Part 5 (1/2)
Joe Strong gave a low whistle. It expressed at once surprise and dismay. He looked at Helen, and saw in her eyes deep sorrow for the unfortunate youth. For Benny Turton was loved by every one in the circus. His act was so peculiar that there was no professional jealousy against him, as there was against other performers, including Joe. And Benny was a gentle youth.
”Not able to join the circus again,” repeated Joe.
”No,” replied the physician.
”What is the trouble?” Helen queried. ”Was he hurt in the tank?”
”Well, it wasn't an accident, if you mean it that way,” went on the doctor. ”But his injuries and condition are due to long-continued tank-work.”
”How is that?” inquired Joe. He was interested, not only because he liked Benny Turton, but from a personal standpoint. Joe might have to give several more performances in the tank before some one was obtained to fill Benny's place, or until a new ”thriller” was subst.i.tuted for the tank scene, and Joe did not wish to run any chances. He had felt no ill effects from his immersion, save a slight inconvenience due to holding his breath, and this had pa.s.sed as soon as he was out of the water.
”Your friend Benny's trouble,” said the physician, ”is due to staying so long under water. I don't mean staying under too long at one time--there is a limit which nature fixes in that case. But I understand he has been doing this act twice a day now for some years.
He works, so I am told, under about eight feet of water. Of course divers have withstood greater pressures than that, but Benny has done it so constantly that he had injured himself.”
”Permanently?” Joe asked.
”That remains to be seen. But it is certain now that he is in great danger of becoming deaf and dumb.”
”Oh!” exclaimed Helen, sympathetically. ”Poor Benny, never to speak or hear again!”
”Well, we may be able to save him, but that can not yet be said with certainty,” stated the doctor. ”You see the water pressure on his ear drums, and on his vocal cords, caused by his act in picking up coins in his mouth while under water, has, to a certain extent, injured them. He is in a bad way now.”
”Can he speak?” asked Helen.
”Only a little. And he can hear less.”
”We'd like to see him,” put in Joe.
”I think that can be arranged,” the doctor said. ”I'll go and find out how he is now.”
”That was the meaning of all the pains and queer feelings Benny had,”
said Joe to Helen, as they were left alone in the waiting room of the hospital. ”You know he often spoke about a pain at the back of his head.”
”Yes, you mentioned it several times,” Helen remarked. ”Oh, I am so sorry for him! I wonder if there is anything we can do for him.”
”I'll find out when we see him,” answered Joe. ”But I don't know what I ought to do. If he can't go on with his act to-night----”
”Oh, surely he can't!” Helen interrupted.
”No, I reckon not,” Joe agreed slowly. ”Well, that means I'll have to do it, I suppose, if they have it billed. It won't do to shut it off suddenly. We'll have to wait until we get to another town, and we show here another day. I guess I'll have to let Jim Tracy know that Benny won't be with the show again right away.”
”I suppose that would be best,” Helen said. ”We'll go back to the tent as soon as we've seen Benny.”
They found the young circus tank-actor propped up in the clean, white hospital bed, with a pleasant-faced nurse hovering about him. Benny looked pale and wan, though perhaps some of his pallor was caused by the white pillows and bedspread.
”Well, old man, how goes it?” asked Joe, as he walked up, with extended hand.
Benny smiled, but did not answer.