Joe Strong The Boy Fire Eater - Vance Barnum
"Oh, Joe," Helen began, "are you really going to--" and then she
stopped.
"I am!" he answered, for he knew she understood. "Wait here for me. I
won't be long."
Only a few in the crowd had heard what Joe said, or understood his
intentions as he made his way through the press of people. The woman at
the window was unaware of the fact that some one had heard her and was
about to heed her appeal.
"A hundred dollars to whoever saves my cat!" she cried again.
This time no one laughed.
Joe Strong, acrobat, athlete, magician, and possessed of many other
muscular accomplishments started up the stairs. The lower part of the
office building was deserted at this hour, but he made his way to the
place where he judged the woman lived alone. He was confirmed in this
belief by hearing from behind a closed door the barking and whining of
dogs.
"She must keep a regular menagerie," mused Joe. "Probably these are all
the friends she has, poor old lady!"
He knocked on a door that seemed to be the entrance to the living
apartments. There was a cessation of the barking and whining, and a
moment later a querulous voice asked:
"Who is there? What do you want?"
"Is that your cat out on the wire?" asked Joe.
"Yes! Oh, yes! That's Peter! My favorite cat! Oh, have you saved him?
Have you got him down? No, you can't have! He's out on that wire yet!"
she cried. And then she opened the door.
Joe was confronted by the same woman he had observed leaning from the
window. Her face was pale, and she was quite elderly. But there was a
kind and pathetic look about her eyes. Once, she must have been
beautiful.
Joe had no time to speculate on what might have been the romantic
history of the woman. She looked eagerly at him.
"What do you want?" she demanded. "I never see any one. I live here
alone. I must beg you to excuse me. I have to see if some one will not,
save my cat."
"That is just what I came up for," said Joe, smiling. "I am a lover of
animals myself. I'd like to save your pet."
"Oh, if you will, I'll pay you the hundred dollars!" cried the woman. "I
have it!" she went on eagerly. "It's in here," and she motioned to the
rooms. They were tastefully, but not lavishly, furnished.
"We'll talk about that later," said Joe, with a smile. "The point is let
me get the cat first."
"But you can't get him from here--from these rooms!" the woman in black
exclaimed. "He's out on the wire! You'll have to climb up in some way!
Oh, I don't know how you can do it!" There were tears in her eyes and
she clasped her hands imploringly.
"I can't get your cat from the street," said Joe. "That's why I came up
here. I must walk out on the wire from your window. Have you a pair of
slippers? The older and softer the better--slippers with thin, worn
soles."
"Why, yes, I have. But you--you can't walk out on the wire! It is too
small, almost, for my cat! You can't do it! It is impossible!"
"Oh, no," answered Joe gently, "it isn't impossible. I have done it
before. If you'll let me get to a window near which the wire is
stretched, and if you will let me take a pair of old slippers."
"Come in!" interrupted the eccentric old woman, opening wide the door.
"I don't in the least know what you intend to do, but something seems to
tell me I can trust you. And if only you can save Peter--"
"I'll try," said Joe simply.
The woman began to search frantically in a closet, throwing out shoes,
dresses, and other feminine wearing apparel. As she delved among the
things, a shout arose from the street, the noise of the voices floating
in through the open window. Joe looked out.
"Oh, has Peter fallen?" cried the woman.
That, too, had been Joe's thought.
"No," he answered, as he took an observation. "Your cat has only changed
his position a little. I suppose the crowd thought it was going to fall,
but it's all right. I'll soon have it back to you. Is it a vicious cat?"
"Oh, no indeed. He's as gentle as can be. But perhaps he might be so
scared now that he wouldn't know what he was doing. I see what you mean.
Here, I'll give you an old pair of gloves for your hands."
"That's what I want," said Joe. "I can't afford to have my hands
scratched, as I do some legerdemain tricks. But I need some soft-soled
slippers more than I need gloves."
"Here is a pair," said the woman. "They're mine. I wear large ones, for
I like to be comfortable."
"They'll fit me," decided Joe, after an inspection. "Just what I want,
too!"
He began to take off his shoes.
"Do you really mean you are going to walk out on that wire and get my
cat?" asked the woman, comprehending his intention as she saw Joe
putting on the slippers and drawing on the old gloves she had given him.
They were a man's size, and he judged she must have used them in rough
work about the house.
"I'm going out on the wire to get your cat," he said.
"Oh, but I ought not to let you! You may fall and be killed! When I said
I'd give a hundred dollars to whoever would save Peter, I did not mean
that any one should risk his life. Much as I love my cat, I couldn't
allow that."
"I'll be all right," said Joe easily. "Walking wires is part of my
business. Now don't worry. And please don't scream if you are going to
watch me."
She looked at him curiously.
"I am not in the habit of screaming," she said quietly.
"Well, I thought it best to mention it," said Joe.
He was now ready for his most novel form of walking the wire. He moved
toward the window from which the woman had leaned. It was the same
casement whence the cat had started on its perilous journey. Joe felt
sure of himself. The slippers were just what he needed, with soft,
pliable soles, worn thin. They were the best substitute he could have
found for his circus shoes.
The wire from which the banner was suspended was fast to an eye-bolt
set in the brick wall of the building a little below the sill of the
window. It had been easy for the cat to step out and get on the cable.
Joe appeared at the window. He had taken off his coat and, in his white
shirt, blue tie, and black trousers, he made a striking figure in the
brilliant sunset light.
Instantly the crowd in the street saw him and divined his intention. Joe
doubted not that Helen was looking up at him.
It was an easy step for him from the window sill to the wire from which
was suspended the banner. He knew it would support his weight in
addition to the big net affair. The size of the cable and the manner in
which it was fastened told him that. Still he cautiously tried it with
one foot before trusting all his weight to it. The spring of the wire
told him all he needed to know.
Pausing a moment to make sure of himself, Joe Strong started to walk
across the wire toward the clinging cat. The crowd gave one roar of
welcome and approval, and then became hushed. This was what Joe wanted.
Now it was just as if he were doing the act in the circus. Only there
was this difference--there was no safety net below him. But it was not
the first time Joe had taken this risk. True, beneath him were the hard
stones of the street, but a fall from the height at which he now was
would be fatal, no matter what the character of ground under him. He
dismissed all such thoughts from his mind.
Slowly, and with the caution he always used, Joe started on his journey
across the wire. The cat felt his coming, and turned its head, as it
crouched down, and looked at him. But it did not move. The creature was
literally "scared stiff."
Foot by foot Joe progressed. Below him the crowd watched breathlessly.
Joe knew Helen was there, praying for him, though he could not see her.
In the window stood the figure in black, a silent, hopeful but much
worried woman. She kept her promise not to scream, but Joe realized that
the crucial moment was yet to come.
On and on he went nearer and nearer to the crouching cat. If only the
animal would have sense enough to lie still and not make a fuss when he
picked it up, Joe felt that all would be well.
But would Peter behave? That was the question.
Joe was now almost over the middle of the street. Far below him was the
crowd--a sea of upturned faces, reddened by the reflected rays of the
setting sun. The throng was silent. Joe was glad of that.
"Keep still now, Peter, I'm coming for you!" said Joe in a low voice.
"That's right, Peter!" added the woman. "Be a good cat now. You are
going to be saved! Keep still and don't scratch!"
Whether the cat heard and understood it is hard to say. But it uttered a
pitiful:
"Mew!"
Inch by inch, foot by foot Joe advanced. He was quite sure of himself
now. He felt that he could easily have walked across the wire from
building to building, with the street chasm below him, and even could
have made the return trip. But picking up the cat and carrying it back
was another thing. It would have been easier for Joe to have carried a
man across on his back. He could direct the motions of the man. Could he
those of the cat?
Still he was going to try.
On and on he went. The woman in black was leaning from the window,
holding out her arms as though to catch Joe should he fall.
But he did not think of falling.
In another few seconds he was standing right over the cat. He could see
the animal's claws tensely clinging to the rope strands that held the
banner. Now came ticklish work.
"Easy, Peter! Go easy now!" said Joe soothingly.
He slowly and carefully stooped down. It was a trick he had often
performed in the circus on the high wire. But never under circumstances
like this.
Joe's hands came in contact with the fur of the cat's back. He gently
stroked the animal, murmuring:
"Come on now, Peter! Let go! Loosen your claws! I'm not going to hurt
you. Let me pick you up!"
Again it is hard to say that the cat knew what Joe was saying, but it
certainly made its body less tense. The claws were loosed. Joe
straightened up, holding the cat in his arms. He could feel its heart
beating like some overworked motor.
A roar arose from the crowd, but it was instantly hushed. The throng
seemed to realize that the return journey was infinitely more perilous
than the outward one had been.
Joe could not turn. He must walk backward to the window, carrying the
cat, which at any moment might become wild and scramble from his arms,
upsetting his balance.
Yet Joe Strong never faltered.
CHAPTER XII
THE FIRE ACT
Realizing that he must use every caution, Joe Strong had two things to
think of. One was himself, and the other the cat. He could not carry the
creature in his arms, as he needed to extend them to balance himself. He
had walked short distances along slack wires without doing this, but in
those cases he had been able to run, and his speed made up for the lack
of balancing power of the extended arms. Now, however, he needed to
observe this precaution.
What could he do with the cat?
In that moment of peril a boyhood scene arose to Joe's mind. He recalled
that on the farm where he had lived there was a pet cat which liked to
crawl up his back and curl on his shoulders, stretching out completely
across them and snuggling against the back of his head.
"If I can get this cat to do that I'll be all right," thought Joe. "I'll
try it."
Balancing himself, he changed the cat's position and put it up on his
shoulder. Even if it rested on only one it would leave his hands free
and he could extend his arms and balance himself. But Peter seemed to
know just what was wanted of him. With a little "mew," the animal took
the very position Joe wanted it to--extended along his back, close to
his head.
And not until then did Joe begin to step backward. Breathlessly the
crowd watched him. Step by step he went, feeling for the wire on which
he placed his feet. And each step made him more confident.
The crowd was silently watching. It was reserving its wild applause.
Step by step Joe walked backward until he heard the low voice of the
woman at the open window.
"Shall I take Peter now?" she asked.
"Can you reach him?" asked Joe. He knew he was close to the building.
"Yes," she answered.
"Then do," said Joe. "He may try to spring off when he sees himself so
close to you. Take him. I'll stand still a moment."
He felt the cat stirring. The next instant he was relieved of Peter's
weight, and then, with a quick turning motion, Joe himself was half way
within the window and sitting on the sill.
He had walked out on the wire, stretched a hundred feet above the
street, and rescued the cat. The pet was now in the arms of the woman in
black.
And then such a roar as went up in the crowd! Men thumped one another
on the back, and then shook hands, wondering at their foolishness and
why there was such a queer lump in their throats.
"Oh! Oh!" gasped the woman, as she hugged Peter to her. "I can never
thank you enough--not in all my life. It may be foolish to care so much
for a cat. But I can't help it. It isn't all that. I couldn't have borne
it to have seen him fall and be killed."
"He's all right now--after he gets over being scared," said Joe, as he
stroked the cat in the arms of the woman in black.
"And now will you let me know to whom I am indebted?" she asked. "Please
come in, and I'll pay you the reward."
"Well, I'll come in and put on my shoes," said Joe, with a smile. "I
didn't need the gloves," he added. "Peter was very gentle."
"Oh, he's a good cat!" said his mistress. "And now," she added, when Joe
had resumed his shoes and coat, "will you please tell me your name and
how you learned to walk wires and rescue cats?"
"I never rescued cats before," Joe returned, smiling. "It's something
new. But walking wires is my trade--or one of 'em. I'm with the circus.
I do some tricks and--"
"Oh, are you the man who gets out of the box?" she cried. "I have read
about that trick."
"It is one of mine," said Joe modestly.
"I'm so glad to know you!" exclaimed the woman. She seemed less of a
recluse than at first. "I haven't been to a circus for years--not since
I was a child," she continued, half sadly, Joe thought. "But I'm coming
to-night!" she exclaimed. "I'll have the janitor look after my cats and
dogs, and I'll go to the circus. I want to see you act. It will bring
back my lost youth--or part of it," she murmured.
"Allow me to make sure that you will be there," said Joe. "Here is a
reserved ticket. I will look for you."
"And now let me give you the reward I promised," begged the woman, as
Joe was about to leave. "I have the money here--in cash," she added
quickly. She went to a bureau, putting Peter down on a cushion. The cat
observed Joe intently. The woman came back with a roll of bills.
"No, really, I couldn't take it!" protested Joe. "I didn't save your cat
for money. I was glad enough to do it for the animal's sake."
"Please take it!" she urged. "I--I am well off, even if I live here,"
she said hesitatingly. "I shall feel better if you take it."
"And I shall feel better if you give it to the Red Cross," said Joe.
"That needs it, to help the stricken, more than I do. I make pretty good
money myself," he added. "And I didn't do this for a reward."
"But I promised it!"
"Well, then consider that I took it, and you, in my name, may pass it on
to the Red Cross," said Joe. "And now, may I ask your name?"
The woman told him. It was Miss Susan Crawford. The name meant nothing
to Joe, though he afterward learned she was a member of an old, wealthy
and aristocratic family. She had had an unfortunate love affair, and,
her family having all died, she made for herself a little apartment in
one of her many buildings and lived there with her pets--a recluse in
the midst of a big city. It was a pathetic story.
"I wish you would let me reward you in some way," said Miss Crawford
wistfully, as Joe left. "You did so much, and you get nothing out of
it."
"Oh, yes I do," returned the young acrobat. "I'll get a lot of
advertising out of this, and it will be the best thing in the world for
the circus."
And Joe was right. The next day the papers all carried big stories of
his wire-walking feat to save the cat that had ventured out over the
street and was afraid to go back. Bigger crowds than ever came to the
circus.
As she had promised, Miss Crawford was at the evening performance, and
Joe introduced a little novelty in one of his "magic stunts," producing
a cat instead of a rabbit from a man's pocket. As he held it up he
looked over and smiled at the old lady in black, for he had given her a
seat near his stage. She smiled back.
Joe never saw her again. She was found dead a few months later in her
lonely rooms, with her cats and dogs around her. But Joe always
remembered her.
The street wire-walking feat was the talk of the city, and when, the
following day, Joe announced that he was ready to put on his fire act,
which had been well advertised, every one was on figurative tiptoes to
see what it would be.
Joe had made all his preparations, and he had taken care to provide
against danger and accidents. He realized the risk he was running in
handling fire in a circus tent before crowds of people. But
extinguishers were provided, and one of the fire-fighting force of the
circus was constantly on hand.
After the preliminary whistle of the ringmaster which ended the other
acts and prepared for Joe's new one, the young magician advanced to the
platform and gave a little "patter."
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "in introducing my new act I wish,
first of all, to assure you that there is no danger. Even though I seem
to be in the midst of fire, do not be alarmed. I shall be safe, and no
harm will come to you."
Joe did this to forestall a possible panic.
"You have all heard of the ancient salamanders," he went on. "It is
reputed that this animal was able to live in the midst of fire. As to
the truth of that I can not say. I never saw a salamander, that I know
of. But that fire may safely be handled by human beings, and not at the
risk of being burned, I am about to demonstrate to you. I shall first
show you how to carry fire about in your hands, so that if you run short
of matches at any time you will not lack means of igniting the gas,
starting your kitchen range, or enjoying your smoke. While the stage is
being made ready for my main act, I will show you how to carry fire in
your hands."
CHAPTER XIII
A SENSATIONAL DIVE
Striking a match, Joe ignited two candles that stood on a little table
at one side of his stage. On the other side his assistants were setting
up the apparatus he intended to use in his more elaborate experiments.
"You observe that the trick has not yet begun," said Joe, with a laugh,
as he blew out the match. "In other words, I am lighting these candles
in the ordinary way--just as any one of you would do it, if he needed
to. In a moment I will show you how to light the candles in case one is
accidentally blown out and you have no match."
Allowing both candles to burn up well, with clear, bright flames, Joe
suddenly blew out one.
"Now," he said, "I will show you how to carry fire in your hands from
the lighted to the unlighted candle. Watch me closely!"
Joe cupped his hands around the lighted candle, seeming to take the
flame up in his fingers. When he removed his hands, which he still held
in cup, or globular, shape, the second candle had been extinguished.
Both were now out.
"You will notice that I am carrying the flame in my hands from one
candle to the other," said Joe, in a loud voice, as he walked across the
stage.
For an instant he spread his hands, cup fashion, around the candle he
had first blown out. Suddenly he withdrew his hands, holding them wide
apart and in full view of the audience, and, lo! the unlighted candle
was glowing brightly.
There was a moment of silence, and then the applause broke forth. Joe
bowed and said:
"That is how to carry fire in your hands. But please don't any of you
try it unless you get the directions from me."
"Tell us how to do it!" piped up a small boy.
"Come and see me after the show!" laughed Joe.
And, while on this subject, it might be well to explain how Joe did the
trick. It is very simple, but it takes practice, and an amateur may
easily be fatally burned in the attempt, simple as it is.
Joe lighted the candles in the usual way, with a match, as already
explained. There was no trick about this, nor about blowing out one. But
immediately after that the trick started. Joe placed a little piece of
waxed paper between the first and second fingers of his left hand as
soon as he had blown out the first candle. This paper was a slender
strip, and could not be seen by the audience.
When he cupped his hands around the remaining lighted candle Joe
ignited this waxed strip, taking care to work it away from his palms and
fingers. It burned with a tiny flame and with scarcely any heat in the
middle of the hollow cup formed by his hands.
As soon as he had ignited the paper Joe, by pressing the lower edges of
his palms against the blazing wick of the candle, extinguished it. This
had the same effect as though he had "pinched" out the flame with finger
and thumb, as many country persons put out, or "snuff," candles
to-day--for candles are still much used in some places.
Now we have Joe with a little blazing taper concealed in his cupped
hands, advancing to the candle he first blew out. He placed his hands
around this, lighted the wick from the taper, which he at once crushed
between his fingers, and the trick was done.
The candle was lighted, the remains of the little taper were concealed
between Joe's fingers, and it looked as though he had really carried
fire in his hands. The quickness with which he pinched out the candle
flame, and also smothered the taper after he had used it, prevented him
from being burned in the slightest. But it is best for a boy unpracticed
and without the dexterity of a professional prestidigitator not to
undertake to play with fire.
Joe Strong believed in doing his tricks and acts artistically and
elaborately. He had watched other performers "dress their act," and he
had often improved on what even stage veterans had done. His
apprenticeship had been a stern but good one.
And now he was going to introduce something novel in his fire-eating
tricks, but he was also going to add to that. He had read considerable
of late about the fire-eating tricks of the old "magicians" and had
delved into many curious old books. Now he was going to give his
audience some of this information.
"There is a trick in everything," said Joe, as he faced his audience in
readiness for the fire-eating act. "If I told you that I actually
swallowed blazing fire, any physician would know that I was not telling
the truth. I do not really eat the fire. I only seem to do so. But if in
doing so I can deceive you into thinking I do, and you are thrilled and
amused, you get your money's worth, I earn mine, and we are all
satisfied. So don't be alarmed by what you see.
"The resistance of the human body to heat is greater than many persons
suppose," said Joe. "And there is a vast difference between wet heat and
dry heat. Water, above one hundred and fifty degrees, would be
unbearable. It would really burn you badly. Water, as you know, boils at
two hundred and twelve degrees Fahrenheit. But before this point is
reached it is capable of ending life.
"Dry heat, however, is different. Men have frequently borne without
permanent discomfort dry heat up to three hundred degrees. This heat is
often reached in the drying rooms of oilcloth and oiled silk factories.
"Now the fire I handle is dry heat. I would no more think of pouring
boiling water over my hands than I would of taking poison. And yet I
will show you that I can thrust my hand into a blazing fire and suffer
no harm.
"In an old book I read that to enable one to thrust one's hands into the
fire all you had to do was to anoint them with a mixture of _bol
armenian_, quicksilver, camphor and spirits of wine. I should prefer to
leave that mixture alone, though in the book it is said that if one puts
that mixture on his hands he may handle boiling lead.
"Perhaps some ancient magician did this, but I think he depended more on
water than on anything else. If your hands are wet there is formed on
them a film of moisture which, for a moment, will enable you to
withstand high degrees of dry heat.
"In another old book I read that if one prepared himself with 'liquid
stortax,' which is juice from a certain tree growing in Italy, he could
enter fire, bathe in fire, put a burning coal on his tongue, and even
swallow fire.
"Now I am not going to let you into all my secrets. You shall see--what
you shall see!" concluded Joe.
As intimated before, the method Joe Strong used is not going to be
printed here. You have been given some genuine ancient formulae, safe in
the knowledge that some of the ingredients can not be obtained. And the
modern substitutes are not going to be told. Enough to say that Joe had
"prepared himself."
The young magician looked to see that all was in readiness. Perceiving
that it was, he retired for a moment to a cabinet set up on the stage,
and when he came out he was ready for his tricks.