Helen Morton did not allow her distress over the prospective loss of her money to interfere with her circus act. She put Rosebud through his paces in the ring, and received her share of applause at the antics of the clever horse. Helen did a new little trick--the one she had told Joe about.

She tossed flags of different nations to different parts of the ring, and then told Rosebud to fetch them to her, one after the other, calling for them by name.

The intelligent horse made no mistakes, bringing the right flag each time.

"And now," said Helen at the conclusion of her act, "show me what all good little children do when they go to bed at night."

Rosebud bent his forelegs and bowed his head between them as if he were saying his prayers.

"That's a good horse!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Helen. "Now come and get your sugar and give me a kiss," and the animal daintily picked up a lump of the sweet stuff from Helen's hand, and then lightly touched her cheek with his velvety muzzle.

Then with a leap the pretty young rider vaulted into the saddle and rode out of the ring amid applause.

"You're doing beautifully, Helen!" was Joe's compliment, as Helen rode out.

"I may be all right on a horse," she answered, "but I don't know much about money and business."

The show moved on that night, and the next day, when the tent was set up, Joe indulged in light practice. He found the soreness almost gone, and as he worked alone, and with the Lascalla Brothers, his stiffness also disappeared.

"I think I'll go on to-night," he told the ring-master.

"All right, Joe. We'll be glad to have you, of course. But don't take any chances."

Mail was distributed among the circus folk that day following the afternoon performance. Joe had letters from some people to whom he had written in regard to his mother's relatives in England. One gave him the address of a London solicitor, as lawyers are designated over there, and Joe determined to write to him.

"Though I guess my chances of getting an inheritance are pretty slim,"

he told Helen. "I'm not lucky, like you."

"I hope you don't call me lucky!" she exclaimed. "Having money doesn't do me any good. I lose it as fast as I get it."

She had a letter from her lawyer, stating that he had looked further into the case since she had left the papers with him, and that he had less hope than ever of ever being able to get back the cash paid for the oil stock.

Joe did not intend to work in any new tricks the first evening of his reappearance after the accident. But when he got started he felt so well after his rest and his light practice, that he made up his mind he would put on a couple of novelties. Not exactly novelties, either, for they are known to most gymnasts though not often done in a circus.

Joe went up to the top of the tent. Near the small platform, from which he jumped in the long swing, to catch Tonzo Lascalla in the trapeze, Joe had fastened a long cotton rope about two inches in diameter.

He caught hold of the rope in both hands and pa.s.sed it between his thighs, letting it rest on the calf of his left leg. He then brought the rope around over the instep of his left foot, holding it in position with pressure by the right foot, which was pressed against the left.

"Here I come!" Joe cried, and then, letting go with his hands, Joe stretched out his arms, and came down the rope in that fashion, the pressure of his feet on the rope that pa.s.sed between them regulating his speed.

It was a more difficult feat than it appeared, this descending a rope without using one's hands, but it seemed to thrill the crowd sufficiently.

But Joe had not finished. He knew another spectacular act in rope work, which looked difficult and dangerous, and yet was easier to perform than the one he had just done. Often in trapeze work this is the case.

The spectator may be thrilled by some seemingly dangerous and risky act, when, as a matter of fact, it is easy for the performer, who thinks little of it. On the other hand that which often seems from the circus seats to be very easy may be so hard on the muscles and nerves as to be actually dreaded by the performer.

Having himself hauled up to the top of the tent again, Joe once more took hold of the rope. He held himself in position, the rope between his legs, which he thrust out at right angles to his body, his toes pointing straight out. Suddenly he "circled back" to an inverted hang, his head now pointing to the ground many feet below. Then he quickly pa.s.sed the rope about his waist, under his right armpit, crossed his feet with the rope between them, the toes of the right foot pressing the cotton strands against the arch of his left foot.

"Ready!" cried Joe.

There was a boom of the big drum, a ruffle of the snare, and Joe slid down the rope head first with outstretched arms, coming to a sudden stop with his head hardly an inch from the hard ground. But Joe knew just what he was doing and he could regulate his descent to the fraction of an inch by the pressure of his legs and feet on the rope.

There was a yell of delight from the audience at this feat, and Joe, turning right side up, acknowledged the ovation tendered him. Then he ran from the tent--his part in the show being over.

For a week the circus showed, moving from town to city. It was approaching the end of the season. The show would soon go into winter quarters, and the performers disperse until summer came again.

Helen had heard nothing favorable from the lawyer, and she and Joe had about given up hope of getting back the money.

The circus had reached a good-sized city in the course of its travels, and was to play there two days. On the afternoon of the first day, just before the opening of the performance, Joe went to Helen's tent to speak to her about something.

"She isn't here," Mrs. Talfo, the fat lady, told him. "She's gone."

"Gone!" echoed Joe. "Isn't she going to play this afternoon?"

"I believe not--no."

"But where did she go?"

"You'll have to ask Jim Tracy. I saw her talking to him. She seemed quite excited about something."

"I wonder if anything could have happened," mused Joe. "They couldn't have discharged her. That act's too good. But it looks funny. She wouldn't have left of her own accord without saying good-bye. I wonder what happened."

CHAPTER XXIV

JOE FOLLOWS

Some little time elapsed before Joe found a chance to speak to Jim Tracy. There had been a slight accident to one of the circus wagons in unloading from the train for that day's show, and the ring-master was kept very busy. One of the elephants was slightly hurt also.

But finally the confusion was straightened out, and our hero had a chance to ask the question that was troubling him.

"What had become of Helen?"

"Why, I don't know where she went," Jim Tracy said. "She came to me almost as soon as we got in this morning, and wanted to know if she could have the afternoon off."

"Cut out her act?" Joe asked.

"That's it. Of course I didn't want to lose her out of the show, but as long as we're going to be here two days, and considering the fact that she hadn't had a day off since the show started out this season, I said she might go. And so she went--at least I suppose she did."

"Yes, she's gone," Joe replied. "But where?"

Jim Tracy did not know and said so. He was too busy to talk much more about it.

"She'll be back in time for the evening performance--that's all I know," he told Joe.

The young trapeze' performer sought out the old clown and told him what had taken place.