CHAPTER XIV
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."