Joe Strong on the Trapeze Part 10

"This! If you do it again I'll have you arrested. I'm through with you and I want you to keep away."

"I guess this is a free country!"

"Yes, the _country_ is free, but our _circus_ isn't. You keep out in the country and you'll be all right. Keep off our wagons. Moreover, if I catch you making any more threats against our performers I'll---- But I guess Joe can look after himself all right," finished the ring-master. "Just you keep away, that's all, Dobley."

The man slunk off in the crowd. Joe really felt sorry for him, but he could do nothing. Dobley had thrown away his chances and they had come to Joe, who was ent.i.tled to them. Later that day Joe saw Sid and Tonzo in close conversation with their former partner, but our hero said nothing to the ring-master about it, though he was a bit uneasy in his own mind.

The next afternoon when Joe came out of his dressing room after his trapeze act, he met Helen Morton. The fancy rider held an open letter in her hand, and she seemed disturbed at its contents.

"No bad news, I hope," remarked Joe.

"No, not exactly," Helen answered. "On the contrary it may be good news. But I don't exactly understand it. I wish Bill Watson were here, so I could ask his advice."

"Who is Bill Watson?" asked Joe.

"He's one of our clowns, one of the oldest in the business, I guess.

He was taken ill just before you joined the show, but he's coming back next week. I often ask his advice, and I'd like to now--about this letter."

"Why don't you ask mine?" suggested Joe, half jokingly.

CHAPTER IX

BILL WATSON'S IDEA

Helen Morton gave Joe a glance and a smile. Then she looked at the open letter in her hand.

"That's so," she said brightly. "I never thought of that. I wonder if you could advise me?"

"Why, I'm one of the best advisers you ever saw," returned Joe, laughingly.

"I know you're good on the trapeze," Helen admitted, "but have you had any business experience?"

"Well, I was in business for myself after I ran away from home and joined the professor," answered Joe. "That is, I had to attend to some of his business. What is it all about?"

"That's just what I want to know," answered the young circus rider.

"It's a puzzle to me."

She again referred to the letter, then with a sort of hopeless gesture held it out to Joe. He took it and cried:

"Why, what's this? It's all torn up," and he exhibited a handful of sc.r.a.ps of paper.

"Oh--Joe!" Helen gasped. "How did that happen?"

"Just a mistake," he replied. With a quick motion of his hand he held out the letter whole and untorn.

"Oh--oh!" she stammered. Then, laughing, added: "Is that one of your sleight-of-hand tricks?"

"Yes," Joe nodded. When Helen handed him the letter he happened to be holding the sc.r.a.ps of a circular letter he had just received and torn up. It occurred to him, just for a joke, to make Helen believe her letter had suddenly gone to pieces. It was one of Joe's simplest tricks, and he often did them nowadays in order to keep in practice.

"You certainly gave me a start!" Helen exclaimed. "I had hardly read the letter myself. It's quite puzzling."

"Do you want me to read it--and advise you?" asked Joe.

"If you will--and can--yes."

Joe hastily glanced over the paper. He saw in a moment that it was from a New York firm of lawyers. The body of the letter read:

"We are writing to you to learn if, by any chance, you are the daughter of Thomas and Ruth Morton who some years ago lived in San Francisco.

In case you are, and if your grandfather on your father's side was a Seth Morton, we would be glad to have you notify us of these facts, sending copies of any papers you may have to prove your ident.i.ty.

"For some years we have been searching for a Helen Morton with the above named relatives, but, so far, have not located her.

"We discovered a number of Helen Mortons, but they were not the right ones. Recently we saw your name in a theatrical magazine, and take this opportunity to inquire of you, sending this letter in care of the circus with which we understand you are connected. Kindly reply as soon as possible. If you are the right person there is a sum of money due you, and we wish, if that is the case, to pay it and close an estate."

Joe read the letter over twice without speaking.

"Well," remarked Helen, after a pause, "I thought you were going to advise me."

"So I am," Joe said. "I want to get this through my head first. But let me ask you: Is this a joke, or are you the Helen Morton referred to?"

"I don't know whether it's a joke or not, Joe. First I thought it was.

But my father's name was Thomas, and my grandfather was a Seth Morton, and he lived in San Francisco. Of course that was when I was a little girl, and I don't remember much about it. We lived in the West before papa and mamma died, and it was there I learned to ride a horse.

"When I was left alone except for an elderly aunt, I did not know what to do. My aunt took good care of me, however, but when she died there was no one else, and she left no money. I tried to get work, but the stores and factories wanted experienced girls, and the only thing I had any experience with was a horse.

"I got desperate, and decided to see if I couldn't make a living by what little talent I had. So one day, when a circus was showing in our town, I took my horse, Rosebud, rode out and did some stunts in the lots. The manager saw me and hired me. Oh, how happy I was!

"That wasn't with this show. I only joined here about two years ago.

Of course my friends--what few I had--thought it was dreadful for me to become a circus rider, but I've found that there are just as good men and women in circuses as anywhere else in this world," and her cheeks grew red, probably at the memory of something that had been said against circus folk.

"I know," said Joe, quietly. "My mother was a circus rider."

"So you have told me. But now about this letter, Joe. I wish Bill Watson were here--he might know what to do about it."

"Well, I can't say that I do, in spite of my boast," Joe answered. "It may be a joke, and, again, it may be the real thing. You may be an heiress, Miss Morton," and Joe bowed teasingly.

"I thought you were going to call me Helen--if I called you Joe," she said.

"So I am. That was only in fun," for soon after their acquaintance began these two young persons had fallen into the habit of dropping the formal Miss and Mister.

"Well, what would you do, Joe?" Helen asked.

"I think I'd answer this letter seriously," replied the young performer. "If it is a joke you can't lose more than a two cent stamp, and, on the other hand, if it's serious they'll want to hear from you.

You may be the very person they want. This letter head doesn't look much like a joke."