er. "Take it with you, and show it to Miss
Morton."

"Thank you," the young trapeze performer responded. "I'll mail yours
back to you as soon as I've compared the names."

"Oh, you don't need to do that," said Mr. Buchard with a rueful laugh.
"It isn't worth the price of a good cigar."

Joe wrote to Helen, telling her he would soon be with the circus again,
but he did not mention the stock certificate.

"There'll be time enough to tell her when I find out if it's the same
concern," he reasoned. "It may not be. After all, the stock Sanford
sold her may be valuable."

But Joe's hope was a faint one.

The day came when he was able to leave the hospital. He found that not
only had all bills been paid, but that there was an allowance to his
credit. Helen had thought he would need money to travel with, and had
left him a sum.

"Of course I'll pay her back when I get the chance," Joe reflected.
"The circus will pay the hospital and doctor's bills--they always do.
And I've got money enough saved up to pay Helen back."

Joe was really making a good salary, and he was careful of his money,
not wasting it as some of the more reckless performers did.

He said good-bye to his nurse, to the orderlies and to the physician
who had attended him.

"Now don't try to rush things," the doctor warned Joe. "You must favor
your neck and shoulder muscles for a couple of weeks yet. They will be
lame and sore if you don't. Take it easy, and gradually work up to
your former exploits. If you do that you'll be all right."

Joe promised to be careful, and then, with the stock certificate safely
in his pocket--though it was of no value, he reflected--he set out to
rejoin the circus, which had moved on several hundred miles since his
accident.

"I wonder if she'll lose her money," mused Joe, as he rode on in the
train. "It would be too bad if she did. Of course it isn't all in
this oil syndicate, but enough of it is to make a big hole in her
little fortune. Hang it all, if this oil stock turns out bad I'll take
that Sanford up to the top of the tent and drop him off."

He smiled grimly at this novel form of revenge. But really he was very
much in earnest.

"Something will have to be done," Joe decided. But he did not know
just what.

In due time he reached the town where the circus was showing. As Joe's
train pulled in he saw, on a siding, the big yellow cars, with the name
Sampson Brothers painted on their sides. T