his neck and set the bar and ropes in motion.
They moved slowly, and through only a short arc at first. But in a
little while Joe, in his perilous position, was executing a long swing.

His feet were pressed against the ropes and his hands were on his hips.
He balanced his body instinctively in this posture. But this was not
all of the trick.

When the trapeze was swinging as high as he wanted it, Joe suddenly
brought his legs together. For an instant he poised there on the bar,
supporting himself on his neck and shoulders, as straight as an arrow.

Then, with a shout to warn those below, he fell over in a graceful
curve, and began a series of rapid somersaults in the air.

Down he fell, the hushed attention of the big crowd being drawn to him.
Just before reaching the life net, Joe straightened out and fell into
the meshes feet first, bouncing out on a mat and from there bowing his
thanks for the applause.

Thus Joe brought his act to a close for that afternoon, and he was glad
of it for he wanted to go out and see if Helen had returned. As soon
as he had changed to his street clothes he sought her tent.

The women of the circus dressed together, each one in a sort of canvas
screened apartment, and in the Sampson Brothers' Show they also had a
sort of ante-room to the dressing tent, where they could receive their
friends.

There was no one in this room when Joe entered, save some of the maids
which the higher-salaried circus women kept to help them dress, "make
up" and so on.

"Is Miss Morton in?" asked Joe of a maid who knew him.

"No, Mr. Strong. I don't believe she has returned yet. I'll go and
look in her room, though." The maid came back shaking her head.

"She isn't there," she told Joe.

"I wonder where she can be," he mused. "Why didn't she leave some
word? Are you sure there wasn't a letter or anything on her trunk?" he
inquired of the maid.

"Well, I didn't look. You may go in if you like. I guess it will be
all right."

None of the performers were in the dressing tent then, being out in the
big one doing their acts. Joe knew his way to Helen's room, having
been there many times, for there would often be little impromptu
gatherings in it to talk over circus matters between the acts.

He looked about for a letter, thinking she might have left one for him
before going away. He saw nothing addressed to himself, but on the
ground, where it had evidently dropped, was an open note. J