Joe Strong on the Trapeze Part 20

"Well, you'll get over that. Let's see what's up."

By this time the aisle of the car was filled with excited men performers. They all wanted to know what had happened, their location and various other bits of information.

"The train jumped the track," said Joe, who appeared the coolest of the lot. "We don't seem to have hit anything, though at first I thought we had. We're right side up, if not exactly with care."

"Where are we?" demanded Tonzo Lascalla.

"We ought to be near Far Hills, according to the time table," Joe answered. "If I could get a look out I could tell."

He went to the end of the car and peered out. It was a bright moonlight night, and Joe was able to recognize the locality. As a boy he had tramped all around the country within twenty-five miles of Bedford, in the vicinity of which they now were, and he had no difficulty in placing himself. He found that he had guessed correctly.

By this time there was an excited crowd of trainmen and circus employees outside the coaches which had left the rails. Joe and some of the others slipped on their clothes and went out to see what had happened.

Joe's first glance was toward the coach in which he knew Helen rode.

He was relieved to see that though it had also left the rails it was standing upright. In fact, none of the cars had tilted more than was to be expected from the accident.

"Well, this is a nice pickle!" exclaimed Jim Tracy, bustling up. "This means no parade, and maybe no afternoon show. How long will it take you to get us back on the rails?" he asked one of the brakemen.

"Hard to say," was the answer. "We'll have to send for the wrecking crew. Lucky it's no worse than a delay."

"Yes, I suppose so," agreed the ring-master. It was only one train of the several that made up the circus which had left the rails. The animal cars were on ahead, safe, and the sections following the derailed coaches had, by a fortunate chance, not left the rails.

"What caused us to jump?" asked Benny.

"There was a fish plate jammed in a switch," answered one of the brakemen. "We found it beside the track where we knocked it out, and that saved the other trains from doing as we did."

"A fish plate in the switch?" repeated Joe. "Did it get there by accident?"

"Ask me something easier," quoted the brakeman. "It might have, and again it might not. I understand you discharged a lot of men at your last stop, and it may be some of them tried to get even with you."

It was true that a number of canvasmen had been allowed to go because they were found useless, but none of the circus men believed that these individuals would do so desperate a deed as to try to wreck the train.

Joe thought of the threatening letter he had received--Sim Dobley was the writer, he was sure--but even Sim would hardly try anything like this. He might feel vindictive against Joe, and try to do him some harm or bring about Joe's discharge.

But to wreck a train----

"I don't believe he'd do that," reasoned Joe. "I won't mention the letter--it would hardly be fair. I don't want to get him into trouble, and I have no evidence against him."

So Joe kept quiet.

The circus trains ahead of the derailed one could keep on to their destination. After some delay those in the rear were switched to another track, and so pa.s.sed around the stalled cars.

Then the wrecking crew arrived, and just as the first gray streaks of dawn showed the last of the cars was put back on the track.

"Well, we're off again," remarked Joe, as, with Benny and some of their friends, they got back in their berths.

"Not much more chance for sleep, though," the "human fish" remarked, dolefully enough.

"Oh, I think I can manage to get some," said, Joe, as he covered up, for the morning was a bit chilly.

"I hope my gla.s.s tank didn't get cracked in the mix-up," remarked Benny. "It wouldn't take much to make that leak, and I've had troubles enough of late without that."

"Oh, I guess it's perfectly safe," remarked Joe, sleepily.

The excitement caused by the derailing was soon forgotten. Circus men are used to strenuous happenings. They live in the midst of excitement, and a little, more or less, does not bother them. Most of them slept even through the work of getting the train back on the rails.

Of course the circus was late in getting in--that is the derailed train with its quota of performers was. Early in the morning, when they should have been on the siding near the grounds, the train was still puffing onward.

Joe arose, got a cup of coffee in the buffet car, and went on ahead to inquire about Helen and some of his friends in the other coach.

"Oh, I didn't mind it much," Helen said, when Joe asked her about it.

"I felt a few b.u.mps, and I thought we had just struck a poor spot in the roadbed."

"She hasn't any more nerves than you have, Joe Strong," declared Mrs.

Talfo, "the fat lady."

"Did you mind it much?" Joe asked.

"Did I? Say, young man, it's a good thing I had a lower berth. I rolled out, and if I had fallen on anybody--well, there might have been a worse wreck! Fortunately no one was under me when I tumbled," and Mrs. Talfo chuckled.

"And you weren't hurt?" asked Joe.

The fat lady laughed. Her sides shook "like a bowlful of jelly," as the nursery rhyme used to state.

"It takes more than a fall to hurt me," said Mrs. Talfo. "I'm too well padded. But we're going to get in very late," she went on with a look at her watch. "The performers should be at breakfast at this time, to be ready for the street parade."

"We may have to omit the parade," said Joe.

"I wouldn't care," declared the fat lady with a sigh. "It does jolt me something terrible to ride over cobble streets, and they never will let me stay out."

"You're quite an attraction," said Joe, with a smile.

"Oh, yes, it's all right to talk about it," sighed Mrs. Talfo, "but I guess there aren't many of you who would want to tip the scales at five hundred and eighty pounds--advertised weight, of course," she added, with a smile. "It's no joke--especially in hot weather."

The performers made merry over the accident now, and speculated as to what might happen to the show. Their train carried a goodly number of the "artists," as they were called on the bills, and without them a successful and complete show could not be given.

"We may even have to omit the afternoon session," Joe stated.

"Who said so?" Helen demanded.

"Mr. Tracy."

"Well, it's better to lose that than to have the whole show wrecked,"

said the snake charmer. "I remember being in a circus wreck once, and I never want to see another."

"Did any of the animals get loose?" asked Joe.

"I should say they did! We lost a lion and a tiger, and for weeks afterward we had to keep men out hunting for the creatures, which the excited farmers said were taking calves and lambs. No indeed! I don't want any more circus wrecks. This one was near enough."