Joe practised faithfully, for he had made up his mind that this was a good time to try to make a new under-water record--that is, new for him.

"If I can't get an elephant, or something big like that, to work in the water with me, I'll have to thrill the crowds by making them wonder how I can live so long without breathing," decided Joe. "I'll do four minutes or--bust!" and he smiled at his conceit.

Joe finished his breathing exercises. In them he made an attempt to hold a full breath for four minutes. This he did, timing himself with his watch. But this, of course, was in the open air, and under water conditions were different.

"If I can only do that in the tank," thought Joe, as he noted the second hand slip five paces beyond the four minute mark, "I'll be all right. Well, I'm going to make a big effort."

Helen came back, and she and Joe went to breakfast. They sat not far from Tonzo and Sid Lascalla, and the former, looking over at Joe, asked:

"When are we going to have that supper?"

"I can't say," Joe answered, trying to be jolly about it.

"What supper is that?" inquired Helen, smiling at Joe.

"Oh, it's one he's going to give to celebrate his increase in salary,"

answered Tonzo.

Helen looked at Joe, and became aware, from the expression of his face, that there was a hidden meaning in the words. She saw that Joe was embarra.s.sed and so she turned the conversation. Later on, when Helen and Joe were alone, the young aquatic performer said:

"I suppose you are wondering what Tonzo was driving at?"

"Oh, I don't want to hear any secrets," Helen answered.

"It isn't a secret," Joe answered. "At least my increase in salary isn't, for I told you about it. What Tonzo was hinting at was that I ought to give some sort of banquet."

"Why?" Helen demanded.

"Oh, because I'm getting so much money. Well, I suppose I am earning big pay, but, as I claim, I'm doing big work--that is double work. But I'm not going to waste my money on blow-outs."

"I don't blame you," Helen said. "Don't let them worry you, Joe."

The time of the afternoon performance arrived. Everything went off well except that in one elaborate elephant trick one of the huge beasts refused to do his share in the act.

His trainer endeavored to force the big brute, and the elephant grew ugly. It looked for a few seconds as if he would run out of the ring and into the crowd. But two of the more tractable elephants were ordered to force the unruly one into line and they did so.

This caused a little delay, and there was a slight feeling as of panic in the audience. The elephants were near Joe's tank, and for a while the boy fish was afraid lest they knock it over and smash it. In this case there would be a serious delay in getting another, though one spare gla.s.s side was always carried.

"And I don't want anything to happen when I'm going to try to make a record," Joe thought.

He had said nothing to Jim Tracy about the attempt he was going to make, preferring not to have the public expect too much through an announcement by the ring-master.

Joe did his usual work, swimming about in the midst of the shimmering goldfish, showing different strokes, turning graceful somersaults and doing a longitudinal whirl that made him look like the propeller of some water craft.

Then Joe performed his tricks, those with the celluloid cards seeming especially to please the audience.

"Mr. Strong will now show you how long it is possible for him to stay under water," announced the ring-master, "and if any of you think it is an easy thing to do, just take out your watches and time him, holding your own breaths as long as does the boy fish. We challenge the world to produce his equal!"

The band blared as Joe made his bow, and then, having inflated his lungs to their capacity, he slipped into the tank, and began "eating."

This was one of the tricks he did to keep the audience amused while the seconds of his underwater endurance were ticked off. It would have been rather monotonous for the crowd merely to look at Joe staying in the tank. He must keep up some kind of action. Then, too, when he was busy, it kept his mind from thinking of the pa.s.sage of time, and the four minutes, or whatever part of them he remained under the surface, seemed to pa.s.s more quickly.

Finally he had done the last of his "water stuff," he had eaten the banana, had pretended to drain his cup of tea and then, yawning and stretching, he prepared for a "nap" under water.

"Now comes the real test!" thought Joe grimly.

Already he was beginning to feel the strain. His temples were throbbing from the retained breath and the water pressure, and his head felt big and stuffy. It was aching, too. Joe had placed outside the tank an alarm clock with big figures so he could keep track of the time. Three minutes and a half had pa.s.sed, and Joe knew that every second, from now on, would be agony for him, agony that the watching crowd little suspected.

"Can I do it?" thought Joe. The hand was within ten seconds of the four-minute mark. Joe, who had opened his eyes for a brief glance at the clock, shut them again. His heart was beating like a hammer inside his chest, trying to make up for the lack of oxygenated blood.

To Joe it seemed as if fifteen seconds had pa.s.sed, He gave a swift glance at the clock.

"Only six," he thought. "I'm afraid I can't do it."

To make a complete four minutes he must stay under water four seconds more, and seconds, now, were like hours to him.

There was a ringing in his ears. His head throbbed painfully, he began to yawn and stretch again, as though awakening from a sleep. He looked up and saw Jim Tracy peering anxiously down into the tank. The ring-master realized that this was longer than Joe had ever stayed under water before, and he thought perhaps something had gone wrong, as it had in the case of Benny. The ring-master was calling off the half minutes to the crowd, in which many were holding watches.

A few had tried to imitate Joe's feat, but had given it up as a hopeless task.

"The boy fish has now been under water, without breathing, four minutes, ladies and gentlemen!'" cried the ring-master. "He has beaten his own record!"

It was indeed true. But still Joe did not come up. He was fighting for time now--fighting for fractions of a second. He felt as if he would burst, but he did not come up. He saw, by his clock, that he had stayed under four minutes. A second pa.s.sed--two--three--and still Joe was under water. Then he could not stand it longer. He had come close to the world's second best record at that.

Four seconds--five--and at the last tick of the five seconds over the four minutes, Joe shot up to the surface. He tried not to show his exhaustion as he climbed, dripping wet, out on to the platform and bowed to the plaudits of the enthusiastic crowd, but it was hard work for Joe to keep up. He did it, however.

"Good work, old man!" cried the ring-master as he helped put the bath robe about Joe. "Great work! How'd you do it?"

"Oh--I--I just did it!" panted Joe, breathing in deeply of the life-giving air.

"You didn't tell me you were going to pull off a stunt like that."

"I--I didn't know, myself, whether or not I could do it," said Joe, as he started for his dressing room. "And I didn't want a failure."

"Good boy!" said Jim. "I guess I didn't make any mistake raising your salary, Joe!"

"If you'll give me more money I'll try for a better record yet," said the boy fish with a smile.

"Say, what are you trying to do--become a millionaire?" asked the ring-master, jokingly.

"Oh, I can always use more money," replied Joe.

As he came down to the ground he saw Tonzo Lascalla looking at him. The trapeze performer had heard what Joe said last.

"We don't see much of your money," he commented, with a sneer.

"Why should you?" asked Joe, pa.s.sing on.