CHAPTER XIX
JOE'S MARKSMANSHIP
There was a different atmosphere about the circus in Madison Square Garden than there had been on the road while showing under canvas. The performers seemed keyed up to a higher pitch, for they realized, or most of them did, that the most critical audience in the world was looking at them.
"You have to make good in New York—or—quit," said Jim Tracy, and Joe felt this to be true. Still he did not worry, as his act had already, in a measure, been on trial in the big city. Some of the other performers, though, were a bit nervous as to how their turns would go. Benny Turton was among them.
"I've never gone into the tank before such a crowd as we'll soon have to face," he said. "I'm afraid I may not do well."
"Oh, of course you will!" Helen exclaimed. "Don't get nervous."
Helen herself did not seem to be the least bit nervous, though she had never faced a New York audience, either. But Helen Morton had the knack, which so many girls and women seem to have, or are able to acquire, of appearing at ease whether she was so or not. It's a matter of nerve possibly; nerve of a different sort, it may be, from that required to perform some hazardous feat.
Madison Square Garden is a big building on Madison Avenue. If one has ever been in New York one will remember that the building has a gold statue of Diana, the huntress, atop the tower. It is the scene of many exhibitions—athletic exhibitions, bicycle riding, automobile and motor-boat shows, as well as a Mecca for the big circuses. It is all under one roof and the animals are exhibited in the basement.
There were busy days spent in getting the show ready for presentation to the public, for things had to be done in a manner different from that when the circus was showing under canvas. At last everything was accomplished by means of the wonderful system showmen have evolved for themselves, and the opening night came. The show opened at night instead of in the afternoon in order to have a bigger throng at the initial performance.
Joe and his two helpers had set up his high-wire apparatus, and he had thoroughly tested it. It did not take the boy long to get used to the difference, and he felt that he could ride as well as he had in the open or under the main-top.
Trumpets blared, the drums boomed and the musicians played lively airs as the crowds filed in. It was a brilliant scene, and many society folk made up parties to take in the wonders of the circus. It was a fashionable fad, which the circus people fostered.
Benny Turton grew more and more nervous as the time for the opening approached, until Joe took him off in a corner and said:
"Look here now. If you don't stop, I'll put you down with the elephants and make you feed them peanuts, while I do your act myself and take all the credit!"
That startled Benny, and he calmed down. And when the time came for him to go into the tank he was as cool as he always had been. He made a big hit, too, for the applause was generous, as it was for Helen and most of the other performers.
The clowns, of course, gave enjoyment, not only to the little folk, many of whom were present, but to their elders as well. Bill Watson had added some new material to his act, which was much enjoyed; and the other clowns, spurred by the magnetism of a New York audience, created gales of laughter.
Joe was given a rousing reception when he came out of the dressing room in his shimmering white suit. He began to think he was better known than he had suspected; which was a fact, for a moving picture concern, in view of Joe's reappearance in New York, had made a specialty of showing in many houses the films taken of him climbing the Flatiron Building, and riding across the street chasm.
The lad rode the wire successfully, though for one tense moment, as he sped across the approaching space, he thought he was riding toward a fall. A rope, loosed from some trapeze apparatus overhead, fell right across the white chalk mark. Joe was on the point of shutting off power, preferring to start over again, but Ryan, who was near the first pair of shears, saw what had happened.
With a leap he reached the rope and pulled it out of the way, at the same time crying to Joe:
"Come on!"
Joe turned the power on full, and a second later he was climbing up the slanted wire and speeding across it. The audience began to applaud, and this increased to a roar of appreciation when the lights were suddenly turned out, and Joe flashed on those decorating his motor-cycle. He made a strange picture up above in the darkness, flashing across the high wire. Then, as he reached the end of the straight course, the Garden was brightly illuminated again, and the lad rode down the other slope of wire.
Our hero had to bow again and again to the applause. His first night in Madison Square Garden was a complete success.
And Joe was glad, not only for his own sake, but for the sake of the show. It needed to draw big crowds to make it pay, and everything that made for popularity counted.
Helen, too, had her share of applause. Dainty horse acts are always well received, even with the growing popularity of the automobile, and Rosebud was certainly a beautiful animal. Helen had a new costume for the New York engagement, and Joe thought he had never seen her look so pretty.
"Yet I wonder if the circus is the best place for her," he mused. "Sometimes I wish she was out of it. While there are plenty of good people in the business, and while my mother was in it, still the atmosphere isn't always of the best. Well, maybe some day when I get rich, and have my inheritance from England, I can take her away."
After the opening night the circus in Madison Square Garden settled down into the regular routine. It was much pleasanter than being on the road, for after the performers had finished their acts in the afternoon their time was their own for enjoyment until night. And there was much to see and enjoy in New York.
At night, too, when they had finished, instead of taking a night trip in a train, the men and women could go to their boarding places and enjoy a comfortable sleep. Though, in truth, by force of habit few of the performers had any trouble in sleeping on the train.
"I must get something new," said Joe to Helen one day, when they came back from a trip down the bay on a sight-seeing yacht.
"Something new? What do you mean?" she asked.
"For my act," was the answer. "I think it needs something else besides the lighting effect, and I'm going to try a new stunt."
"What is it?" asked Helen. "I think your act is all right as it is now."
"No, it needs freshening up," said Joe, "and I'm going to do it."
The next day, as soon as he had finished his act, Joe dressed in his street garments and sought out the nearest public shooting gallery. He took up a rifle and made so many bull's-eyes, and broke so many clay pipes, that the proprietor looked at him in astonishment.
"Are you a professional?" he asked.
"Not a professional shot," said Joe, "though I used to be pretty good at it. But I'm out of practice. I want to work with revolvers, but I thought I'd start with the rifle."
"Well, if you're half as good with the revolver as you are with a rifle, you needn't worry," said the man. "I've another gallery, on purpose for revolver shooting, where the New York police practise."
"I think I should like to try that," said Joe, as he paid his bill for the cartridges. Then he arranged to come on certain days of the week and practise marksmanship.
Target practise with revolvers is vastly different from shooting with a rifle, and Joe was not disappointed when he made low scores at first. But gradually his skill improved, and one day he invited Helen to accompany him, and she saw him do some really remarkable shooting.
"But what's it all for?" she asked. "I know the circus is going out West soon. You're not afraid of bandits or train robbers, are you?"
"No, I've something else in mind," said Joe with a laugh. "I'll let you into the secret soon."