Joe Strong and his wings of steel or, A young acrobat in the clouds
And then, there being nothing further Joe could do, he decided to
ride over on his motor-cycle that afternoon to visit some of his
circus friends.
CHAPTER III
A SETBACK
Preparations for giving the evening performance of the circus were
under way when Joe arrived. He left his motor-cycle with one of the
men he knew and then proceeded to look for Helen, Benny or some
others of his friends. Benny was on his way to the dining tent, but
as Joe saw Helen at the same time that he had a glimpse of the human
fish, it can be imagined in which direction the lad walked. Ben
called to him, however:
“Well, did you cable your lawyer to hustle that money over to you
right away, and quit fooling?”
“I wish I could have done that,” Joe answered, “but I wrote him a
stiff letter.”
“Good!” exclaimed Ben. “See you later. Will you come over and have a
bite?”
“Not now, thanks.”
Joe greeted Helen with a smile.
“I see you are still alive,” she murmured as she shook hands with him.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” asked Joe, with a puzzled look.
“Well, I didn’t know, from what Ben and Bill told me, but that you
might be trying to fly over to see us, and if you did you might have
fallen on the way.”
“Not quite so bad as that, Helen.”
“Joe, are you really going to trust yourself to those wings of steel?”
“I am, if I can get them to work.”
“You’ll use a life-net, won’t you, as you did in your motor-cycle
act?”
“I can’t very well. You see I expect to cover a good bit of space
when I fly up and soar around, and it would have to be a pretty big
net to catch me if I fell.”
“But what if you do fall, Joe?” and Helen seemed quite anxious.
“Oh, I’m not going to fall,” he told the pretty bareback rider. “I’ve
faith enough in my machine for that. But it isn’t in working order
yet. Now let’s talk about yourself. How are you, and how is the nice
horse?” for Helen had a steed named Rosebud, of which she was very
fond, as was Joe.
“Oh, Rosebud is all right. I’m just on my way to give him his sugar
allowance. Want to come with me?”
“I most certainly do.”
A little later Helen and Joe were in the animal tent, and Rosebud was
rubbing his velvety muzzle first against the youth and then against
Helen’s hand, as she fed him the lumps of sugar.
“That’s his reward for being good to-day,” Helen said with a smile.
“I never had him act better in the ring, and I put him through some
new tricks for the first time in public this afternoon, too.”
“That’s nice. How is the show going, by the way?”
Helen paused a moment before replying. Then she said:
“Well, Joe, to tell you the truth, it isn’t going as well as it did
when you were with it last season.”
“Is that so? I hope my leaving didn’t have anything to do with it,
Helen.”
“Well, we miss you, of course; but you see we’re on a new circuit,
and playing in sections of the country where there isn’t such a large
population as we’re used to. We’re not getting the crowds we are in
the habit of playing to, and I think the management is beginning to
feel it.”
“Is Jim Tracy worried?” asked Joe, referring to his good friend, the
ring-master, who was one of the owners of the show.
“Yes, I think he is. We all are, in fact, for of course our salaries
depend on the money the circus takes in. I’m better off than some,
for you know I have my little inheritance from grandfather’s estate
to fall back on. But some of the performers haven’t saved anything,
and if the show fails----”
“Oh, it won’t do that!” interrupted Joe quickly. “Can’t Jim change
the route so as to get into a better section of the country?”
“He’s thought of that, he told me. But the trouble is that the other
good routes are taken up by other circuses, and you know it isn’t
much use to follow a show in a city.”
“That’s right,” Joe admitted. “Once the small boy and his sister have
seen one show in a season, dad or mother isn’t going to give them
money for a second peep, no matter how much Johnny and Mary want to
go.”
“That’s it,” agreed Helen, as she patted Rosebud. “So you see there
isn’t much of anything that can be done except to keep on and hope
for better audiences. That’s one reason why I put Rosebud into a new
act. I wanted to make a thriller. I hoped it would draw a crowd.”
“And has it?”
“It hasn’t had a chance for a good test yet. This is the first day.”
“Is it a thriller?”
“I’ll let you judge of that, if you’re going to stay for the night
show.”
“Yes, I am. I’ll see you then, Helen.”
A little later Joe, after visiting with some of the circus men, went
to supper with Helen.
Torches were glowing, and the “barkers” out in front of the side
show were bawling out the attractions within. Inside the big tents
(the one where the animals were exhibited, and the “main top” where
the performance took place) the portable gasoline-incandescent lights
were aglow. Helen had gone to her dressing room, and Joe stood about
watching the crowds approaching, for the hour of the night show was
at hand.
“It isn’t going to be a very good crowd,” mused Joe, as he estimated
the numbers in the throng. “I guess they’re doing about a fourth
less business than when I was with them. Not that my act made all
the difference,” he told himself with a smile. “It must be, as Helen
says, that they’re on a poor route. Well, I’ll go inside and see
what’s happening.”
Joe knew the ticket taker at the entrance, who passed him in with a
nod, saying:
“If you don’t look out, Joe, we’ll be after you to be with us again.”
“You’ll have to wait until I get my new act worked up,” Joe answered
with a smile.
With a burst of music and with flares from the trumpets, the grand
entry was made; then later, as the camels, horses and elephants filed
out, the gaily clad men and women performers ran in to do their acts.
Joe looked over to where the Lascalla Brothers, a troupe of trapeze
performers, were flying through the air, somersaulting and doing all
manner of tricks. Joe’s first appearance in circus work had been with
this team, the members of which were “brothers” in name only.
“I wouldn’t mind doing a few stunts on the bars or rings,” said the
youth to himself, as he watched his former partners. “I think I’ll
try it in private. Nothing like keeping one’s arms and legs supple.
There is no telling when I might need to do some of the stunts I used
to do. If I get my wings of steel to work, trapeze practice will be
just the thing for me.”
Joe turned to look at Benny Turton, who was performing tricks in a
tank of water, while in another tank, built around the first in such
a way as to make it appear to be but one big glass box, swam a number
of goldfish. A trained seal, Lizzie, performed with Ben.
“Here’s what I want to see!” Joe exclaimed, as Helen came daintily
into the ring, an attendant leading her horse, Rosebud. And then the
girl in whom Joe was so greatly interested went through her act with
her well-trained steed. Toward the close Helen made a flying leap
from a pedestal to the back of Rosebud while the horse was going at
a good rate of speed. It was a dangerous act, but it brought forth a
round of applause.
“How did you like it, Joe?” asked Helen, after the show when there
was time to talk. “Was it thrilling enough?”
“Too much so, Helen,” said Joe gravely. “I don’t like you to do that
last jump.”
“Why not? I’ve been practising it for ever so long. To-day is the
first time I have used it, and, as I said, we simply must put on a
more thrilling show or the people won’t come to see us.”
“I know. But you might fall and be hurt.”
“So might you, on your motor-cycle or your wings of steel--more
especially on the wings of steel. If it’s risky for me, Joe, it’s
risky for you, and I couldn’t be hurt half as much as you could, for
I wouldn’t fall far.”
“I know, Helen. But I wish you’d give up that jump.”
“Do you, really, Joe?” and she looked at him earnestly.
“I certainly do!” he exclaimed with emphasis. “If you were hurt,
Helen, I would----”
Joe did not finish, but Helen knew what he meant.
“I can’t give up that stunt, Joe,” she said. “But I’ll promise to be
very careful--that is if you do the same.”
“I will, Helen. Let’s shake on it!”
“All right,” she agreed laughingly, and if the boy held her hand
longer than was really necessary for a bargain-binding clasp, who is
going to find fault with him?
Joe did not care to ride back the ten miles to his boarding place
near the apparatus factory after dark on his motor-cycle, so he
stayed at a hotel in the city where the circus was playing. In the
morning he called to say good-bye to Helen.
“I want to get back and see if my motors for the wings of steel have
arrived,” he told the girl.
“When shall I see you again?” she asked him.
“The first chance I get. I’ll be able to ride over when you show in
Millville, I think.”
“Do,” she urged.
“And be careful about your jump,” called Joe.
“I will,” she promised.
It was three days after this that the motors for which Joe had been
waiting arrived at the factory. Then followed a busy time while
he and Mr. Brader’s men attached them to the wings of steel, and
connected them to the small but powerful storage batteries inside the
framework.
“There!” Joe exclaimed, “my machine is done, all but some finishing
touches which have nothing to do with the power to mount into the
air. I’m going to give it a trial.”
“Are you going up in it yourself?” asked Mr. Brader.
“Not the first time. I’ll set it going without taking my place inside
the framework. I’ll have a rope fastened to it so it can’t get away,
and I’ll attach a spring balance to see how much upward pull it
registers. If it lifts itself and pulls enough pounds to represent my
weight, I’ll know it’s a success.”
“That’s a good way to test it,” said Mr. Brader.
The test came off the next day in the same lot outside the factory
where Joe had given his motor-cycle-wire act its initial test.
The wings of steel were rather uncanny looking, some of the men
thought, for they seemed like a great bat or some prehistoric
monster. With Joe in the contrivance it would appear even more
striking and odd. But he was not yet going to trust himself to it.
The device was brought out, and preliminary tests made of the motors
and batteries.
“Well, everything seems to be all right,” the young inventor
announced. “Now for the real test.”
A rope was made fast to the “_Bat_,” as Joe had christened his wings
of steel. This rope was to prevent its soaring off, on the same
principle that a captive balloon is held to earth. To the motors was
attached a long wire with a switch connection. This was so arranged
that Joe could turn on the power, the _Bat_ would rise, trailing
the wire after it, and Joe could shut off the current any time he
desired. As he would not be in the _Bat_ to steer it, he set the
rudders to guide the craft up on a gentle slant, and out away from
the factory. Also there was a spring balance to test the pull of the
machine.
“Here she goes!” cried the lad, as he turned the switch.
There was a hum as the motors received the current from the storage
battery, and the great wings flapped up and down, slowly at first,
and then more rapidly as Joe turned on more current.
“She’s going up!” cried Mr. Brader.
The _Bat_ left the ground a little way. Joe looked at the spring
scale, and his face showed disappointment. He turned on the power
full, but the _Bat_ did not rise any higher, and as the boy read the
pull exerted, he said:
“Only fifty pounds! Not a third enough. Something is wrong!”
And even as he spoke the wings of steel fell back to the ground with
a crash of metal.
CHAPTER IV