Back and forth, around and around, up and down, turning, somersaulting and doing all manner of swimming went Joe and Lizzie.

"I couldn't have a better act unless I got a real live mermaid to perform with me," Joe decided, as Lizzie shot up out of the water to breathe.

Joe did not know the length of time the sea-lion could stay under water without breathing. Doubtless she could rival him, but she never did--at least, in the gla.s.s tank. A minute seemed to be her limit of endurance, though Joe had no means of making an accurate decision.

At any rate, the act was a big success, and Joe had to bow and bow again to the applause as he came out after his endurance test. This time he made it four minutes and eleven seconds, a gain of one, and he ascribed his better lung power to motor-cycle riding in the open air.

"Good work! Good!" was Jim Tracy's compliment at the conclusion of the performance.

"I'm glad to hear him say that," said the boy fish. "It will make it easier to ask for more money, for that's what I'm going to do."

When the mail was distributed just before supper, there was a letter for Joe.

"h.e.l.lo! This is too bad!" Joe exclaimed as he read the note.

"What is it?" asked Helen.

"Bad news," Joe answered. "There isn't any hope for Benny after all!"

CHAPTER XIX

HELEN'S SOLUTION

Helen read the letter which Joe held out to her. It confirmed the news the boy fish had given. The note was from the physician who had first attended Benny in the circus tent, and stated that though originally it was hoped an operation would prevent the youth from becoming permanently deaf and dumb, such hope now had to be abandoned.

The physician went into the particulars of the case in writing to Joe, who, it seemed, had left word that he wished to be informed as to Benny's progress. It was his belief that the long continued practice of Benny in staying under water had brought on a disease of the ears and throat.

"I thought it would be comparatively easy to operate on him, or get some surgeon better qualified than I to do it," wrote the hospital doctor. "But, after a consultation, we have decided that it would be dangerous, and so, as far as we can see, there is no hope for your friend. He will not die--in fact, he is much stronger than he was--but he will be unable to speak or hear. He will write you himself shortly, he indicated to me. Just at present he is too down-hearted to do so."

"Poor fellow," murmured Helen, sympathetically, "I should think he would be. Isn't it just perfectly terrible, Joe?"

"It certainly is hard luck!"

"Can't anything be done?"

"I don't see what," was the moody answer. "I was planning to--oh, well, no matter."

"Go on, tell me," Helen urged.

Joe shook his head.

"No. There isn't any use now," he said. "I--I can't do what I intended to, that's all. Poor Benny."

"Yes; poor Benny," echoed Helen.

The sad news concerning the "human fish" soon spread among the circus folk, and much sympathy was expressed for Benny Turton. A movement was started to get up a purse for him, and a small sum was raised. Circus performers do not get the big salaries which theatrical stars are credited with, and, in addition, most of those with the Sampson Brothers' Show had families to support. Then, too, the circus was not one of the big ones. So, all told, not much was done for the youth in the hospital.

Helen and Joe each wrote him a letter, encouraging him as much as they could, but they both knew that the first sudden shock of hearing the bad news must wear off from Benny's mind before he could begin to be reconciled to it.

"Well, it isn't as bad as going blind," remarked Helen with a sigh.

"That would be too terrible! Benny can still have the pleasure of reading and seeing things."

"Yes, his case might be worse," admitted Joe. He seemed in a thoughtful mood, and more than once that evening Helen surprised him in a deep study.

"What are you thinking of, Joe?" she finally asked.

"Oh, nothing--that is, nothing that seems to get me anywhere," he answered.

But if the news from Benny was saddening, Joe had plenty of other matters to make him rejoice, and the princ.i.p.al one was that the trained seal was such a success in the tank act. For Lizzie certainly shared the honors with Joe, and the boy fish was contemplating elaborating the act. He thought of having the seal do a series of juggling and other tricks on a platform near the tank, either before or after the under-water work.

"But I guess we'd better wait until next season for that," said Jim Tracy when Joe spoke of it. "You see every act is timed now to occupy just so much of the programme. If I should give you more than twice the time you now have I'd have to cut some one else, and no one would like that."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want that," Joe declared. As it was, there was plenty of professional jealousy directed toward him, and he did not want to arouse more by encroaching on the time of some other performer.

"I could cut out all of your trapeze work," went on the ring-master, "but I don't want to do that. We haven't any too many good trapezists."

"Thanks," said Joe. "I wouldn't want to give up the bar and rope work, either. I guess I'll wait until next season to give Lizzie a larger part in the act."

Joe did not want to give up his trapeze work for several reasons, one being that it kept him in trim for a certain hazy plan he had in mind.

Joe was a youth on whom great heights made no impression. He felt fully as safe on the dizzy height of some church steeple as he did on the ground.

There are some persons who have a morbid fear of looking down from any great height, and who always refuse to ascend a high place or to look down from the top of a tall building.

There is another cla.s.s of people who are really made temporarily insane when looking from a great height and have an almost irresistible inclination to throw themselves down. There is a complicated medical term which is applied to this disease, for a disease it is. Such persons should never look down from great heights.

But, fortunately, Joe was not in this cla.s.s. He did not in the least mind climbing high up into the air, with even a frail support. And it was his trapeze work that kept him in good trim for this sort of daring, so Joe did not want to give it up.

The tank act, with Lizzie, the seal, in it, was made one of the big features of the circus. Jim Tracy had new bills printed showing Joe and Lizzie apparently having a fine time under water. The posters were large and in gay colors, and Joe's name was featured, to the envy of many others in the circus.

Not a few were the sneers cast at Joe on more than one occasion, when he declined to take part in some jollification, and remarks were made about his being a miser and a "tight-wad."

But Joe did not seem to care. He drew his salary regularly, and as he was not known to gamble or to have other noticeably bad habits, there was considerable speculation as to what he did with his money.

"He doesn't send any to his folks, for he hasn't any folks," said Tonzo Lascalla. "He told me so. His foster father is well off, and doesn't need any cash from Joe, and he hasn't any other relatives, except maybe some in England he never heard of."

"Maybe he's saving to hire a lawyer to get his English fortune for him," suggested Sid Lascalla.

"Maybe," agreed his partner.

But, as a matter of fact, Joe had about given up hope of ever hearing anything favorable from England. His inquiries had come to naught, though Bill Watson insisted that Janet Willoughby, which was Mrs.

Strong's name before her marriage, came from a wealthy and aristocratic family.

The circus moved on from town to town, and Joe was more and more satisfied with his purchase of the trained seal. Lizzie in the tank with Joe was certainly an added attraction. The seal seemed to like the under-water work as much as Joe did. She ate her fish as Joe ate his bananas, and was a pretty sight as she cavorted around in the water with the boy fish swimming by her side.

Joe took frequent rides on his motor-cycle, Helen often accompanying him, and when one day he found he was able to stay under water for four minutes and twenty seconds he ascribed his success to his swift riding in the open air.