CHAPTER XI
JOE WONDERS
Rather exhausted, not so much physically as mentally, by the nervous strain of performing so thrilling an act before a big crowd for the first time, Joe Strong did not at first realize just what he ought to do on hearing his mother's name mentioned by some one in the throng. Then, as he thought of how important it might be for him to see who had spoken, and, perhaps, question him, Joe looked eagerly among the persons in front of him to see who the man might be.
He saw no one he knew, which was not to be wondered at. At first he had an idea it might be some former circus acquaintance of Mrs. Strong's.
"But he must have known her in England, to speak of her as a girl, and of her riding and by her maiden name," reflected Joe. "And if he knew her——"
He paused a moment, almost overwhelmed by the idea that suddenly came to him.
"Why," he thought, "that person might know something of mother's family, whether she had inherited any property or not, and if any was due me. I must find out who it was."
Joe started toward the crowd held back by the rope. The people were still cheering and applauding, for the thrilling ride of the young lad in white tights had made a great impression on them. But Joe saw no one he knew.
"How can I find out who it was?" he asked himself.
"Come on to your tent," Ryan was urging him. "You're in a perspiration and you'll take cold."
"Wait a minute," said Joe, but his assistant threw a blanket over the shoulders of the young motor-cycle rider.
Then an idea came to Joe.
"That was an Englishman who spoke," he reflected. "I could tell that by his accent. And if he knew my mother he must have lived in England near her. It's queer, too, but I've heard that same voice somewhere before. I wonder where it was. I'll see what this will bring about."
Stepping close to the rope that held back the crowd, Joe asked in a loud voice:
"Are there any Englishmen here?"
It was rather a strange question, and the throng must have felt as much, for they stared curiously at Joe. But he took what was perhaps the only method open to him of discovering who had made the remark about Janet Willoughby.
"Englishmen?" repeated a man in the crowd.
"Yes," went on Joe. "I just heard a remark made by a man with an English accent, and I want to find out who it was."
"I guess we're all pretty much English here," said another man with a laugh. Indeed there were very few foreigners at the fair.
"You mean you're all Americans," said Joe, with a smile. "But I mean an Englishman from England. Are there any such here—any one who knew a Miss Janet Willoughby, of Surrey," for Joe had learned that his mother's people lived in that part of England. He decided that he might as well ask boldly the question he wanted to know.
But no one answered, though one man said:
"There was an Englishman standing near me a minute ago, just as you rode down the wire."
"Are you sure he was English?" Joe asked.
"Sure! He had the accent all right. But he went off through the crowd that way."
"Would you know him if you saw him again?" Joe eagerly inquired. "I'd like to find him to ask about a lady he knew in England, for I heard him mention her name a minute ago," Joe went on, not thinking it necessary to say that the lady was his mother.
"I might know him if I saw him," said the man. "Though I didn't take much notice of him."
"Just take a look around, and if you see him while I'm dressing, bring him to my tent," said Joe, for he did not want to go about in the crowd in his rather scanty suit. "I'll pay you for your trouble," he added.
"Oh, it's no trouble," said the speaker, a young lad about Joe's age. "I'm glad to do it for you, but I'm not sure I can find him."
"Try, anyhow," urged Joe. It was a slender clue but worth following.
Joe went to his tent to dress, while the young searcher began to circulate in the throng. Joe's questions had caused a little stir, and there was much curiosity as to what his object could be, but he did not mind the attention he had attracted.
"I wonder if that man who made the chance remark could have really meant my mother," mused the boy on his way to his dressing tent. "Of course there might be more than one Janet Willoughby, but when he spoke of her as a girl in England, and what a daring horsewoman she was, it makes a combination that would be hard to duplicate unless my mother was meant. It would be strange if I should meet some of her former English friends after all these years."
Bill Watson, the veteran clown, had known Joe's mother as Mrs. Strong, and our hero, during his stay with the circus, had met several other persons who had known his father and his mother during their professional careers, but he had yet to meet one who had known Mrs. Strong as a girl in England.
"If I could only find him," thought Joe, "he might put me on the track of my inheritance, provided there is one. I wish I had acted more quickly—as soon as I heard his remark. But it struck me all so suddenly that I didn't know what to do. Yet I ought to know that voice. I wonder where I have heard it before?"
Joe racked his brains in an effort to remember, but he could not. He had met so many persons, and he had been so busy of late, perfecting himself for his thrilling act, that events, faces, voices and happenings overlapped each other.
"It went great!" said Jeroleman, coming in with the motor-cycle.
"Yes, it went off all right," agreed Joe.
"You're not going to work it to-night, are you?" asked Ryan.
"No, the fair closes at night. We don't have to do anything until to-morrow, when we give two performances, one in the morning and another in the afternoon. You two can do as you please with yourselves, as long as you're on hand in the morning."
His helpers thanked him. As for Joe, he knew what he was going to do—ride over to the circus, and see—but there, you can guess who it was he wanted most to see.
Joe had donned his street attire when the man who had spoken about the Englishman came to the tent.
"Did you find him?" asked Joe eagerly.
"Not a sign of him, I'm sorry to say. I went all through the crowd, too. But he must have slipped away just after I noticed him. He was standing right close to me."
Joe's hope vanished.
"Thanks," he said to the young fellow. "Are you going to be here to-morrow?"
"That's what I am! I wouldn't miss your act for a whole lot! It's great!"
"I'm glad you think so. Well, if you're in the crowd, and you hear any one speak who you are sure is an Englishman, I wish you would tell him I'd like to see him in my tent after my act is over."
"I sure will do that, Mr. Strong."
"And here's something for your trouble," said Joe, handing him a bill.
The young fellow did not want to take it, but Joe knew that service paid for is the best rendered, and insisted. Then, as he could do nothing more, he had Ryan change the wheels of the motor-cycle and he rode over to the town where the circus was showing.
The afternoon performance was over when Joe reached the lots, but he saw Helen making her way to the tent where her horse, Rosebud, was kept, and he walked across to her.
"Well, well!" she exclaimed, blushing prettily as she shook hands with him, "I am so glad to see you!"
"Not half as glad as I am to meet you again!" cried Joe, and he did not let go of her hand, though Helen tried gently to withdraw it from his clasp. "How are you, and how is Rosebud?"
"Fine! And how about yourself? Is your motor-cycle act going?"
"I've just come from my first public appearance, and, to judge by the applause, I did well. I'll tell you all about it. I'm going to stay for the night performance here. There's something I want to ask Bill Watson."