CHAPTER III
A SETBACK
Preparations for giving the evening performance of the circus were under way when Joe arrived. He left his motor-cycle with one of the men he knew and then proceeded to look for Helen, Benny or some others of his friends. Benny was on his way to the dining tent, but as Joe saw Helen at the same time that he had a glimpse of the human fish, it can be imagined in which direction the lad walked. Ben called to him, however:
“Well, did you cable your lawyer to hustle that money over to you right away, and quit fooling?”
“I wish I could have done that,” Joe answered, “but I wrote him a stiff letter.”
“Good!” exclaimed Ben. “See you later. Will you come over and have a bite?”
“Not now, thanks.”
Joe greeted Helen with a smile.
“I see you are still alive,” she murmured as she shook hands with him.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” asked Joe, with a puzzled look.
“Well, I didn’t know, from what Ben and Bill told me, but that you might be trying to fly over to see us, and if you did you might have fallen on the way.”
“Not quite so bad as that, Helen.”
“Joe, are you really going to trust yourself to those wings of steel?”
“I am, if I can get them to work.”
“You’ll use a life-net, won’t you, as you did in your motor-cycle act?”
“I can’t very well. You see I expect to cover a good bit of space when I fly up and soar around, and it would have to be a pretty big net to catch me if I fell.”
“But what if you do fall, Joe?” and Helen seemed quite anxious.
“Oh, I’m not going to fall,” he told the pretty bareback rider. “I’ve faith enough in my machine for that. But it isn’t in working order yet. Now let’s talk about yourself. How are you, and how is the nice horse?” for Helen had a steed named Rosebud, of which she was very fond, as was Joe.
“Oh, Rosebud is all right. I’m just on my way to give him his sugar allowance. Want to come with me?”
“I most certainly do.”
A little later Helen and Joe were in the animal tent, and Rosebud was rubbing his velvety muzzle first against the youth and then against Helen’s hand, as she fed him the lumps of sugar.
“That’s his reward for being good to-day,” Helen said with a smile. “I never had him act better in the ring, and I put him through some new tricks for the first time in public this afternoon, too.”
“That’s nice. How is the show going, by the way?”
Helen paused a moment before replying. Then she said:
“Well, Joe, to tell you the truth, it isn’t going as well as it did when you were with it last season.”
“Is that so? I hope my leaving didn’t have anything to do with it, Helen.”
“Well, we miss you, of course; but you see we’re on a new circuit, and playing in sections of the country where there isn’t such a large population as we’re used to. We’re not getting the crowds we are in the habit of playing to, and I think the management is beginning to feel it.”
“Is Jim Tracy worried?” asked Joe, referring to his good friend, the ring-master, who was one of the owners of the show.
“Yes, I think he is. We all are, in fact, for of course our salaries depend on the money the circus takes in. I’m better off than some, for you know I have my little inheritance from grandfather’s estate to fall back on. But some of the performers haven’t saved anything, and if the show fails——”
“Oh, it won’t do that!” interrupted Joe quickly. “Can’t Jim change the route so as to get into a better section of the country?”
“He’s thought of that, he told me. But the trouble is that the other good routes are taken up by other circuses, and you know it isn’t much use to follow a show in a city.”
“That’s right,” Joe admitted. “Once the small boy and his sister have seen one show in a season, dad or mother isn’t going to give them money for a second peep, no matter how much Johnny and Mary want to go.”
“That’s it,” agreed Helen, as she patted Rosebud. “So you see there isn’t much of anything that can be done except to keep on and hope for better audiences. That’s one reason why I put Rosebud into a new act. I wanted to make a thriller. I hoped it would draw a crowd.”
“And has it?”
“It hasn’t had a chance for a good test yet. This is the first day.”
“Is it a thriller?”
“I’ll let you judge of that, if you’re going to stay for the night show.”
“Yes, I am. I’ll see you then, Helen.”
A little later Joe, after visiting with some of the circus men, went to supper with Helen.
Torches were glowing, and the “barkers” out in front of the side show were bawling out the attractions within. Inside the big tents (the one where the animals were exhibited, and the “main top” where the performance took place) the portable gasoline-incandescent lights were aglow. Helen had gone to her dressing room, and Joe stood about watching the crowds approaching, for the hour of the night show was at hand.
“It isn’t going to be a very good crowd,” mused Joe, as he estimated the numbers in the throng. “I guess they’re doing about a fourth less business than when I was with them. Not that my act made all the difference,” he told himself with a smile. “It must be, as Helen says, that they’re on a poor route. Well, I’ll go inside and see what’s happening.”
Joe knew the ticket taker at the entrance, who passed him in with a nod, saying:
“If you don’t look out, Joe, we’ll be after you to be with us again.”
“You’ll have to wait until I get my new act worked up,” Joe answered with a smile.
With a burst of music and with flares from the trumpets, the grand entry was made; then later, as the camels, horses and elephants filed out, the gaily clad men and women performers ran in to do their acts.
Joe looked over to where the Lascalla Brothers, a troupe of trapeze performers, were flying through the air, somersaulting and doing all manner of tricks. Joe’s first appearance in circus work had been with this team, the members of which were “brothers” in name only.
“I wouldn’t mind doing a few stunts on the bars or rings,” said the youth to himself, as he watched his former partners. “I think I’ll try it in private. Nothing like keeping one’s arms and legs supple. There is no telling when I might need to do some of the stunts I used to do. If I get my wings of steel to work, trapeze practice will be just the thing for me.”
Joe turned to look at Benny Turton, who was performing tricks in a tank of water, while in another tank, built around the first in such a way as to make it appear to be but one big glass box, swam a number of goldfish. A trained seal, Lizzie, performed with Ben.
“Here’s what I want to see!” Joe exclaimed, as Helen came daintily into the ring, an attendant leading her horse, Rosebud. And then the girl in whom Joe was so greatly interested went through her act with her well-trained steed. Toward the close Helen made a flying leap from a pedestal to the back of Rosebud while the horse was going at a good rate of speed. It was a dangerous act, but it brought forth a round of applause.
“How did you like it, Joe?” asked Helen, after the show when there was time to talk. “Was it thrilling enough?”
“Too much so, Helen,” said Joe gravely. “I don’t like you to do that last jump.”
“Why not? I’ve been practising it for ever so long. To-day is the first time I have used it, and, as I said, we simply must put on a more thrilling show or the people won’t come to see us.”
“I know. But you might fall and be hurt.”
“So might you, on your motor-cycle or your wings of steel—more especially on the wings of steel. If it’s risky for me, Joe, it’s risky for you, and I couldn’t be hurt half as much as you could, for I wouldn’t fall far.”
“I know, Helen. But I wish you’d give up that jump.”
“Do you, really, Joe?” and she looked at him earnestly.
“I certainly do!” he exclaimed with emphasis. “If you were hurt, Helen, I would——”
Joe did not finish, but Helen knew what he meant.
“I can’t give up that stunt, Joe,” she said. “But I’ll promise to be very careful—that is if you do the same.”
“I will, Helen. Let’s shake on it!”
“All right,” she agreed laughingly, and if the boy held her hand longer than was really necessary for a bargain-binding clasp, who is going to find fault with him?
Joe did not care to ride back the ten miles to his boarding place near the apparatus factory after dark on his motor-cycle, so he stayed at a hotel in the city where the circus was playing. In the morning he called to say good-bye to Helen.
“I want to get back and see if my motors for the wings of steel have arrived,” he told the girl.
“When shall I see you again?” she asked him.
“The first chance I get. I’ll be able to ride over when you show in Millville, I think.”
“Do,” she urged.
“And be careful about your jump,” called Joe.
“I will,” she promised.
It was three days after this that the motors for which Joe had been waiting arrived at the factory. Then followed a busy time while he and Mr. Brader’s men attached them to the wings of steel, and connected them to the small but powerful storage batteries inside the framework.
“There!” Joe exclaimed, “my machine is done, all but some finishing touches which have nothing to do with the power to mount into the air. I’m going to give it a trial.”
“Are you going up in it yourself?” asked Mr. Brader.
“Not the first time. I’ll set it going without taking my place inside the framework. I’ll have a rope fastened to it so it can’t get away, and I’ll attach a spring balance to see how much upward pull it registers. If it lifts itself and pulls enough pounds to represent my weight, I’ll know it’s a success.”
“That’s a good way to test it,” said Mr. Brader.
The test came off the next day in the same lot outside the factory where Joe had given his motor-cycle-wire act its initial test.
The wings of steel were rather uncanny looking, some of the men thought, for they seemed like a great bat or some prehistoric monster. With Joe in the contrivance it would appear even more striking and odd. But he was not yet going to trust himself to it.
The device was brought out, and preliminary tests made of the motors and batteries.
“Well, everything seems to be all right,” the young inventor announced. “Now for the real test.”
A rope was made fast to the “Bat,” as Joe had christened his wings of steel. This rope was to prevent its soaring off, on the same principle that a captive balloon is held to earth. To the motors was attached a long wire with a switch connection. This was so arranged that Joe could turn on the power, the Bat would rise, trailing the wire after it, and Joe could shut off the current any time he desired. As he would not be in the Bat to steer it, he set the rudders to guide the craft up on a gentle slant, and out away from the factory. Also there was a spring balance to test the pull of the machine.
“Here she goes!” cried the lad, as he turned the switch.
There was a hum as the motors received the current from the storage battery, and the great wings flapped up and down, slowly at first, and then more rapidly as Joe turned on more current.
“She’s going up!” cried Mr. Brader.
The Bat left the ground a little way. Joe looked at the spring scale, and his face showed disappointment. He turned on the power full, but the Bat did not rise any higher, and as the boy read the pull exerted, he said:
“Only fifty pounds! Not a third enough. Something is wrong!”
And even as he spoke the wings of steel fell back to the ground with a crash of metal.