,” protested Joe, for it was the middle of the
summer.
“I mean a financial frost,” Jim explained. “There has been only a
small advance sale of tickets, and always before, in this town,
we have drawn well. But I guess the public is getting tired of
circuses--and we’ve got one of the best.”
“I know what financial troubles are,” said Joe, as he thought of
his own tangled affairs in England, which were no nearer to being
straightened out than before. “But why don’t you give ’em a bang-up
parade, Jim, and awaken enthusiasm?”
“We’re going to have a parade, but I don’t see how I can make it any
different, or make it draw a crowd to fill the tents.”
“Maybe I can think of a way, Jim. May I borrow Rajah?”
“What! Our biggest elephant?”
“I want the biggest you’ve got, and a man to steer him--or whatever
it is you do to elephants. May I have him?”
“Why, yes, I suppose so. Are you going to ride in the parade?”
“Sort of. It will be my first offense.”
“Well, don’t try anything rash,” advised Jim. “Rajah won’t stand for
being ridden over by a motor-cycle.”
“I won’t do that,” Joe promised, laughing.
Jim seemed strangely indifferent to what Joe proposed to do, but our
hero knew it was because the ring-master was thinking of the troubles
which the circus had to meet.
Monday dawned bright and clear, a fine circus day if ever there was
one. Preparations for the parade started soon after breakfast, and
every one had orders to look his best--to make as good a showing as
possible.
Joe told Tom Layton, the mahout of Rajah, of the permission accorded
by the ring-master.
“Want to ride on Rajah; eh?” repeated Tom. “Why sure, I’ve no
objection. Rajah is as steady as a church and as gentle as a baby. I
can do anything with him.”
“That’s why I decided on him,” said Joe. “He won’t run away if
something happens, will he?”
“If something happens? What do you mean?”
Joe looked around to be sure no one was listening, and then he
explained something to Tom in a low voice. The elephant man seemed
surprised, and then amused. Finally he remarked:
“Well, yes, it can be done. And, as you say, we can carry up the
sides of the howdah higher so no one can see what is in it.”
“That’s what I want. I think we’ll give ’em a surprise all right.”