Joe Strong The Boy Fire Eater - Vance Barnum
JOE STRONG THE BOY FIRE-EATER
OR
_THE MOST DANGEROUS PERFORMANCE ON RECORD_
BY VANCE BARNUM
Author of "Joe Strong, the Boy Wizard," "Joe Strong and His Wings of
Steel," "Joe Strong and His Box of Mystery," etc.
1916
JOE STRONG, THE BOY FIRE-EATER
CHAPTER I
THE VANISHING LADY
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you will kindly give me your attention for a
few moments I will be happy to introduce to your favorable notice an
entertainer of world-wide fame who will, I am sure, not only mystify you
but, at the same time, interest you. You have witnessed the
death-defying dives of the Demon Discobolus; you have laughed with the
comical clowns; you have thrilled with the hurrying horses; and you have
gasped at the ponderous pachyderms. Now you are to be shown a trick
which has baffled the most profound minds of this or any other
city--aye, I may say, of the world!"
Jim Tracy, ringmaster and, in this instance, stage manager of Sampson
Brothers' Circus, paused in his announcement and with a wave of his hand
indicated a youth attired in a spotless, tight-fitting suit of white
silk. The youth, who stood in the center of a stage erected in the big
tent, bowed as the manager waited to allow time for the applause to die
away.
"You have all seen ordinary magicians at work making eggs disappear up
their sleeves," went on the stage manager. "You have, I doubt not,
witnessed some of them producing live rabbits from silk hats. But
Professor Joe Strong, who will shortly have the pleasure of entertaining
you, not only makes eggs disappear, but what is far more difficult, he
causes a lady to vanish into thin air.
"You will see a beautiful lady seated in full view of you. A moment
later, by the practice of his magical art, Professor Strong will cause
the same lady to disappear utterly, and he will defy any of you to tell
how it is done. Now, Professor, if you are ready--" and with a nod and a
wave of his hand toward the youth in the white silk tights, Jim Tracy
stepped off the elevated stage and hurried to the other end of the
circus tent where he had to see to it that another feature of the
entertainment was in readiness.
"Oh, Joe, I'm actually nervous! Do you think I can do it all right?"
asked a pretty girl, attired in a dress of black silk, which was in
striking contrast to Joe Strong's white, sheeny costume.
"Do it, Helen? Of course you can!" exclaimed the "magician," as he had
been termed by the ringmaster. "Do just as you did in the rehearsals and
you'll be all right."
"But suppose something should go wrong?" she asked in a low voice.
"Don't be in the least excited. I'll get you out of any predicament you
may get into. Tricks do, sometimes, go wrong, but I'm used to that. I'll
cover it up, somehow. However, I don't anticipate anything going wrong.
Now take your place while I give them a little patter."
This talk had taken place in low voices and with a rapidity which did
not keep the expectant audience waiting. Joe Strong, while he was
reassuring Helen Morton, his partner in the trick and also the girl to
whom he was engaged to be married, was rapidly getting the stage ready
for the illusion.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Joe, as he advanced to the edge of the
stage, "I am afraid our genial manager has rather overstated my powers.
What I am about to do, to be perfectly frank with you, is a trick. I lay
no claim to supernatural powers. But if I can do a trick and you can't
tell how it is done, then you must admit that, for the moment, I am
smarter than you. In other words, I am going to deceive you. But the
point is--how do I do it? With this introduction, I will now state what
I am about to do.
"Mademoiselle Mortonti will seat herself on a stage in a chair in full
view of you all. I will cover her, for a moment only, with a silken
veil. This, if I were a real necromancer, I should say was to prevent
your seeing her dissolve into a spirit as she disappears. But to tell
you the truth, it is to conceal the manner in which I do the trick.
You'd guess that, anyhow, if I didn't tell you," he added.
There was a good-natured laugh at this admission.
"As soon as I remove the silken veil," went on Joe, "you will see that
the lady will have disappeared before your very eyes. What's that?
Through a hole in the stage did some one say?" questioned Joe, appearing
to catch a protesting voice.
"Well, that's what I hear everywhere I go," he went on with easy
calmness. "Every time I do the vanishing lady trick some one thinks she
disappears through a hole in the stage. Now, in order to convince you to
the contrary, I am going to put a newspaper over that part of the stage
where the chair is placed. I will show you the paper before and after
the trick. And if there is not a hole or a tear in the paper, either
before or after the lady has disappeared, I think you will admit that
the lady did not go through a hole in the stage floor. Won't you?" asked
Joe Strong. "Yes, I thought you would," he added, as he pretended to
hear a "yes" from somewhere in the audience.
"All ready now, Helen," he said in a low voice to the girl, and an
attendant brought forward an ordinary looking chair and a newspaper.
Joe, who had done the trick many times before, but not often with Helen,
was perfectly at ease. Helen was very frankly nervous. She had not done
the trick for some time, and Joe had introduced into it some novel
features since last presenting it. Helen was afraid she would cause some
hitch in the performance.
"You'll be all right," Joe said to her in a low voice. "Just act as
though you had done this every day for a year."
Placing the chair in the center of the stage and handing Joe the
newspaper, the attendant stepped back. Joe addressed the audience.
"You here see the paper," said the "magician," as he held it up. "You
see that there is no hole in it. I'll now spread it down on the stage.
If the lady disappears down through the stage she will have to tear the
paper. You shall see if she does."
Joe next placed the chair directly over the square of paper and motioned
to Helen. Her plain black dress, of soft, clinging silk, swayed about
her as she took her place.
"I might add," said Joe, pausing a moment after Helen had taken her
seat, "that in order to prevent any shock to Mademoiselle Mortonti I am
going to mesmerize her. She will then be unconscious. I do this for two
reasons. In totally disappearing there is sometimes a shock to a
person's mentality that is unpleasant. To avoid indicting that on
Mademoiselle Mortonti I will hypnotize her.
"The other reason I do that is that she may not know how or when she
disappears. Thus she will not be able to see how I do the trick, and so
cannot give away my secret."
Of course this was all "bunk" or "patter," to use names given to it by
the performers. It kept the attention of the audience and so enabled Joe
to do certain things without attracting too much attention to them. As a
matter of fact he did not mesmerize Helen, and she knew perfectly well
how the trick was done. Those who have read previous books of this
series are also in the secret.
Joe waved his hands in front of Helen's face. She swayed slightly in her
chair. Then her eyes closed as though against her will, and she seemed
to sleep.
"She is now in the proper condition for the trick," said Joe. "I must
beg of you not to make any sudden or unnecessary noise. You might
suddenly awaken her from the mesmeric slumber, and this might be very
serious."
As Joe said this with every indication of meaning it, there was a quick
hush among the audience. Even though many knew it was only a trick, they
could not help being impressed by the solemn note in Joe's voice. Such
is the psychology of an audience, and the power over it of a single
person.
"She now sleeps!" said Joe in a low voice. As a matter of fact, Helen
was wide awake, and as Joe stood between her and the circus crowd she
slowly opened one eye and winked at him. He was glad to see this, as it
showed her nervousness had left her.
"Now for the mystic veil!" cried Joe, as he took from his helper a thin
clinging piece of black silk gauze. He tossed this over Helen and the
chair, completely covering both from sight. He brought the veil around
behind Helen's head, fastening it there with a pin.
"To make sure that Mademoiselle Mortonti sleeps, I will now make the few
remaining mesmeric passes," said Joe. "I must be positive that she
slumbers."
He waved his hands slowly over the black robed figure. A great hush had
fallen over the big crowd. Every eye was on the black figure in the
center of the raised stage in the middle of the big circus tent. All the
other acts had temporarily stopped, to make that of Joe Strong, the boy
magician, more spectacular.
As Joe continued to wave one hand with an undulating motion over the
silent black-covered figure in the chair, he touched, here and there,
the drapery over Helen. He seemed very solicitous that it should hang
perfectly right, covering the figure of the girl and the chair
completely from sight in every direction all around the stage.
The music, which had been playing softly, suddenly stopped at a wave of
Joe's hand. He stood for a moment motionless before the veiled figure.
"Her spirit is dissolving into thin air!" he said in a low voice, which,
nevertheless, carried to every one in the crowd.
Suddenly Joe took hold of the veil in the center and directly over the
outlined head of the figure in the chair. Quickly the young magician
raised the soft, black silk gauze, whisking it quickly to one side.
The audience gasped.
The chair, in which but a moment before Helen Morton had been seated,
was empty! The girl had disappeared--vanished! Joe stooped and raised
from the stage the newspaper. It showed not a sign of break or tear.
Then, before the applause could begin, the girl appeared, walking out
from one of the improvised wings of the circus stage. She smiled and
bowed. The act had been a great success. Now the silent admiration of
the throng gave place to a wave of hand clapping and feet stamping.
"Was it all right, Joe?" asked Helen, as he held her hand and they both
bowed their appreciation of the applause.
"Couldn't have been better!" he said. "We'll do this trick regularly
now. It takes even better than my ten thousand dollar box mystery. You
were great!"
"I'm so glad!"
The two performers were bowing themselves off the stage when suddenly
there came the unmistakable roar of a wild beast from the direction of
the animal tent. It seemed to shake the very ground. At the same time a
voice cried:
"A tiger is loose! One of the tigers is out of his cage!"
CHAPTER II
A DANGEROUS SWING
There is no cry which so startles the average circus audience as that
which is raised when one of the wild animals is said to be at large. Not
even the alarm that the big tent is falling or is about to be blown over
will cause such a panic as the shout:
"A tiger is loose!"
There is something instinctive, and perfectly natural, in the fear of
the wild jungle beasts. Let it be said that a tiger or a lion is loose,
and it causes greater fear, even, than when it is stated that an
elephant is on a rampage. An elephant seems a big, but good-natured,
creature; though often they turn ugly. But a lion or a tiger is always
feared when loose.
But the chances are not one in a hundred that a circus lion or a tiger,
getting out of its cage, would attack any one. The creature is so
surprised at getting loose, and so frightened at the hue and cry at once
raised, that all it wants to do is to slink off and hide, and the only
harm it might do would be to some one who tried to stop it from running
away.
Joe Strong, Jim Tracy, and the other circus executives and employees
knew this as soon as they heard the cry: "A tiger is loose." Who raised
the cry and which of the several tigers in the Sampson show was out of
its cage, neither Joe nor any of those in the big tent near him knew.
But they realized the emergency, and knew what to do.
"Keep your seats! Don't rush!" cried Joe, as he released Helen's hand
and hurried to the front of the platform. "There is no danger! The
animal men will catch the tiger, if one is really loose. Stay where you
are! Keep your seats! Don't rush!"
It is the panic and rush that circus men are afraid of--the pushing and
"milling" of the crowd and the trampling under foot of helpless women
and children.
There was some commotion near the junction of the animal tent and that
in which the main performance took place. What it was, Joe did not
concern himself about just then. He felt it to be his task to prevent a
panic. And to this he lent himself, aided by Helen, Jim Tracy, and
others who realized the danger.
And while this is going on and while the expert animal men are preparing
to get back into its cage the tiger which, it was learned afterward, had
got out through an imperfectly fastened door, time will be taken to tell
new readers something about Joe Strong and the series of books in which
he is the central character.
Joe Strong seemed destined for a circus life and for entertaining
audiences with sleight-of-hand and other mystery matters. His father,
Alexander Strong, known professionally as Professor Morretti, was a
stage magician of talents, and Joe's mother, who was born in England,
had been a rider of trick horses.
His parents died when Joe was young. He did not have a very happy
boyhood, and one day he ran away from the man with whom he was living
and joined a traveling magician, who called himself Professor Rosello.
With him Joe, who had a natural aptitude for the business, learned to
become a sleight-of-hand performer.
In the first book of the series, entitled "Joe Strong, the Boy Wizard;
Or, the Mysteries of Magic Exposed," is told how Joe got on in life
after his first start. Joe was not only a stage magician, but he had
inherited strength, skill and daring, and he liked nothing better than
climbing to great heights or walking in lofty and dizzy places where the
footing was perilous. So it was perhaps natural that he should join the
Sampson Brothers' Show. And in the second book is related, under the
title, "Joe Strong on the Trapeze; Or, the Daring Feats of a Young
Circus Performer," what happened to our hero under canvas.
Joe loved the circus life, even though he made some enemies. But he had
many friends. There was Helen Morton. Then there was Benny Turton, who
did a "tank act," and was billed as a "human fish." Jim Tracy, the
ringmaster, Bill Watson, the veteran clown, and his wife, the circus
"mother," Tom Layton, the elephant man who taught the big creatures many
tricks, were only a few of Joe's friends.
Among others might be mentioned Senor Bogardi, the lion tamer, Mrs.
Talfo, the professional "fat lady," Senorita Tanzalo, the pretty snake
charmer, and Tom Jefferson, the "strong man." Joe loved them all. The
circus was like one big family, with, as might be expected, a "black
sheep" here and there.
Joe became an expert on the trapeze, and, later, when Benny Turton was
temporarily in a hospital, Joe "took on" the tank trick. In the third
volume some of his under-water feats are related, while in the fourth
book Joe's acts on a motor cycle on the high wire are dealt with.
With his "Wings of Steel," Joe caused a sensation, and after an absence
from the circus for a time he joined it again, bringing this act to it.
Eventually Joe was made one of the circus owners, and now controlled a
majority of the stock. He had also inherited considerable money from his
mother's relatives in England, so that now the youth was financially
well off for one who had started so humbly.
The book immediately preceding this one is called "Joe Strong and His
Box of Mystery; Or, the Ten Thousand Dollar Prize Trick." In that volume
is related how Joe constructed a trick box, out of which he made his way
after it was locked and corded about with ropes. Helen Morton helped him
in this trick, which was very successful.
The circus management offered a prize of ten thousand dollars to
whomsoever could fathom how the trick was done. Bill Carfax, an enemy of
Joe's and a former circus employee, tried to solve the problem but
failed.
The box trick was a great attraction for the circus, and Joe was in
higher favor than before.
He had been on the road with the show for some time when the events
detailed in the first chapter of this book took place.
By dint of much shouting and urging the people to retain their seats and
not rush into danger, Joe Strong and the others succeeded in calming the
circus crowd. Meanwhile there was much suppressed excitement.
"Is the tiger caught? Is he back in his cage?" was asked on every side.
While Joe and his fellow showmen were calming the crowd, the animal men
were having their own troubles. Burma, one of the largest of the
tigers, had got loose, having taken advantage of the open door of his
cage. He rushed out with a snarl of delight at his freedom. His jungle
cry was echoed by the roar of a lion in the next cage, and this was
followed by the cries and snarls of all the wild jungle beasts in the
tent.
Fortunately the animal tent was deserted by all save the keepers, the
audience having filed into the tent where the main show was going on.
"Head him off now! Head him off!" cried Tom Layton, the elephant man, as
he saw the tiger dart out of its cage--a flash of yellow and black.
"Head him off! Don't let him get in the main top!"
"That's right! Head him off!" cried Senor Bogardi, the lion tamer. "He
won't hurt any one--he's too scared!"
This was true, but it was difficult to believe, and some of the people
seated in the "main top," or big tent, who were nearest the animal tent,
hearing the cries and learning what had occurred, spread the alarm.
Burma, the tiger, slunk around in behind the cages of the other animals.
All about him were men with clubs and pointed goads, with whips and
pistols. The circus men had had to cope with situations like this
before. They surrounded the tiger, advancing on him in an ever-narrowing
circle, and in a short time they drove him into an emergency cage which
was pushed forward with the open door toward him. Burma had no choice
but to enter, to get away from the cracking whips and the prodding
goads. And, after all, he was glad to be barred in again.
So, without causing any harm except for badly frightening a number of
people in the audience, the tiger was caged again, and the circus
performance went on.
Joe Strong did his Box of Mystery trick. The usual announcement of a
reward of ten thousand dollars to whomsoever could solve it was made,
and there was great applause when Joe managed to get out of the big box
without disturbing the six padlocks or the binding ropes.
"I'm glad Bill Carfax isn't here to make trouble, trying to show how
much he knows about this trick," said Joe to the ringmaster, as he
stepped off the stage at the conclusion of the trick.
"Yes, you put several spokes in Bill's wheels when you turned the laugh
on him that time," said Jim Tracy. "I don't believe he'll ever show up
around our circus again."
But they little knew Bill Carfax. Those who have read the book just
before this will recall him and remember how unscrupulous he was. But
his plans came to naught then. Any one who wishes to learn how the
wonderful box trick was worked will find a full explanation in the
previous volume.
Helen Morton received much applause at the conclusion of her act with
her trick horse, Rosebud. Joe Strong's promised wife was an accomplished
bareback rider, as well as one of her fiance's helpers in his mystery
tricks.
"Well, I'm glad to-day is over," said Helen to Joe that night, as they
went to the train that was to take them to the next city where the
circus performance would be given. "What with doing the vanishing lady
act for the first time in a long while and the tiger getting loose, we
have had quite a bit of excitement."
"Yes," agreed Joe. "But everything came out all right. I'm going to put
on a new stunt next week."
"What's that?" asked Helen. "Something in the mystery line?"
"No. I'm going back to some of my high trapeze work. You know, since we
lost Wogand there hasn't been any of the big swing work done."
"That's so," agreed Helen. "But I've been so busy practicing the
vanishing lady act with you on top of my other work that I hadn't given
it a thought. But you aren't going to do that dangerous trick, are you?"
"I think I am," Joe answered. "It's sensational, and we need sensational
acts now to draw the crowds. I used to do it, and I can again, I think,
with a little practice. I'm going to start in and train to-morrow."
"I wish you wouldn't," said Helen, in a low voice, but Joe did not seem
to hear her.
The big swing was a trapeze act performed on the highest of the circus
apparatus. Part of this apparatus consisted of two platforms fastened to
two of the opposite main poles, and up under the very roof of the big
top.
Midway between the platforms, which were just large enough for a man to
stand on, was a trapeze with long ropes, capable of being swung from one
resting place to the other. It was, in reality, a "big swing."
Joe's act, which he had often done, but which of late had been performed
by a man billed as "Wogand," was to stand on one platform, have the long
trapeze started in a long, pendulumlike swing by an attendant, and then
to leap down, catch hold of the bar with his hands, and swing up to the
other platform. If he missed catching the bar it meant a dangerous fall;
a fall into a net, it is true, but dangerous none the less. Its danger
can be judged when it is said that Wogand had died as an indirect result
of a fall into the net. He missed the trapeze, toppled into the net,
and, by some chance, did not land properly. His back was injured, his
spine became affected, and he died.
When circus performers on the high trapezes fall or jump into the safety
nets, they do not usually do it haphazardly. If they did many would be
killed. There is a certain knack and trick of landing in a net.
Joe Strong, ever having the interest of the circus at heart, had decided
to do this dangerous swing. He was an acrobat, as well as a stage
magician, and he had decided to take up some of his earlier acts which
had been so successful.
"But I wish he wouldn't," said Helen to herself. "I have a premonition
that something will happen." Helen was very superstitious in certain
ways.
But to all she said, Joe only laughed.
"I'm going to do the big swing," he replied simply.
CHAPTER III
TOO MANY PEOPLE
Hundreds of men toiling and sweating over stiff canvas and stiffer
ropes. The thud of big wooden sledge hammers driving in the tent stakes.
The rumble of heavy wagons, and a cloud of dust where they were being
shoved into place by the busy elephants.
On one edge of the big, vacant lot were wisps of smoke from the fires in
the stove wagons, and from these same wagons came appetizing odors.
Here and there men and women darted, carrying portions of their costumes
in their hands. Clowns, partly made up, looked from their dressing tents
to smile or shout at some acquaintance who chanced to be passing by.
All this was the Sampson Brothers' Circus in preparation for a day's
performance.
Joe Strong, having had a good breakfast, without which no circus man or
woman starts the day, strolled over to where Helen Morton was just
finishing her morning meal.
"Feeling all right?" he asked her.
"Well, yes, pretty well," she answered.
"What's the matter?" asked Joe quickly, as he detected an under note of
anxiety in the girl's voice. "Is your star horse, Rosebud, lame or off
his feed?"
"Oh, no," she answered. "It's just--Oh, here comes Mother Watson, and I
promised to help her mend a skirt," said Helen quickly, as she turned to
greet the veteran clown's wife. "See you later, Joe!" she called to him
over her shoulder as she started away.
The young magician moved away toward his own private quarters.
"I wonder what's the matter with Helen," he said. "She doesn't act
naturally. If that Bill Carfax has been around again, annoying her, I'll
put him out of business for all time. But if he had been around I'd have
heard of it. I don't believe it can be that."
Nor was it. Helen's anxiety had to do with something other than Bill
Carfax, the unprincipled circus man who had so annoyed her before Joe
discharged him. And, as Joe had said, the man had not been seen publicly
since the fiasco of his attempt to expose Joe's mystery box trick.
"Well, I suppose she won't tell me what it is until she gets good and
ready," mused Joe. "Now I'll go in and have a little practice at the big
swing before the parade."
Joe did not take part in the street pageant, though Helen did, riding
her beautiful horse to the admiration, not only of the small boys and
their sisters, but the grown-up throng in the highways as well. Helen
made a striking picture on her spirited, but gentle, steed.
It was not that Joe Strong felt above appearing in the parade. That was
not his reason for not taking part. He had done so on more than one
occasion, and with his Wings of Steel had created more than one
sensation.