Joe Strong and his wings of steel or, A young acrobat in the clouds
which extended across the whole front of the foot-rest below the
seat, and with all his might he pressed on it.
For a moment it seemed as if it was going to be of no avail. The hill
was steep at this place, and the wagon was swaying dangerously from
side to side. But the brake was of a new lever kind, and exerted
great power. The grip on the wheels soon began to tell. Slowly the
speed of the wagon slackened, though only the two horses nearest the
vehicle could put any holding-back strain on it. Joe was afraid lest
one of the animals should fall and bring the whole eight down in a
heap together. But the circus horses were sure-footed, and nothing
like that happened.
It was not until the bottom of the slope was reached that the wagon
was completely stopped, and Joe breathed more easily. He looked back
and saw coming along the moon-lit road a limping figure which he
recognized as that of Terry.
“Well, he’s alive, anyhow,” thought the lad.
“First time that ever happened to me!” the driver exclaimed as he
came up. “I never fell off a seat before. Say, boy, you brought that
team up in great shape! Only for you there would have been a bad
mess.”
“I was afraid, myself, that was going to happen,” said Joe.
“You certainly did it mighty slick,” went on Terry. “And this is one
of the hardest teams to drive in the whole show.”
“Are you hurt?” asked Joe.
“Just sprained my leg a little. But that’s nothing to what might have
happened. I’m glad you rode with me to-night.”
“So am I,” returned the lad.
It was lucky, indeed, that Joe Strong had been along, and when the
show got in in the morning and Mr. Sampson heard what had happened,
he was very grateful to the youth. Part of the main tent was in that
wagon, and had there been an accident, and had it been delayed, there
might have been much trouble.
The tents were erected and preparations made for the parade before
the train containing the show-folk arrived. Mr. Sampson’s plan of a
night road journey proved to be a good one, the runaway team being
the only thing that somewhat marred it.
The circus met with a good reception in Mortville, and it was here
that another phase of the queer tangle that seemed to involve his
English matters occurred to Joe.
The afternoon performance was over and the young circus actor was
getting ready to take Helen out for a ride on his motor-cycle when a
note was handed to him. It bore no stamp, and seemed to have come by
messenger.
“Where did you get it?” asked Joe of the circus attendant who had
handed it to him.
“A boy brought it just now.”
“Messenger boy?”
“No, just an ordinary kid.”
“Where is he?”
“He didn’t wait, though I told him there might be an answer.”
By this time Joe was reading the note. Its contents puzzled him, for
all it said was:
“If you would like to get some inside facts about your English
affairs, come to the Globe Hotel at once and ask for Perkins. But
come alone or it’s all off.”
“Humph! this is queer,” said the boy.
“What is it?” asked Helen.
Joe showed her the note.
“Are you going?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“Oh, Joe, I wouldn’t!”
“Why not?”
“This may be another trap, like the one that unfortunate Mr. Clark
set for you. Maybe it’s from him.”
“It isn’t likely,” Joe said. “He was put in the asylum and I guess he
hasn’t gotten out. Besides, this is at a public hotel here in town.
I can’t come to any harm there. I guess I’ll go and see what Mr.
Perkins has to say. You don’t mind waiting for the ride?”
“Of course not, Joe. Only do take care of yourself.”
“I will,” he promised. “And I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
The Globe Hotel was the principal hostelry in the place. It was on
the main street, and Joe soon reached it.
“Perkins?” repeated the hotel clerk when Joe asked for the name
specified in the note. “There he is over there,” and he pointed to a
man who looked as if he had just come over from England.
“Mr. Perkins?” asked Joe, questioningly.
“That’s I!” exclaimed the man, with a strong English accent. “And are
you Mr. Strong?”
Joe nodded in assent.
“I’ve got a proposition to make to you,” Perkins went on. “I’m glad
you came alone, for I don’t want my business known. If you’ll just
step in here we can have a quiet chat,” and he indicated a small
alcove off the main corridor.
Certainly there could be no danger in that, Joe thought, for he was
in plain view of the hotel clerk, and Perkins did not seem to be
anything but a harmless individual.
“What’s it all about, and why are you so mysterious?” asked Joe.
“I have to be,” was the low-voiced reply. “Now to get down to
business. If I help you get what money is coming to you from your
mother’s estate in England, will you share it with me?”
CHAPTER XXII
THE HOTEL FIRE
Joe was taken aback by the man’s strange proposition, and he plainly
showed the surprise he felt.
“Oh, it’s a straight offer!” exclaimed Perkins. “I know it may sound
a bit queer to you, but it’s done every day on the other side.”
“How did you come to be interested in my affairs?” asked Joe, wishing
to gain all the information he could.
“I have friends among the lawyers across the water,” he answered with
a grin. “They tip me off occasionally when there’s a bit to be made
on the side. And I came over here on purpose to see you and make you
an offer.”
“You came on purpose to see me?” cried Joe.
“Certainly. I was willing to spend money for a passage on the
chance of making a good sum, and there’s quite a bit due you as I
understand.”
“Yes, there is. Though how you found it out, I don’t know,” said the
youth. “But why should I share my money with you?”
“Because I’ll help you get it.”
“Can’t I get it myself?”
“I don’t think so,” the fellow replied, with a grin. “You haven’t
been getting it very fast, have you--not since the first installment?”
“Well, that’s true enough,” Joe said. “But I have taken steps to
compel a settlement which has been rather slow.”
“You’ll never be able to get a settlement on your own account,”
declared Mr. Perkins.
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t know the ropes, or all there is to be known.”
“And how do you happen to?”
“Because I’m on the inside, I tell you. Now look here, Mr. Strong!”
and the man’s manner was earnest, though he kept his voice low, and
looked over his shoulder occasionally as if he feared some one. “I
know more than I’m telling, but I’m not going to give away all my
secrets until you promise to whack up with me. If I help you collect
your money, which you can’t get any other way, you surely ought to be
willing to pay for my services.”
“I’m willing to pay for any legitimate help,” said Joe. “But what do
you mean when you ask me to ‘whack up’ as you call it?”
“Go halves, of course.”
“Halves!” cried Joe.
“Hush! Not so loud, I beg of you,” whispered the man. “Half is what
I usually get on cases like this.”
“Then this is your business--settling up disputed estates on a fifty
per cent. commission?”
“Well, it’s my profession on the side. Sometimes I get more than
half, and sometimes less. I’d have to get half in this case, to cover
my expenses.”
Joe pondered for a moment. He did not like the idea of giving up
any portion of his estate, except, perhaps, the amount the regular
lawyers would charge. But then it might be better to take up this
fellow’s offer in order to get a quick settlement, he reflected.
“Though I’ll not give him half, or even a quarter,” decided the boy.
“Well, what about it?” Perkins asked, a bit impatiently.
“I’ll consider the matter,” Joe replied, “and let you know later what
I’ll do about it. Just now I----”
“Joe!” interrupted a voice behind him, “excuse me but a cablegram
came for you and I brought it here, thinking it might be urgent.”
Joe looked up to see Benny Turton standing near him. Perkins also saw
Joe’s friend, and an angry look came over the man’s face.
“I told you it would be all off if you brought any one with you!” the
Englishman cried, ignoring the fact that Joe had not brought Benny,
who had come in later, and unexpectedly. “Now the game’s up! I won’t
have any dealings with you!”
And the man, without further ceremony, rushed from the place, leaving
Benny and Joe staring after him in surprise.
“Well, what ailed him?” asked Benny.
“He seemed afraid of you,” his chum answered.
“I never saw him before in my life that I know of,” returned Benny.
“Then he didn’t want any third party to hear what he was saying. It’s
a queer game, Ben. I’ll tell you about it in a minute, but first I
must read the cablegram.”
“I thought maybe you might want it,” went on Benny, “and as Helen
said you were here on some business connected with your English
estate, I came on. Maybe the cablegram has to do with it.”
“It has,” Joe answered. “It’s from the lawyer who did such good work
for me at first. He has agreed to take it up again, and he’s going to
get right after this Mr. Bolling, who, I begin to think, is something
of an incompetent, if not a scoundrel.”
“And who was this fellow, Joe?”
“Well, I didn’t get very far toward finding out, he ran off so
suddenly. But he made me a queer offer. I should like to have a
chance to talk more with him. I must ask the clerk about him.”
But the clerk knew very little of Mr. Perkins beyond the fact that
he had come to the hotel that day, and did not seem to have any
particular business. He had a cheap room, near the roof, and had said
he would probably remain only a day or two.
Joe and Benny looked about the hotel for him, but Mr. Perkins
appeared to have taken himself off, though why he should have
fled so suddenly, just because Benny spoke to Joe, was beyond the
comprehension of both young men.
Joe told his friend the whole story of Mr. Perkins, deciding it would
be best to have a witness in case of proceedings later.
“Well, it certainly was a queer game,” said Benny. “Do you think he
could be in with Bolling?”
“He didn’t mention his name. But he certainly knew some inside facts
about my affairs.”
“Do you think you’ll have any dealings with him?”
“I might, Benny, if I can’t get my money any other way. But he will
have to modify his terms. Fifty per cent. is too high.”
“I should say so! But before you do anything, why don’t you wait and
see what this other lawyer can do? The one who sent the cablegram. He
may help you.”
“I guess I will wait. Much obliged to you for bringing it to me.
Well, I guess Mr. Perkins isn’t going to show up around here right
away, so we may as well go back to the circus. I promised to take
Helen for a ride.”
“I notice you don’t take Miss Tyndall any more,” said Benny, with a
mischievous smile.
“No, I guess it’s safer not to,” laughed Joe. “I like her, but--well,
you know how it is.”
“I guess so,” agreed Benny, with a broader smile on his face.
It had been the plan that the circus should stay only one day in this
city, but on getting back to the grounds Benny and Joe found a change
had been made in the arrangements. Word had been received that at the
next stopping place a big fair was in progress which would probably
interfere with the attendance at the Sampson Brothers’ Show. And as
there was still a large population to draw from in Mortville, it was
decided to remain over night, and to give two shows and the usual
parade the next day.
“Well, that suits me,” said Joe. “I’ll have another chance to have a
talk with Perkins.”
“How do you suppose he found you?” asked Helen, to whom Joe told what
had happened.
“He said he came over from London on purpose. Of course the lawyers
there have my address, and lately I sent them a complete schedule,
stating where the circus would be every day. So Perkins must have