“That’s the idea!” exclaimed Jim Tracy, hurrying over to where the three gymnasts stood. “Give ’em some more of that, Joe!”

“I haven’t any more like that just now,” answered the young circus performer, panting slightly, for he was a bit out of breath from his exertion and the anxiety lest his trick should fail.

“Well, do it again at to-night’s performance, then,” urged the ring-master, and Joe nodded in agreement.

“It was a good trick, my boy,” said Tonzo Lascalla, “but don’t try it too often.”

“Why not?” Joe asked.

“Because it is risky. I might not catch you some day.”

“I’d only fall into the life net if you did miss,” said Joe coolly, though, for a moment, he thought there might be a hidden meaning in what his fellow-performer said.

“Well, it is not every one who knows how to fall into a life net,” put in Sid Lascalla. “If one lands on his head the neck is likely to be dislocated.”

“I know how to fall,” Joe declared, and, though he spoke positively, he was not in the least boastful. “Here, I’ll show you,” he went on.

Their act was not quite finished, but before going on with the next gymnastic feat Joe caught hold of a hoisting rope that ran through a pulley, and, at a nodded signal, one of the ring-men hauled the lad up to the top of the tent to the little platform where Joe had stood when taking his place on the high trapeze.

Joe signaled to the ring-master that he was going to make a jump into the net from that height, and at once the crowd again became aware that something unusual was going on. It was a jump seldom made, at least in The Sampson Brothers’ Circus. The platform was fully twenty feet higher than the trapeze from which Joe and his fellow-performer had dropped a few minutes before. And, as Sid Lascalla had said, there was a risk even in jumping into a life net. But Joe Strong seemed to know what he was about.

“Say, he’s going to do some jump!” exclaimed Benny Turton, who came into the ring at that moment, dressed in his shimmering, scaly suit, ready to do his “human fish” act.

“That’s what!” cried Jim Tracy. “Give him the long roll and the boom!” he called to the leader of the musicians.

As Joe poised for his jump the snare drummer rattled out a “ruffle,” and as it started Joe leaned forward and leaped.

Down he went, for a few feet, as straight as an arrow. Then he suddenly doubled up into a sort of ball, and began turning over and over. The crowd held its breath. The drum continued to rattle out its thundering accompaniment. How many somersaults Joe turned none of the spectators reckoned, but the youthful performer kept count of them, for he wanted to “straighten out,” to land on his feet in the net.

“He’ll never do it!” predicted Tonzo Lascalla.

And it did begin to look as though Joe had miscalculated.

But no. Just before he reached the springy life net he straightened out and came down feet first, bouncing up, and down like a rubber ball. The instant he landed the bass drum gave forth a thundering “boom,” and as Joe rose, and came down again, the drummer punctuated each descent with a bang, until the crowd that had applauded madly at the jump was laughing at the queer effect of Joe’s bouncing to the accompaniment of the drum.

“He did it!” cried Jim Tracy. “It was a great jump. We’ll feature that now.”

He looked at Sid and Tonzo Lascalla, as though asking why they had not worked something like this into their acts previously. But the Spaniards only shrugged their shoulders and raised their eyebrows.

“That was great, Joe!” exclaimed Benny Turton, as Joe leaped to the ground over the edge of the life net. “Great!”

Joe smiled happily.

“It was wonderful,” added Helen Morton, who was about to put her trick horse, Rosebud, through his paces. “It was wonderful but I don’t like to see anybody take such risks.”

“Anybody?” asked Joe in a low voice.

“Well, then you,” she whispered, as she ran off to her ring.

“Well, I did it, you see,” observed Joe to his two partners. “I guess I know how to fall into a net.”

“You sure do!” averred the ring-master. “Try that at each performance, Joe.”

“Only be careful,” added Tonzo Lascalla. “We do not want to have to get another partner.”

The act of Joe and the two other “Lascalla Brothers” came to an end with Joe and Sid hanging suspended from the legs of Tonzo, who supported himself on a swinging trapeze. It made an effective close.

Joe was through then, and could watch the rest of the show or go to bed, as he pleased. He elected to stay in the “main top” and watch Helen in her act. He was also much interested in the “human fish.”

“Pshaw!” Joe heard Jim Tracy murmur, as he, too, looked at Benny in the tank. “He isn’t staying under as long as he used to, not by half a minute. I wonder what’s the matter with him. First we know he’ll be cutting the time, and we’ll hear a howl from the public. That won’t do! I’ll have to give him a call-down.”

Joe felt sorry for Ben, who did not seem at all well. Joe thought he had better not interfere, but he resolved to speak to the water-performer privately, and see if he could not help him.

Joe repeated his sensational acts at the next day’s performances, and that night he and the others in the circus moved on to the next stand. Joe wrote a line to Professor Rosello, telling him of the success.

It was a quite novel experience for Joe, traveling with a circus. But he was used to sleeping cars by this time, on account of the going from town to town with the magician.

However, he had never before had a berth in a train filled with circus performers, and, for a time, he could not sleep because of the strangeness. But he soon grew used to it, and in a few nights he could doze off as soon as he stretched out.

Joe’s new suit of pink tights arrived. It matched those of the Lascalla Brothers. In fact, Joe was now billed as one of that trio, though, of course, he went by his own name in private. He was sufficiently dark as to hair and complexion to pass for a Spaniard.

To quote his own words, Joe was “taking to the circus life as a duck does to water.” He seemed to fit right in. He made some new friends, but of all the men or youths in the show he liked best Benny Turton and the ring-master. Joe and the Lascalla Brothers got along well, but there was not much intimacy between them, though they worked well in the “team.”

Joe was on the lookout for any signs of Sim Dobley, but that unfortunate man did not appear, as far as our hero could learn. If Sid or Tonzo made further appeals for his reinstatement they said nothing about it to Joe.

As the show went on, playing from town to town, Joe become more and more used to the life. He liked it very much, and each day he was becoming more proficient on the trapeze.

One day, about two weeks after he had joined the circus, Joe had an idea for a new feat. It involved his jump from a distance, catching Tonzo Lascalla by the legs and hanging there. It was harder than making a leap for the other performer’s hands, since, if Joe missed his clutch, Tonzo would have a chance to grab him with his hands. But when Joe leaped for his partner’s feet a certain margin of safety was lost.

It was not that a fall would be dangerous if Joe missed, for the life net was below him. But the effect of the trick would be spoiled.

They practised the trick in private Joe and Tonzo and for a time it did not seem to work. Joe fell short every time of grasping the other’s legs.

“You will never do it,” said Sid, and there was a queer look on his face as he glanced at Tonzo. The other seemed to wink, just the mere fraction of a wink, and then, like a flash, it came to Joe.

“He doesn’t want me to do it,” thought our hero. “Tonzo wants me to fail. He doesn’t want me to be successful, for he thinks maybe he can get Sim back. But I’ll fool him! I think he has been drawing up his legs the instant I jumped for them, so I would miss. I’ll watch next time.”

This Joe did, and found his surmise right. Just before he reached with outstretched hands for Tonzo’s legs, the man drew them slightly up, and, as a result, Joe missed.

“Here’s where I turn a trick on him,” mused the young performer, as he failed and landed in the net In his next attempt Joe leaped unusually high, and though Tonzo drew up his legs he could not pull them beyond Joe’s reach.

“That’s the time I did it!” cried Joe, as he made the catch and swung to and fro.

Sid, on the ground below, shrugged his shoulders, and said something to Tonzo in Spanish.