There was a stir inside the sleeping car, for most of the occupants were now awake.

"For the love of Mike!" grumbled Tom Jefferson, the strong man. "Can't they let a person get his sleep? Are they giving a private rehearsal out there, or what's going on?"

"I guess some of the animals are loose," said Joe, "though it doesn't seem to be serious."

More shouts, mingled with laughter, seemed to testify to this view of it.

"I'm going out to see what it is," decided Joe. He looked off toward the east. A faint glow there told that dawn was beginning to break, though it was still very dark. "I've had enough sleep," Joe reasoned, "and I can't get any more with all that racket going on under my car window."

He quickly dressed and went out, he alone of those in his car caring to see what the trouble was. The rest of the circus men preferred to turn over for a possible "forty winks" more.

As Joe was making his way toward the place where he could see a crowd of men about some central object, he heard a voice calling to him from one of the windows of the sleeping car occupied by the women of the circus troupe.

"What has happened?" some one asked. "Is it a wreck?"

"No, nothing as bad as that, I guess, Helen," Joe replied, recognizing the tones of the pretty trick rider. "Some of the animals seem to be out. I'm going to see."

"Come back and tell me about it. I hope it isn't one of the cats."

"So do I," Joe said. "But I don't believe it is. I'll let you know."

Circus folk and animal men in general speak of lions, tigers and other beasts of the feline tribe as "cats," and elephants, camels, horses and their like are known in show parlance as "hay animals," because hay is their principal fodder.

Joe hurried on to the crowd gathered about one of the flat cars.

"Look out! He's loose again!" came the yell, and Joe saw the crowd part, and a big ungainly animal come charging through.

"It's the hippopotamus!" cried Joe. "The big brute is loose!"

The big animal, the "blood-sweating behemoth of Holy Writ," as it is sometimes called on the circus bills, was out of his tank wagon, and seemed to enjoy his liberty.

"Look out there!" some one in the crowd yelled to Joe. "If he stamps on you there won't be anything left of you."

"I guess that'll be true enough," thought Joe. For the hippopotamus weighed nearly two tons, being one of the largest specimens in captivity.

On came the big beast, now and then opening its huge mouth, as Joe could see in the light that was beginning to break. Some of the crowd of men came rushing after the hippopotamus with ropes, but the animal moved faster than one would suppose a creature of his bulk could travel.

"Stop him! Stop him, somebody!" came a voice. "If he gets on the track an engine may hit him!"

That, Joe knew, would be a serious loss. For the animal was valuable, having cost the Sampson Brothers four thousand dollars originally, and his value had increased. Joe remembered hearing that Jumbo, the big elephant, many years ago, had been struck by an engine and killed, his skeleton now being in the American Museum of Natural History in New York.

"Get him! Get him!" begged the head animal man.

"I wish I could!" thought Joe.

As he moved to get out of the way of the beast the young acrobat stumbled over a coil of rope which had been used to let some of the heavy wagons down the gangplank off the flat cars.

"If I could only lasso him with the rope it might stop him," thought Joe. "But I don't know how to manage a lasso, even if I could tie a noose in this rope. And I don't see how one lassoes a hippo anyhow. However, here goes! I'll do the best I can. Maybe I can tangle his feet up in the kinks of the rope so he'll fall."

Joe caught up the rope, and, without trying to straighten out the coils, threw it at the big animal, which was opposite him, Joe having leaped to one side. And he did by accident what the circus men had for some time been trying to do by design. He threw coils of the rope about the short legs of the "river horse" and down went the hippopotamus with a thud.

"That's the stuff! Good work!" cried the animal's keeper. "Quick now, boys! Rope him!"

Before the beast could get up he was pounced upon by a crowd of the animal men and securely bound with ropes.

"Whew!" exclaimed the keeper, as he faced Joe in the now gray dawn of the morning, "that was some work!"

"How did he get loose?" Joe asked.

"The bottom dropped out of his wagon. Must have been rotten. He dropped with it and started off on his own hook. He walked all over a lot of us while we were trying to corner him."

"Walked on us! Say, he danced a jig on my stomach!" complained Bill Dudley, one of the animal men, as he came limping up. "Have you got him safe?"

"Yes," replied the keeper.

"Well, don't let him get loose again. He almost made a pancake of me!"

The circus men now led the subdued beast to temporary quarters until his own cage could be repaired, and the work of unloading the rest of the circus was proceeded with.

"Is it all right?" Helen asked Joe, as he walked back to his car.

"Yes. The excitement is all over. It was the hippo," and he told what had taken place.

"And you caught him?" asked Helen.

"Oh, it was just luck," said Joe modestly. "I didn't take any chances, you may be sure."

"Maybe he thought you were a friend of his, because you work in a tank, too," laughed Helen, for the wagon in which the hippopotamus was kept was in two parts, one end being a tank for water.

"Maybe," agreed Joe. And at that laughing speech there came to mind a matter he knew must be settled. What would be done about Benny's tank act? The question would come up that day.

Breakfast was served to the circus folk in the big tent, which had been put up in advance. The earliest arrivals at the circus ground are the tent men, the cooks with their big stoves on heavy wagons, and the animals. So that when the performers get up they generally find a hot breakfast ready for them.

After the meal Joe strolled across the lot, watching the men at work. Some of them were gathered about the wagon containing the glass tank in which Benny, the "human fish," had done his act.

"You needn't open that," said Jim Tracy, who was already around, looking after his many duties. "We won't set up the tank."

"Why not?" asked one of the men.

"Because Benny isn't with us any more. We'll have to cut out the fish act."

Joe Strong heard this, and came to a sudden decision—and yet not so sudden, either, for he had given it considerable thought.

"Look here, Mr. Tracy," he said. "I don't believe we'll have to give up the tank act after all."

"Why not?"

"Well, can't I do it well enough?"

"Oh, it isn't a question of that, Joe. You sure did make a hit with it. But I thought you'd rather keep at your trapeze work."

"So I would—for a while at any rate. But why can't I do part of the trapeze act, and the rest of my stunts in the tank? I like it. I'm sure I can do better the more practice I have. I'll make you that offer—to do the tank act and as much of my trapeze work as I have time for. What do you say?"

"Why, I guess I'll say 'yes,'" replied the ring-master. "I only thought you were doing it to fill in at our opening engagement; to prevent the public's howling, Joe. But if you want to keep on with it, why, I'm willing, and thankful too."

"All right, I'll do it!" decided Joe.

"Good! Unpack the tank, boys!" cried Jim Tracy. "Set her up and fill her with water. We'll have a 'boy fish' act after all!"

CHAPTER VIII

EXPERIMENTS

Since Joe Strong had decided that he would make of the tank act a better performance than had been possible the first two days of the opening of the circus season, he now resolved to watch the setting up of the big glass box. Joe wanted to learn all he could about the accessories of the act, for he had some new ideas he intended to put into effect if he found that he could succeed in the new work that had come to him by accident.

"Perhaps I can get up a new idea in regard to dressing the act," thought Joe. "If I can, it may take even better than it has, and I can hold the public with me until I can develop my lung power and stay under an even four minutes, or perhaps longer."

To "dress an act" means, in stage language, to set up the scenery and to wear certain costumes, in other words the external fittings that serve to make the act more or less spectacular.

Some acts are "dressed" very simply. That is, there may be only a simple room scene, with a table or chair. Then the actor depends on his action or his "lines" to make an impression on the public.

Another act may be a very showy one with elaborate fittings and expensive costumes, and in this case, as a rule, the acting proper and the lines are not of so much importance.

In Joe's case he had no "lines," or spoken words, to attract the attention of his audience. It is hard to make the voice carry in a big circus tent, and even an accomplished ring-master often fails in this respect. Of course in Joe's case he could not talk under water, and aside from the introduction on the part of Jim Tracy there were no "lines."

"But I have an idea," mused Joe, "that I could dress the act differently from Benny's performance. He had it a little too plain. I don't know just what I want, but it's got to be something different. I'm going to experiment."

Of course there was no time that day to make changes. Already it was nearly time for the parade to be formed on the circus grounds. Joe, as well as several of the other performers, did not go in the parade, for they had to get ready the special apparatus connected with their acts. In Joe's case, he had to look after his trapezes, and now, in addition, the tank, in order to make sure that all was in proper shape. Of course there were men whose duties were to see to these things for the performers, but Joe took no chances—he supervised everything himself very carefully, as did Tonzo and Sid Lascalla.

For when one's life depends on the strength of a wooden bar or on the firmness of a rope, it behooves one to look well to the apparatus.

In regard to the tank, of course, there was comparatively little danger, even should one of the glass sides break or a leak occur. The worst would be that the water would escape and the act be spoiled. But Joe did not want that to happen, so he carefully watched the men as they took out the parts of the tank and began fitting them together on the raised platform where Joe's act would occur.

A supply of white sand for the bottom of the tank was carried with the glass box. When the water was drained off it after the night performance, the sand was put in a box to be used over again.

Joe watched the men slip the big sheets of heavy plate glass into the metal holding strips at the corners of the tank and tighten up the rubber water-proof fittings. Then the sand was spread over the bottom, the steps, by which Joe reached a little platform on the edge of the water-filled tank, were put in place, and the act was nearly "set."

"Well, I guess I can't do much more with it now," thought Joe as he saw the tank completed. "I'd better see about my trapezes."

As he crossed to another part of the tent he saw Helen giving some orders about a few pieces of apparatus she used in her tricks with Rosebud.

"Well, Joe," asked the girl, "you haven't caught any more hippos, have you?"

"No, Helen, one a day is enough. How is everything with you?"

"All right. I'm going to give Rosebud his sugar."

"I'll walk along with you. I'm going to see about my trapezes."

"Oh, aren't you going to do the tank act? I thought I saw the men setting it up."

"You did. I'm going to do a double turn—at least for a while."

"Good luck to you!"

Joe's trapeze work was simpler now that he had added the underwater feature to his circus acts, and it did not take him long to see that the bars, ropes and rings were in perfect condition, all fastenings secure and made so they would not slip when the strain from a long swinging jump came on them.

Then, having a little time on his hands before he would have to go on for the afternoon show, Joe went in to town, to stroll about. The place was filled with country visitors who had come in to see the circus, this being the center of a thriving farming community. Joe, going into a drug store to get an ice cream soda, saw in the window of an establishment next door a large aquarium, in which goldfish were swimming about amid long, waving, green aquatic grass.

"There's my idea!" exclaimed Joe, aloud. "Or one of them, anyhow."

"Did you speak to me?" asked an old gentleman, who was just coming out of the drug store as Joe went in.

"No, sir. I beg your pardon. I just thought of something."

"Oh, I see," and with a smile the gentleman passed on, while Joe, still thinking deeply, went in to get his soda.

"Well?" asked the clerk, suggestively, as Joe paused at the marble fountain.

"I'll have a goldfish sundae," said Joe, reflectively.

"What? Say, come again, young fellow! This isn't a joke shop," and the clerk seemed rather angry.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," Joe hastened to say. "I mean a chocolate nut sundae. I was thinking of goldfish—that's all."

"That's different," laughed the clerk. "I thought you were trying to jolly me with the name of a new drink."

And while Joe ate his cream his thoughts were busy with the idea which had suddenly come to him.

"I wonder if Jim Tracy will stand for it," he mused. "I've a good notion to do it without asking him. If he doesn't like it he can say so, and no great harm's done. I'll stand the expense myself. If I could get hold of the inheritance Bill Watson thinks ought to come to me through my mother, I'd pull off a still bigger stunt in this tank act. But I guess I'll never get any money from England."

So far Joe's efforts to prove that he was entitled to anything from his mother's estate had been unavailing.

"Yes," thought our hero, as he finished his cream and went out, stopping to look at the goldfish in the aquarium, "I'll do it and trust to luck."

Joe went into the store, which was a place where not only fish, but dogs, cats and birds were sold. He remained some little time in conversation with the proprietor, and some money changed hands. Joe was smiling when he came out.

"At least it will be different, whatever else it is," thought the boy fish, as he may now be called, for he was destined to be billed as that later on.

There was so much taking place in the big circus tent, or "main top" as it is called, that Joe's activities around the glass tank were hardly noticed. If any of the circus people saw him they probably believed he was just doing what Benny had often done, looking to see about the temperature of the water, and to be positive that the joints were not leaking.

And when, a little later, a circus attendant brought word to Joe that there was a man with a horse and wagon outside the tent who had a big box for Joe, even that caused no comment, for it was almost time for the show to start and every one was busy about his or her own affairs or special act.

But when Jim Tracy passed the platform on which the tank was standing, and saw a big canvas cover wrapped about the sides of the glass box, he opened his eyes in surprise.

"What's the idea, Joe?" he asked.

"Oh, just a little experiment," was the answer.

"Experiment! You're not going to fall down on the act, are you? Remember we have it billed in this town, and we're likely to play to record-breaking audiences both this afternoon and evening. You're not going to cut out the act, are you, after promising——"

"Cut out the act? Of course not!"

"But putting that canvas around the tank makes it look as though it was out of business."

"Oh, it isn't out of business at all," said Joe with a laugh. "In fact I hope it will draw more business than before. Just leave it to me, Jim. It will be all right, I'm sure. You go ahead and make the usual announcement, only don't pull any four-minute immersion on me, for I'm not up to that yet. Make it three and a quarter if you like, I think I can hold my breath that long."

"But I don't quite see, Joe."

"You don't need to, now. I want to spring it on you, as well as on the public. Just give me a man to yank off the canvas cover when I say the word, and that'll be all I want."

"All right, Joe. It's your affair, as long as you do as we've advertised."

"I'll do that and more, Jim Tracy. Leave it to me."

Joe's trapeze work came first on the programme, and while he liked this as well as ever and did his usual hair-raising feats, this day he was a bit impatient for the act to be over, so he could do what he had planned in the tank.

At last, however, he made his final swing, and dropped down into the life net amid the plaudits of the crowd. Then Joe hurried to the dressing tent to get into Benny's scaly, green, rubber suit.

"That's another thing I'm going to do when I get around to it," thought Joe, as he squeezed himself into the garments. "I'm going to have another suit, different, and of another color. I've got to change this act about to bring it up to my ideas."

Out on the little platform at the edge of the tank, Joe took his place. Jim Tracy, standing near by on the ground, pointed up to the queerly-clad figure and made his usual dramatic announcement.

"And now," finished the ring-master, "the boy fish will show you that it is as easy for him to live, move and have his being under water, as it is for ordinary mortals in the atmosphere of this earth. Ready!"

"Ready!" cried Joe, and he nodded to the attendant who stood ready to pull a rope that would let fall from the tank the canvas that concealed it from view.

CHAPTER IX

A NEW STUNT

There was a hush of expectancy as Joe stood poised on the little platform above the tank. The band, that had blared out when Joe made his bow, had stopped playing, and the drummer was ready to sound a big "boom" on the bass instrument when Joe should plunge into the water.

The canvas came slithering down from around the sides of the glass tank, and at once there arose murmurs of admiration from the big crowd in the tent.

"How pretty!" women's voices said.

"Say, you did pull off something new!" murmured Jim Tracy, greatly pleased.

Joe had transformed the tank into a big aquarium. In the four corners were long, waving, green, aquatic plants, seemingly growing in the white sand.

The plants did not interfere with a view from all four sides through the transparent glass, but they added greatly to the effectiveness of the act. But, more than this, there were a score of large goldfishes swimming about in the tank, their brilliant scales reflecting back the light that came in from top and sides.

"Why, they're real!"

"They're alive!"

"They're real fish!"

Thus murmured the crowd, and Joe smiled at the sensation he had caused. That had been the idea which had come to him as he saw the aquarium of fish as he was going in to get his ice cream. He had bought the fish from the dealer, as well as the long streamers of aquatic plants, and had placed them in his tank, few if any of the circus folk being aware of the surprise Joe was planning.

"That sure is great!" declared Jim, who was as much surprised as any one in the audience.

Joe waited a moment for the crowd to appreciate the novel and pretty little scenic background he had provided for his act. Then, having inflated his lungs with air, he plunged gracefully into the tank of water.

There was a rush of the real fish to one end as the boy fish came down among them, and the flitting, glittering, golden bodies could easily be seen as they darted to and fro in alarm when Joe settled down on the white, sandy bottom.

Then, prevented by the glass sides from getting too far away from the strange creature who seemed almost as much at home in the water as they were, the fish began swimming about in all directions.

This was just what Joe wanted, for he knew it added to the effectiveness of the act. He believed that the audience would be fascinated in seeing him through the glass, surrounded as he was by real, live, swimming fish.

Waiting a moment to let the golden creatures become quiet, Joe began his own swimming movements, turning, circling and somersaulting in the limpid element. He slowly waved his hands to and fro, pretending to be playing with the fish. Sometimes one or two of them would slip through his fingers, and he might have caught them, only he did not want to injure them.

Joe had bargained for the biggest goldfish he could buy, so they could easily be seen from even the far end of the tent. At night, when there was no sunlight to illuminate the scene, a big gasoline incandescent light overhead and smaller ones arranged like footlights on a stage, to shine up, would make the tank of water even more plainly visible and more brilliant than in the afternoon.

"I guess I didn't make any mistake in this experiment," thought Joe, as he looked out through the glass and saw the crowd applauding.

His swimming exhibition at an end, Joe came out to prepare for the second part of his act—the under-water endurance feat, during which he did several simple tricks.

"Though the fish swimming about may spoil some of the juggling," Joe mused. "I never thought of that. However, it may make the act take all the better if it's a bit funny."

As a matter of fact, it did.

Joe took a little longer than usual to inflate his lungs this time. He was going to try to remain under water longer than he had done on the other occasions.

The iron box of tricks was slowly lowered into the tank, for Joe did not want to frighten the fish any more than he could help. Then he got in himself, not diving this time, as he had found on the first dive that the fish were very much startled.

"And as long as they are my silent partners in this act I must treat 'em fairly," thought Joe, as he went under water.

He did a little juggling with the iron balls, and, just as he had half anticipated, a big goldfish swam between his hand and the ball once, just as he was about to catch it. He, therefore, failed to get the ball, and, taking advantage of the occasion, he pretended to get angry. He shook his fist at the fish, which, of course, darted away.

Joe's comical little caper begot a laugh, and he made a mental note to work in that feature at all the performances. The value of a laugh is appreciated even in a circus act.

As Joe went through the tricks, pretending to swallow an egg and making it come out of his ear, causing several small objects to disappear, and doing other tricks that he had learned while on the road with Professor Rosello, Joe thought of something else.

"I wonder how that would work," he mused, for he could think, if not talk, under water while holding his breath. As a matter of fact active thinking did not make the time seem so long as when his attention was fixed on the number of minutes he was trying to stay under.

"I must see if I can't work out something like that," Joe continued to muse. "It ought to go well. I'd have to have some apparatus made for it, though. Well, one thing at a time. I'll stick to the fish stunt for a while yet."

Joe's head was beginning to throb now, caused by the continued water pressure and by the retention of his breath. He felt that he would soon have to go up to breathe.

"But I'll try to beat my own record, though it isn't much to boast of as yet," he decided.

He finished his tricks, and then, stretching and yawning, which always called forth a laugh, he straightened out on the white sand and pretended to go to sleep while the goldfish swam above him.

It made a pretty and effective scene, and the audience applauded well.

Joe was nearly at his limit of endurance, though he was not in such physical distress as he had been when first doing the act. He decided that he must come up, so, pretending to awaken, and to be extremely surprised at finding himself in a tank of water, with fish for companions, Joe slowly floated to the surface.

"Three minutes and twenty seconds!" announced Jim Tracy, who stood with his watch in his hand. "As I told you, friends, the boy fish has remained under water, not three minutes and a quarter, as I predicted he would, but five seconds longer. And let me tell you, my friends, five seconds is a long time—under water."

The crowd applauded again as Joe came out of the tank and bowed while he wrapped a bath robe about him to hurry to his dressing tent.

"Oh, Joe! It was fine!" cried Helen, as he passed her when she was getting ready to go into the ring with Rosebud. "It was so pretty! How did you ever think of it?"

"Oh, it was just accident, I guess."

"A lucky accident. We other performers will have to dress our acts differently if we want to get any attention."

Joe's act was better that night than it had been in the afternoon. One of the circus men caught a big mud turtle in the creek, near which the tents were erected, and finding it was not of the biting kind, Joe put it in the tank with the goldfish. That added to the effectiveness of the scene at night.

"Say, what are you going to do with these fish?" asked an attendant as he was about to empty Joe's tank after the night performance in order to pack it for transportation.

"I arranged with the aquarium man to buy them back at a reduction," said Joe. "I don't suppose we can transport them very well, but I'll keep the green plants. They'll live a long while and I like them in the tank. The man who brought the fish also brought a small net to lift 'em out with. It ought to be around here somewhere. Put the fish in the box they came in, fill it with water and I'll send 'em back."

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" broke in Jim Tracy.

"Why not?" asked Joe, somewhat surprised.

"Because those goldfish are going to travel with you. They're a part of the regular act after this, and don't you forget it! It went too well to give up. We can carry goldfish as easily as a hippopotamus, I reckon. Put 'em in some kind of a water-tight box, and we'll ship 'em in the hippo tank, where he can't nose 'em out. I'll have a regular traveling tank made for 'em later. Leave those fish behind? I guess not! They're too good for that. Take 'em with you, Joe."

The boy fish was only too glad to do this. He had not hoped to have this part of the act permanently, as he did not see how it was possible to get a fresh supply of goldfish in each town where they played. But taking the fish with them solved the problem.

The golden swimmers were put in the box in which they had been brought to the circus grounds from the animal store, and when water was added they swam about, seemingly in comfort, though their quarters were rather crowded.

Joe put in some of the green aquatic plant, as this serves to keep the fish healthy, and makes it unnecessary to change the water so often.

"But they'll have to have a fresh drink as soon as we arrive in the morning," Joe said.

"I'll look after them," promised the keeper of the hippopotamus, who was grateful to Joe for having stopped the big beast from running into danger.

Thus Joe's act was added to. But he was not done yet—not satisfied. He wanted something different.

For a week the show traveled on. Joe and Helen wrote to Benny, and in reply received a short letter from him. He said they were getting ready to operate on him, though they would have to wait for a favorable opportunity.

"It is the only chance, they say," wrote Benny, "of preventing me from becoming deaf and dumb. But oh, how I dread it! And my mother!—I don't know how to tell her."

"Poor boy!" murmured Helen. "He certainly is in trouble. I wish we could be with him—but we can't."

For the show must go on, and Joe and Helen had to go with it.

Joe's act in the tank made a favorable impression all along the route. He was gaining a reputation, and Jim Tracy ordered some new show bills featuring him. Joe also bought a new suit, red and in some other respects different from Benny's old one.

"Oh, what a pretty color!" Helen exclaimed when she saw Joe's new under-water suit. "It just matches the goldfish."

"So it does," Joe agreed. "I never thought of that when I sent for it."

It did make an effective picture in the tank, and at first glance Joe appeared to be a big goldfish himself, so perfect was the coloring of his rubber garment.

One day, following the afternoon performance, Joe, having finished his act, was watching the antics of some performing dogs that had lately been added to the circus. One dog made a jump from a high pole into a blanket held by four men.

"Another idea!" Joe exclaimed as he watched. "I'll have a new stunt if they'll only let me do it. I wonder if it would work. I'm going to try. It will be even better than the goldfish act!"

CHAPTER X

IN TERROR

When the afternoon performance was over, Joe found a chance to speak to Mr. Fleet, the man who owned the performing dogs.

"Pretty good act you have there," said the boy fish. He sat down and began petting one of the dogs.

"Glad you think so," was the answer. "You have some little act yourself. Strong, I believe your name is?"

"Yes," Joe nodded in friendly fashion. "I guess my act does go pretty well, but it's more because of the novelty of it than from anything I do. It's different from trapeze work."

"It certainly is. I don't see how you hold your breath so long."

"Practice," said Joe. "But if I just stayed under water I wouldn't be able to hold the attention of the crowd long. I have to work in some special stunts."

"So I noticed. That goldfish idea is a good one."

"And that brings me to what I want to say to you," Joe said. "I have a new idea. You know, we've got to be always on the lookout for something new." Mr. Fleet nodded in comprehension. "Now it occurred to me while I was looking at your jumping dog," went on Joe, "that perhaps I could use him in my act—with you to help, of course."

"I'd be very glad to do anything I could," returned Mr. Fleet. He had soon become aware of the popularity of Joe's act, and as trained dogs are not much of a novelty he welcomed the opportunity of increasing attention to his particular act. To be associated with the boy fish would be well worth while.

"What is your idea?" asked the dog trainer.

"This," said Joe. "I want to get something alive in the tank with me—something bigger than the goldfish and the turtle. Of course the fish look pretty, and I shall probably keep them, but they don't show off well enough, especially at the far end of the tent. People can't see them well—I mean as well as I'd like to have them."

"And you have an idea that you can take one of my dogs into the tank with you?"

"Well, yes, that's what I've been thinking of," answered Joe. "Now take the one that jumps off the pole. He seems to have a lot of nerve."

"He has. That dog is a wonder, but I had my own troubles training him. However, I don't understand just what you mean."

"This," said Joe. "After you have put your dogs through their paces, and I have done most of my act, why can't we have the jumping dog leap into the tank, where I'm under the water?"

"We might be able to get him to do it," assented the trainer, slowly considering the matter. "But he wouldn't stay under water with you."

"No, I don't suppose he would at first, certainly not very long at a time," Joe said. "But he could be taught to. An animal, I think, instinctively holds its breath under water. It doesn't try to breathe, as a human being does who falls in for the first time. Of course a dog, or any other animal, instinctively comes to the top as soon as it can after finding itself under the water. But your dog is so smart we might be able to teach it to swim under water, for say a minute at a time."

"Well, perhaps we might," assented Mr. Fleet. "Toto is very quick to learn, and I suppose staying under water for a little while wouldn't be any harder for him to accomplish than some of the tricks I've made him do. But wouldn't it rather detract from you to have a dog sharing in the applause?"

"I don't think so," replied Joe. "If we get Toto to stay under a minute we'll be doing well, and we may have to cut it to a half. But if I stay under more than three minutes it will give the public a good idea of how much more endurance a human being has than an animal. That's only an idea of mine, of course. I don't know that we could make it work, but I feel like trying it."

"Well, I'm willing, if you are," assented Mr. Fleet. "We'll give it a trial, anyhow. We can do it now, if you like."

"We'll try the preliminaries," said Joe. "That is, we'll try to get him to jump into the tank of water first, so he'll get used to that. The rest will come gradually."

"Come on, Toto!" called Mr. Fleet, and the intelligent animal started up from his master's feet. "A new trick, old boy," went on the trainer. Toto barked in anticipation.

"Toto is a very willing worker," said the trainer. "He seems to love trying something new. If any of my dogs, or any dog in fact, can do what you want, Toto is the boy!"

The big tent was practically deserted save for a few attendants who were putting apparatus in shape for the evening performance. The high pole from which Toto jumped was on a movable platform, and with the help of some ring-men Joe and Mr. Fleet transported it over close to the tank which was left filled with water ready for Joe's evening act.

"Hadn't you better take out the goldfish?" asked Mr. Fleet. "Some of them may be hurt if Toto jumps in."

"No, I think not," said Joe. "The tank is big enough for them to swim out of the way, and if the trick goes I'll want the dog used to the fish in the water, so he might as well begin with them."

"Yes," assented the trainer. "I don't suppose you'd dare use a cat in an act like this, even if you could get her to go into the water, which most cats hate. She'd eat the goldfish."

"I'm afraid so!" laughed Joe. "But say! that would be a stunt, wouldn't it? A diving cat! That would create a sensation, but I guess it couldn't be done. I've heard of diving horses and diving bears, but never of a diving cat. Well, we won't bother about that now."

The pole was in place near the tank, the top being reached by a rope ladder up which Toto climbed. On top of the pole was a small padded platform for the dog to rest on before he got the word to make the leap.

"Up, Toto!" ordered Mr. Fleet, and with a bark the dog started up the ladder. Reaching the platform, he sat there in a "begging position," waiting for the sign to jump.

"Down, Toto!" called Mr. Fleet, but instead of jumping, as he had always done at the word, Toto only whined and moved about uneasily on the little platform.

"Come on! Come on!" cried the trainer, but the little dog would not.

"He's afraid of the water," said Joe. "He's used to seeing a blanket under him."

"I guess that's right," agreed the trainer.

"Well, let's hold a blanket over the tank," suggested Joe. "We can hold it high enough at first so it won't touch the surface of the water. Gradually we can lower it until we have a little water showing as it seeps through the blanket. In that way perhaps we can get him used to it."

"We'll try that," assented Mr. Fleet. Four men held a blanket which was stretched over the top of the tank of water.

"Down, Toto!" commanded his master, and down the little dog jumped with a bark of satisfaction.

"That's our plan!" cried Joe.

They kept on with the experiment until they had the dog leaping into the blanket as it sagged down in the water, a quantity of which was held in the depression of the cloth. Toto seemed to like the new trick. He was eager for the leap, and splashed about joyously in the water.

An hour's practice was considered enough for one day.

"To-morrow we'll go at it again," said Mr. Fleet.

The more Joe thought of the new trick the better he liked it.

"To work with a diving dog will surely create a sensation," he mused.

"What's this I hear about you, Joe?" asked Jim Tracy at the evening performance. "Trying some new stunt?"

"Well, yes, just trying it. You mean about the dog?"

"Yes."

"I don't know that we can work it," went on Joe; "but if we can it ought to make a hit."

"That's the idea!" said the ring-master. "We've got to keep working for new hits in the circus business all the while."

For several days after that, whenever opportunity offered, Joe and Mr. Fleet put Toto through the jumping rehearsal, using the blanket. Finally, when they thought the dog would no longer be afraid, they took it away. But at first Toto refused to jump, and his master would not, of course, use force.

Finally, however, patience won, and when another dog, a little water spaniel, was put in the tank Toto seemed to think it was all right, and made his first leap from the high platform into the tank where the goldfish flitted about.

"Hurrah!" cried Joe, as the water splashed up, and the little dog swam to the edge of the tank to be lifted out by his master. "Hurrah! We'll have a diving dog yet!"

"But I'm afraid it will be some time before you can get him to stay under water as long as you do," said Mr. Fleet.

However, the first part was accomplished, and for several days after that Toto was given frequent practice in jumping into the tank, Joe not having yet taken his place beneath the surface.

Then one afternoon, when it was thought that Toto had lost all fear of the water, since he did the trick as naturally as he did some of his older ones, Joe got in the tank, and Mr. Fleet called to the dog to jump.

But the little animal flatly refused to leave the platform. No urging or coaxing could make it take the jump. Whether the sight of Joe in the tank frightened Toto, or whether the form of the boy fish was unduly magnified to the dog because of the fact that Joe was under the surface, could only be guessed at. The fact remained that Toto refused to jump, though when Joe climbed dripping out the dog quickly jumped in.

"Now, what do you think of that!" exclaimed Mr. Fleet. "Well, I've been up against just as queer things in a different way when training other dogs. You'll get them to the point of doing a trick, and maybe because a new kind of fly buzzes around their ears they balk. But we won't give up."

"Maybe it we try it when the tent is crowded, and the music is playing, it will be different," suggested Joe. "Let's do it."

"But if he balks in public it will spoil the act," suggested Mr. Fleet, "and we don't want that to happen. We'll keep on practising in private."

And so they did, but Toto refused to make the jump while Joe was in the tank, and the boy fish had about concluded to give up the trick and think of something else.

"Though I do want to do it," he said. "Maybe we could break in another dog."

"I haven't another one who will jump as fearlessly as Toto does," objected the trainer. "No, we'll have to stick to him."

The circus reached a town where a two days' stay was to be made. There was a good attendance the first day, and as the weather was fine the circus folk were in high spirits, for a combination of good weather and good crowds is the best thing in the world for a circus.

Joe, musing on some way of making Toto do the jumping trick, had gone into the animal tent a few minutes before the close of the afternoon performance. His act had been unusually successful, but he was still impressed with the idea that he must make it more novel. He and Mr. Fleet had arranged to give Toto another trial when the crowd should have departed, and Joe had come to the animal tent to talk to the dog trainer.

The chariot races were over, the "grand concert" had been given, and now the crowd began to file out of the big tent. Some, especially those with children, were coming back into the animal tent for another look at the elephants, camels, lions, tigers and other beasts, but most of the audience was satisfied with the view they had had in passing through to the "main top."

"What's the matter, Señor Bogardi?" asked Joe, as he saw the lion tamer with an anxious look in his face, standing near a cage which was covered with canvas. "More trouble?"

"Yes, friend Strong, more trouble," replied the man who went into their cages and put the lions through their several tricks. "This time it is Prince."

"The big Barbary lion?"

"Yes. Ever since we had to shoot his mate, Princess, he has not been like himself. To-day he began throwing himself with all his force against the iron door. He even started some of the bars, so I had to screen him from the public to quiet him."

"Did it?"

"Yes, he seems to be more tractable now. But I want to see if I can not take off the canvas. The public does not like it that they do not see all the animals. I hope Prince is not going on a rampage as Princess did."

Joe recalled the time when, by quick action, he had prevented the lioness from escaping. She had been shot later, while he was in the hospital recovering from the effects of a fall from his trapeze. Now her mate was making trouble.

"Softly now, Prince! Softly," began the lion tamer, as he removed the canvas cover. "Softly now, old boy!"

But no sooner was the cover off than the lion, which had been lying down, jumped up with a roar and dashed himself against the iron door of his cage.

Women in the crowd screamed with terror, and there was a rush to get out of the tent.

"There is no danger!" Señor Bogardi assured the people. But they thought it safer outside, and the rush for the exit continued.

The lion kept on throwing himself against the door, as though trying to break out.

"We must put the canvas back!" cried the tamer.

"I'll help," offered Joe.

But, even as he spoke, the lion with one last, desperate leap gave a bound against the side of the cage that almost overturned it. Then, with a rending of wood and a snapping of metal, the door of the cage sprang open, and the lion was loose in the tent.

CHAPTER XI

TOTO'S DISCOVERY

Fortunate it was that the circus was over for the afternoon and that the small crowd of spectators in the animal tent had rushed out before the lion broke loose, or there might have been a panic in which many might have been hurt, if not killed. Not necessarily by the lion, but by being trampled on by the feet of hundreds. For it is seldom that a wild beast kills when it first breaks out of a cage. It is too dazed by its sudden freedom, and often too frightened to want to do anything except run and hide.

Not that an escaped wild beast would not kill afterward if cornered, but it is seldom that one seeks blood when first it breaks out.

Mingled with the screams of frightened women and children, now safely outside the tent, and the hoarse cries of the men spectators, also in the open, were the yells of the circus people.

"A lion is loose!" was the warning that echoed through the animal tent. This was to let other circus folk know, so they might prepare to meet the danger.

Señor Bogardi drew his revolver and fired several shots in the air, hoping to frighten Prince and make him cower in some corner, whence he might be driven into another cage.

But the shots seemed only to frighten the lion into further action. Joe had a glimpse of the tawny form, with switching tail, dodging under the other animal cages which were drawn up in a circle around the tent.

"He's headed for the 'main-top' all right!" shouted some one, as he saw Prince running toward the passage which connected the two tents.

"Come on! We must catch him!" exclaimed the tamer. "If he gets loose it will be a great loss!"

"More than a loss. I guess, if he has his appetite with him," mused Joe. "I wonder how they'll catch him."

He had heard circus stories of wild animals escaping and being secured again, sometimes days later, but aside from his experience with the hippopotamus Joe had seen nothing of this kind.

The animal tent was now a place of wild confusion. Men were rushing here and there, to arm themselves with tent pegs, stakes—anything they could grab up. They were alive to the danger, but they did not shirk. The elephants were trumpeting loudly, and some were tugging at their foot chains attached to stakes driven in the ground. The big beasts knew something was wrong.

Monkeys in a cage next to the broken one from which the lion had escaped were wildly leaping about and chattering. They had caught sight of the tawny beast, and knew him for one of their jungle foes, though there was little danger now that the simians would be injured.

The Siberian tigers were spitting and snarling in their cage, and another lion began to roar till he seemed to shake the ground. All the captive animals appeared to know that one of their number had gained its freedom and it was as if they were eager to congratulate him.

"Keep the crowd out! Don't let 'em in here!" cried Jim Tracy, as he came running in, word having reached him of what had happened.

"No danger of any of that crowd coming in," said Joe, as he nodded toward the throng that had passed out of the tent. "You couldn't drag 'em in."

"Come on, boys!" called Señor Bogardi. "We must get him before he runs out of the big tent."

He led the throng of animal men and others in the chase. The men carried ropes, sharp iron prongs and other weapons, while the lion-tamer had sent to the cook wagons for a big chunk of raw beef with which to placate Prince, in case he should come close enough.

And then, in the big tent, there began a lion hunt. The place was cleared of spectators now, but there were many nooks under the thousands of seats or behind some of the apparatus that was left in place for the evening performance, where a beast could hide.

The lion had disappeared. Under the direction of Jim Tracy and the beast's tamer the big tent was gone thoroughly over but no lion could be found.

"He must have gotten out," declared Joe.

"If he has there'll be trouble—not now maybe, but later," said the ring-master.

"We can't move on and leave him behind very well," he went on. "Prince will probably go into hiding until he gets up an appetite, and then we'll have bills of damages to settle from farmers whose calves and sheep are disappearing. I almost wish we didn't have any cats in the show, but I s'pose we must."

The search went on in the tent, but was unavailing. Prince seemed to have run in and run out again, though the circus folk and others on the outside of the tent, on being questioned, said they had seen nothing of the beast.

"Well, we've got to find him, that's all," decided Jim, "and before dark if we can. Get a crowd of men, Bogardi, and start out and see what you can do."

The lion tamer picked some men who were used to handling animals, and set off with them. A spare cage was made ready to rush to the scene as soon as word of the finding of Prince should come in.

Meanwhile there was nothing for the others to do save wait, and nervous waiting it was. Not that the circus could not go on without the lion, but people would not be very likely to come to the evening performance when they knew a savage lion was loose in the neighborhood. They would prefer to remain in their homes.

There, too, was the trouble that would be caused if some one were injured or killed by the beast.

"It sure is tough luck!" complained Jim Tracy.

"Sure is," agreed Joe.

Gradually matters quieted down in the animal tent, and while some of the performers went to supper Joe spoke to Mr. Fleet about giving Toto another trial at the water jump.

"We've got to go on with the show, lion or no lion," said Joe, "and we might as well practise that act."

The dog trainer agreed with him, and they brought in Toto.

"Now, Toto," said his master, "be nice, and do what we want you to. Up you go."

He had the little dog in his arms and was walking toward the platform on which Joe's tank stood. But Toto acted very strangely. He trembled and whined, and seemed to want to get out of Mr. Fleet's arms.

"Why, why now! Steady!" murmured the trainer soothingly. "What's the matter, Toto?"

The dog continued to whine, and exhibited signs of fear.

"Why now, little doggie," said Joe, "you won't have to do that jump if you don't want to. Come on now, jump into the tank. I'll stay out if you won't jump with me in at first."

Mr. Fleet put Toto down at the foot of the rope ladder which led to the top of the pole.

"Up you go!" he said.

But, instead, Toto, with whines and barks, jumped to the ground. Then, running away a short distance, the little dog turned and stood facing the platform of the tank. Toto growled and barked, and the hair on his spine stood up in a straight ridge.

The platform was hollow. It consisted of four uprights, and around them was a heavy and stiff piece of canvas, painted to resemble a mass of rock. On top of this seeming rock pile stood the glass tank.

"Why, Toto, what in the world is the matter?" asked Mr. Fleet.

Joe had a sudden idea.

"It's something—something under the platform," he said.

He and Mr. Fleet looked at each other. The same thought came to them both.

"The lion!"

Toto continued to bark and growl and to face the canvas-enclosed platform.

"Prince must be under there," said Joe.

"Yes," nodded the dog-trainer. "What had we better do?"

"Take your dog away, keep quiet, and one of us go and tell Jim Tracy," decided Joe. "One of us must stay and watch to see that the lion does not come out. I'll stay."

"Perhaps I'd better stay," suggested Mr. Fleet. "I'm used to handling animals, and once I trained some pumas—treacherous beasts they were, too. You go and tell Jim."

This seemed to be the best plan, though Joe would willingly have stayed. It was not a question of bravery, but of expediency. If the lion did come out the dog-trainer could probably hold it back better than Joe could.

"The lion under your tank!" cried the ring-master. "Great Scott! I never thought of looking under there. We'll get him out right away. Say, it's a relief to know where he is!"

CHAPTER XII

MORE MONEY

The animal men who had not gone out with Señor Bogardi to search through the town were hurriedly summoned. The spare cage was wheeled in and arrangements made to again put Prince into captivity. "Is he there yet?" asked the ring-master, as he came up to where Mr. Fleet stood.

"Yes. He hasn't made a move or sign. Of course we're only guessing—Joe and I—that he's under there. It was Toto's actions that gave us the idea."

"Oh, I guess he's there, all right—the dog ought to know," said Jim Tracy. "He picked out the best hiding place in the whole tent. I guess it looked sort of like home to him."

Indeed the space under the tank platform, with its canvas covering painted to resemble rocks, made an ideal hiding place. A lion, or any other beast of his size, could crawl under the flexible cloth which would fall into place without disclosing that it had been disturbed. And, too, Barbary lions have their dens in holes in the rocks, and poor Prince may have fancied he was back in his old home again.

"We'll make sure he's there before we try to drive him out," said Jim. With a long prodding rod he lifted one end of the canvas. At once there sounded a menacing growl, and some of the men moved back.

"He's there all right," the ring-master announced. "Now to get him out. Bring up some of those tubs."

He pointed to some of the heavy wooden affairs used in elephant tricks, and the men rolled them around three sides of the platform. Then they braced them with boards so the sudden rush of the lion would not knock them over.

"Now bring up the cage!" ordered Tracy. It was on wheels, one of the regular wagon affairs, and the spring door was braced open, with a man ready to snap it shut as soon as Prince should be inside. A big piece of raw beef was thrown inside the cage as a bait.

"Now then, Joe, I'm afraid we'll have to spoil some of your ornamentation," said the ring-master grimly. "I'm going to slit down one side of the canvas, but we'll have it fixed for you again. I want a good opening for Prince to run out through when we start him going."

A quick motion of a keen knife, and one side of the canvas fell away. There was another menacing growl and then, in a far corner of the hiding place he had chosen, Prince was seen curled up in a most comfortable fashion.

"The rascal!" said Jim Tracy. "Come out of that. Get behind him, some of you men, and prod him with the irons. Be easy, we don't want him to go on another rampage."

Reaching under the canvas, the men, with prodding irons, poked away until they touched the crouching body of the lion. With a roar Prince sprang up. He saw light only in one direction, where the canvas had been cut. He started toward that, caught a glimpse of the barred cage and hesitated. Then there came to him the odor of the meat, and he could not resist. Prince had had enough of liberty. With slow steps he went into the cage, gave one roar, and began to eat. The door was snapped shut and Prince was caught.

"Good work!" exclaimed the ring-master in relieved tones. "Now we can go on with the show."

Messengers were sent to recall the other lion-hunters, and great precautions were taken to see that this second cage was secure. Prince seemed to have calmed down after his brief freedom.

"We've got to let the public know that the lion is caught," decided Jim Tracy. "Otherwise we'll be playing to empty benches to-night, and that won't do."

Accordingly men were sent out to spread the report that the beast was captured, and could be safely viewed behind strong bars at the circus that night. When Señor Bogardi came back, glad indeed to find that his lion was safe, he said Prince was much quieter and need not be concealed behind canvas, for the present at least.

Joe's stand was temporarily repaired and he made ready for the evening performance.

"I guess we'll let the dog trick go for a while," he said to Mr. Fleet. "Probably it will be hard to get Toto near the platform for a few days, until he can no longer notice the lion smell."

The dog-trainer agreed with him. Wild beasts, even in captivity, give out a strong odor, and it was this that had given the little dog the information that some jungle creature was underneath the canvas covering.

The efforts of Joe and Mr. Fleet to make Toto dive into the tank while the boy fish was in it, were totally unavailing, even some days after the lion episode. Toto would dive in when only the goldfish were there, but the minute Joe entered the little beast refused to jump. It was not that Toto was not friendly with Joe, either, for he would let the youth pet him, and was very fond of him. It was one of those things which cannot be explained, and there was no use trying to get Toto to do the trick as Joe wanted it done.

"Well, if I have to give that up I'll work out something else," our hero decided. And, as the show traveled on from place to place, Joe perfected himself in aquatic work.

He was getting accustomed to staying under the water, increasing the time of submersion a few seconds each day, and he did not doubt but he could make a record of four minutes in the course of a month or two. His lung power was increasing.

From Professor Rosello he had received a pack of celluloid playing cards, and Joe now added to his tricks some sleight-of-hand work with the Kings, Queens and other cards. It took well with the audience, but Joe was not satisfied. He wanted something more spectacular.

Meanwhile Joe was doing less trapeze work in order to give more attention to the tank. In private he practised picking up coins in his mouth, as Benny had done. At first it was hard work, and more than once Joe swallowed so much water that he had to come up to the surface. But he did not stop on that account.

He still continued to use the goldfish, but the turtle died from some undiscoverable cause. Señorita Tanlozo, the snake charmer, offered to let Joe take one of her water anacondas into the tank with him.

"No, thank you," the boy fish said with a laugh and a shake of his head. "It may be all right, but I'd be so busy watching him, to see that he did not make a necklace of himself around my throat, that I couldn't do my acts. I'll just work with the fishes for a while."

Gradually Joe found that he could gather up almost as many coins as Benny had in his best day. Joe had acquired the knack of opening his mouth under water without swallowing any of the liquid. Then came an idea for varying the trick.

"Picking up the coins doesn't show off very well," he decided. "I ought to have something larger. And yet I can't get so many of them in my mouth. I have it—I'll eat under water! I wonder if it can be done."

After some experiments—not all of which were pleasant ones—Joe found that bananas were easier to handle and eat while under water than any other food; and, moreover, the moisture did not spoil them.

So one day he added to his stock of tricks that of eating a banana while submerged. Some persons were skeptical as to whether or not he really did swallow the fruit, thinking it might be sleight-of-hand work. But Joe invited a committee to search him and the tank for any trace of the fruit or of a hiding place, and he proved that he really did swallow the banana under water. It was not easy, but he soon became used to it.

Then he elaborated the trick a little. He had a sheet iron table made, and this was lowered to him after he entered the tank. On the table were plates, a cup and saucer, a knife, a fork and a spoon. It was a complete table set under water.

For food Joe used bananas cut into different shapes. He swallowed them, cutting them with his knife, feeding himself with his fork and pretending to drink from the cup. That of course was pretense.

Then he did his "sleep act" and came up to receive merited applause. Joe was certainly highly successful in his tank work. He had lengthened the whole act by several minutes, and he was nearer than ever to remaining under the full four minutes.

Another performer had been secured in his place to act with the Lascalla Brothers, but Joe did his lone trapeze work with the same satisfactory results as before.

Finally, the young performer decided to take a step he had contemplated for some time.

"Look here, Mr. Tracy," he said one afternoon, after the big crowd that had applauded our hero had filed out, "don't you think I ought to be getting more money?"

"More money!" repeated the ring-master. "What for?"

"Well, I'm doing a double turn. I do almost as much trapeze work as I did at first, and I'm putting on the tank act too. I've made that longer than Benny did. I really think I ought to be getting more money."

"You get a pretty good salary now, Joe. You've had several increases since you joined the show."

"I know I have, Mr. Tracy. But I want more now. Why, you bill my act big!"

"Oh, I know it. It's a good act, Joe."

"Then give me more money! I've just got to have it!"

CHAPTER XIII

ILL FEELING

The ring-master looked critically at the boy fish, but Joe returned the gaze steadily. He seemed very much in earnest.

"Say, Joe," asked Jim Tracy teasingly, "you're not going to get married, are you, that you want more money?"

Joe blushed and answered:

"No, not just yet, though I suppose you do pay the married men more than the single ones."

"Yes, that's the general custom. But if we practically doubled your salary, Joe, you'd be getting more than some of the married men."

"Well, I'm doing a double turn, Mr. Tracy. You've got to think of that."

The ring-master scratched his head. Clearly Joe had the best of the argument there.

"Well, I guess you're right," Jim Tracy was forced to admit.

"Then you'll give me more money?" Joe's voice was eager.

"I'll take it up with the treasurer, Joe," answered his friend. "You know this circus is a partnership affair, and I can't act alone. But I'll do the best I can for you."

It was a day or so later that Joe again brought up the subject. It was after a particularly successful performance, where Joe had been loudly applauded for staying under water within a few seconds of four minutes.

"Now's a good time to strike again for my increase," thought the boy fish. He approached Jim.

"How about more money for me?" Joe asked. "Do I get it?"

"Yes, we have decided to give it to you," was the ring-master's answer. "But I can't imagine what a boy like you—for you are only a boy—can want of so much money."

"Oh, I have a very good use for it," replied Joe coolly. "Thanks, Mr. Tracy."

"Oh, you're welcome, Joe. And I want you to feel that we are glad to pay you well, for you are a drawing card for the show. Only don't waste your money. The time to save is when you're young. I only wish I'd done so."

Joe smiled at this good advice, but he did not say whether or not he was going to follow it. He was pleased when, on the next pay day, he received an envelope with nearly twice as much in it as he had been in the habit of getting.

"It's a good thing I got up spunk to ask for it," mused Joe. "I guess I didn't do so badly when I ran away from the deacon's."

Joe thought back to the time when he had first made the acquaintance of Professor Rosello, the magician, rescuing him at the fireworks explosion. From then on Joe's rise had been steady until now he was earning a salary many a mature man would be glad to receive.

"It may seem a funny way to make a living, turning somersaults in the air, and seeing how long I can stay under water," mused Joe, "but it brings in the money, and that's what counts."

Joe was quite disappointed at the failure to get the diving dog worked into his act. He knew the necessity for something novel from time to time in performances destined to please the public, and he saw, all about him, men and women connected with the circus always striving to get some new effect, or do an old act in a new way.

The clowns were particularly anxious in this respect, for the public tires of nothing so quickly as of something funny. A thing may beget a laugh the first time, and even up to the fourth or fifth time, and then the cry is:

"Give us something new!"

The clowns knew this, and, from the veteran Bill Watson to the newest member of the staff, they were continually cudgeling their brains for novelty. All were afraid lest some fellow-clown steal their ideas; consequently they each worked on them in secret until he had them perfected and ready to give to the public. After that, of course no clown would be allowed to do what another offered for the amusement of the audiences.

Sometimes the simplest thing was made the basis for a funny act. Bill Watson could come out, attired in a suit half black and half white with his face tinted to match, and by going through the motions of a baseball player in his own inimitable way, raise a gale of laughter.

Some of the other clowns would go through the pretense of eating a meal, some one would pretend to go sailing in a soap box, while one team would do a "barber act." Each act was good and funny because of the peculiar way it was done.

So, seeing this spirit all about him, Joe was sorry he had not been able to add something new to his act. Of course, the goldfish had added greatly to it since Benny had been forced to give up his performance.

It did not seem likely that Benny Turton would take up his act again for some time, as a report received from the hospital said that a delicate and dangerous operation would have to be performed if he was to hear and speak again. Therefore, as the days went by, Joe kept his eyes open for a chance to supplement his tank act. There was not much he could do that was new or different in his trapeze work, though he still kept himself in the van of the profession and did as many hair-raising feats as before. He performed on the trapeze alone now, having dropped his act with the Lascalla Brothers because he could not fit it in with the water work. With this Joe was well pleased; for while the Spaniards worked well with him, Joe could not help feeling that they did not like him for having taken the place of Sim Dobley, who had been discharged.

"Well, Joe, I hear you're pulling down a pretty good salary now," remarked Tonzo Lascalla to our hero one day.