The paper on which the letter was written was of excellent quality, and Joe could tell by pa.s.sing his fingers over the names, addresses and other matter that it was engraved--not printed.

"If it's a joke they went to a lot of work to get it up," he continued.

"Have you any papers, to prove your ident.i.ty?"

"Yes, I have some birth and marriage certificates, and an old bible that was Grandfather Seth's. I wouldn't want to send them off to New York though."

"It won't be necessary--at least not at first. I'll help you make copies of them, and if these lawyers want to see the real things let them send a man on. That's my advice."

"And very good advice it is too, Joe," Helen said. "I don't believe Bill Watson could give any better. He's a real nice elderly man, and he's been almost a father to me. I often go to him when I have my little troubles. I wish he were here now. But you are very good to me, Joe. I'm going to take your advice."

"I'll help you make the copies," Joe offered. "Did you ever have any idea that your grandfather left valuable property?"

"No, and I don't believe papa or mamma did, either. We were not exactly poor, but we weren't rich. Oh, wouldn't it be nice if I were to get some money?"

"You wouldn't stay with the circus then, would you?"

"Oh, I don't know," she answered musingly. "I think I like it here."

"I know I do," Joe said. "But if you don't want to take my advice you can wait until Mr. Watson comes back. You say he's expected?"

"Yes. Mr. Tracy said he'd join us at Blairstown in a few days. But, anyhow, I'm going to do as you said, Joe. And if I get a million dollars maybe I'll buy a circus of my own," and she laughed at the whimsical idea.

Taking some spare time, she and Joe made copies of certain certificates Helen had in her trunk, and they also copied the record from the old Bible. Joe got the press agent of the show to typewrite a letter to go with the copies, and they were sent to the New York lawyers.

"Now we'll wait and see what comes of it," Helen said. "But I'm not going to lose any sleep over it. I never inherited a fortune, and I don't expect to."

A few days later, when the show reached Blairstown, Bill Watson, a veteran clown, joined the troupe of fun-makers. He was made royally welcome, for his presence had been missed.

"Bill, I want to introduce to you a new friend of mine," said Helen, when she had the opportunity. "He's one of our newest and best performers, aside from you and me," she joked.

"What's the name?" asked jovial Bill, holding out his hand.

"Joe Strong."

"Been in the business long?"

"Not very. I was with Professor Rosello before I came here."

"Never heard of him," and Bill shook his head.

"He was a conjurer," explained Joe. "My father was, too. He was Professor Morretti, and my mother----"

"Was Madame Hortense. She was Janet Willoughby before her marriage,"

broke in Bill Watson, speaking calmly.

"What!" cried Joe. "Did you know her--them?"

"I knew both of them," said Bill. "I didn't connect your name with them at first, Strong not being uncommon. But when you mentioned your father, the professor, why, it came to me in a flash. So you're Madame Hortense's son, eh?"

"Did you know my mother well?" asked Joe.

"Know her?" cried the veteran clown. "I should say I did! Why, she and I were great friends, and so were your father and I, but I did not see so much of him, as he was in a different line. But your mother, Joe! Ah, the profession lost a fine performer when she died. I never thought I'd meet her son, and in a circus at that.

"But I'm glad you're with us, and I want to say that if you have Helen, here, on your side, you've got one of the finest little girls in all the world."

"I found that out as soon as I joined," said Joe.

"Trust you young chaps for not losing any chances like that," chuckled the clown. "Well, I'm glad you two are friends. They tell me you're quite an addition to the Lascalla troupe."

"I'm glad I've been able to do so well," Joe said.

"And how have you been, Helen?" the old clown wanted to know.

"First rate. And, oh, Bill. We have _such_ a mystery for you--Joe and I!"

"A mystery, Helen?"

"Yes; I'm going to be an heiress. Wait until I show you the letter,"

which she did, to the no small astonishment of Bill Watson.

"Well, well," he said over and over again, when Helen and Joe told of the answer they had sent the New York lawyers. "Suppose you do get some money, Helen?"

"It's too good to suppose. I can't imagine any one leaving me money."

"I wish I knew a fairy G.o.dmother who would leave me some," murmured Joe. "But that wouldn't happen in a blue moon."

Bill Watson turned, and looked rather curiously at the young circus performer.

"Well, now, do you know, Joe Strong," he said, "I have an idea."

"An idea!" cried Helen gaily. "How nice, Bill. Tell us about it!"

"Now just a moment, young lady. Don't get too excited with an old man just off a sick bed. But Joe's speaking that way--I call you Joe, as I knew your folks so well--Joe's speaking that way gave me an idea. I wouldn't be so terribly surprised, my boy, if you did have money left you some day."

"How?" asked Joe in surprise.

"Why, your mother, whom, as I said, I knew very well, came of a very rich and aristocratic family in England. She was disowned by them when she married your father--as if public performers weren't as good as aristocrats, any day! But never mind about that. Your mother certainly was rich when she was a girl, Joe, and it may be she is ent.i.tled to money from the English estates now, or, rather, you would be, since she is dead. That's my idea."

CHAPTER X

IN THE TANK

"Are you really serious in that?" asked Joe of the old clown, after a moment's consideration.

"Of course I am, Joe. Why? Would it be strange to have some one leave you money?"