tention. As he said afterward, his visitor had about him the air of
the "profesh."

Joe's first impulse was to say that he knew of no job, or else to refer
his accoster to the head canvas man, who hired transient help in putting
up the main top and in pulling or driving stakes. But as Joe observed
the man curiously watching him, he had another idea. Before he could act
on it, however, the man exclaimed:

"You do a fire-eating stunt, don't you?"

"Yes," Joe answered. And then it occurred to him to wonder how the man
knew. True he might have observed Joe in some of the many performances,
but the man did not look like one who would spend money on circus
tickets. He might have crawled under the tent, but it did not seem
exactly probable. And, of course, some of the circus employees plight
have pointed Joe out to the man as the actor who handled fire. But,
again, Joe did not believe this. So he asked:

"How did you know?"

For answer the man pointed to the pail of chemicals into which Joe was
about to dip a suit of tights.

"Smelled the dope," was the brief answer. "You're using tungstate of
soda, aren't you?"

"Yes," answered Joe, surprised that a man, evidently of such a class,
should recognize the not very common chemical.

"We used to use alum in the old days," the man went on. "I guess the new
dope's better, though I never tried it."

"Are you in the business?" asked Joe.

"Well, I--er--I used to be," and the man straightened himself up with an
air of forgotten pride. "I was with a circus once--used to do a
fire-eating act and jump into a fake bonfire. I doped my clothes with
alum water though. That's great stuff for preventing the fire taking
hold if you don't stay in the blaze too long. But, as I say, they've
discovered something new."

"You used to be a fire-eater?" asked Joe curiously.

"Yes. And I was counted a pretty good one. But I lost my nerve."

"How?"

"Well--er--not to put too fine a point on it, I got too fond of the
fire-water. Couldn't stay on the water-wagon long enough, got careless
in my act, went down and out. Oh, it's the old story. You've probably
heard it lots of times. But I would like a job now. I'm actually hungry,
and I've seen the time I could blow the bunch to champagne and lobster."

Joe, on impulse, and yet, too, because he had an object, was just going
to offer the man help when he saw Mr. Moyne coming across the lot toward
him from the ticket wagon. The afternoon perfor