Part 23 (1/2)

Back and forth, around and around, up and down, turning, somersaulting and doing all manner of swimming went Joe and Lizzie.

”I couldn't have a better act unless I got a real live mermaid to perform with me,” Joe decided, as Lizzie shot up out of the water to breathe.

Joe did not know the length of time the sea-lion could stay under water without breathing. Doubtless she could rival him, but she never did--at least, in the gla.s.s tank. A minute seemed to be her limit of endurance, though Joe had no means of making an accurate decision.

At any rate, the act was a big success, and Joe had to bow and bow again to the applause as he came out after his endurance test. This time he made it four minutes and eleven seconds, a gain of one, and he ascribed his better lung power to motor-cycle riding in the open air.

”Good work! Good!” was Jim Tracy's compliment at the conclusion of the performance.

”I'm glad to hear him say that,” said the boy fish. ”It will make it easier to ask for more money, for that's what I'm going to do.”

When the mail was distributed just before supper, there was a letter for Joe.

”h.e.l.lo! This is too bad!” Joe exclaimed as he read the note.

”What is it?” asked Helen.

”Bad news,” Joe answered. ”There isn't any hope for Benny after all!”

CHAPTER XIX

HELEN'S SOLUTION

Helen read the letter which Joe held out to her. It confirmed the news the boy fish had given. The note was from the physician who had first attended Benny in the circus tent, and stated that though originally it was hoped an operation would prevent the youth from becoming permanently deaf and dumb, such hope now had to be abandoned.

The physician went into the particulars of the case in writing to Joe, who, it seemed, had left word that he wished to be informed as to Benny's progress. It was his belief that the long continued practice of Benny in staying under water had brought on a disease of the ears and throat.

”I thought it would be comparatively easy to operate on him, or get some surgeon better qualified than I to do it,” wrote the hospital doctor. ”But, after a consultation, we have decided that it would be dangerous, and so, as far as we can see, there is no hope for your friend. He will not die--in fact, he is much stronger than he was--but he will be unable to speak or hear. He will write you himself shortly, he indicated to me. Just at present he is too down-hearted to do so.”

”Poor fellow,” murmured Helen, sympathetically, ”I should think he would be. Isn't it just perfectly terrible, Joe?”

”It certainly is hard luck!”

”Can't anything be done?”

”I don't see what,” was the moody answer. ”I was planning to--oh, well, no matter.”

”Go on, tell me,” Helen urged.

Joe shook his head.

”No. There isn't any use now,” he said. ”I--I can't do what I intended to, that's all. Poor Benny.”

”Yes; poor Benny,” echoed Helen.

The sad news concerning the ”human fish” soon spread among the circus folk, and much sympathy was expressed for Benny Turton. A movement was started to get up a purse for him, and a small sum was raised. Circus performers do not get the big salaries which theatrical stars are credited with, and, in addition, most of those with the Sampson Brothers' Show had families to support. Then, too, the circus was not one of the big ones. So, all told, not much was done for the youth in the hospital.

Helen and Joe each wrote him a letter, encouraging him as much as they could, but they both knew that the first sudden shock of hearing the bad news must wear off from Benny's mind before he could begin to be reconciled to it.

”Well, it isn't as bad as going blind,” remarked Helen with a sigh.