The Crimson Flash

  CHAPTER XII JOHNNY WINS DOUBLE PAY

  Johnny had scarcely reached the cluster of tents that loomed large in thedarkness, when he was startled by a sudden wild burst of activity. Menand boys rushed silently here and there; lanterns and searchlightsflashed from place to place. For a second he stood there paralyzed. Whatwas it, a fire or an approaching cyclone?

  Then he laughed.

  "We move to-night. Down go the tents."

  They did go down. Before his astonished eyes they disappeared as if bymagic. In all his life he had never seen anything that came near equalingthe team work displayed in the dropping of the big top and the loading ofthe circus.

  In a marvelously short time they were on their way. Johnny, because ofhis prospects of becoming a regular performer, had been assigned a berthin a sleeping car. Pant, being merely a hanger-on, slept as he had onmany another night, beneath the stars, with only a bale of canvas forcovering.

  Johnny spent a half hour in thought before the even click, click of thewheels lulled him to sleep. They were on their way, and he was glad.To-morrow he would have his try-out. To-morrow, too, he would give Gwenher second lesson in boxing. Should he ask her about the ring? To-morrowthey would be in one of those small cities in which Pant had said thecounterfeiters would reap their richest harvest. When would Pant find hisman? Would he, Johnny, have a part in it? He must not fail to fulfill hispromise to Pant; to get acquainted with the steam kettle cook and themidget clown.

  The next morning Johnny kept his boxing appointment with Gwen. It wasafter a half hour of strenuous work, while they were resting on a mat,that she turned to him suddenly and said, in a low voice:

  "A strange thing happened last night."

  "What was that?"

  "I was awakened from my sleep. I had been dreaming of a fire, and I wouldhave sworn that it was a flash of red light that awakened me."

  "That's strange." Johnny's tone told nothing.

  "What is stranger still, two other girls were awakened in the samemanner."

  "You had upper berths?"

  "Yes."

  "There were glass ventilator windows above you?"

  "Yes."

  "Probably the light from a switch tower shining in."

  "It was too bright for that. It was so bright it was crimson. It waslike--it was like the crimson flash that fell on the tiger that othernight!"

  "That _was_ strange," Johnny smiled, but his smile told nothing.

  He was not surprised when, as he met Pant a half hour later, the strangefellow said to him in a matter-of-fact tone:

  "It's the slim girl, the one that rides bareback, Millie, what is it theycall her?"

  "Millie Gonzales."

  "She's the one. She's got your ring."

  "I thought you might know," Johnny said quietly.

  Pant shot him a quick glance. "Somebody been talking?"

  "Not so you'd need be alarmed. But, say, now I know she's got it, how amI to get it from her?"

  "That's up to you," retorted Pant.

  "It's strange," said Johnny a little later; "last night I dreamed thatthe circus train was wrecked, all shot to smithereens! And theanimals--they were having the time of their lives, fighting each otherand eating folks up."

  "If that ever happens," Pant gripped his arm hard, "if it ever does, youget that big black cat! Get the black cat! See? He's a bad one; aman-eater. Got a record. A bad one. See?"

  Johnny nodded, and thought again of the story Pant was to tell him ofthat same black cat and the jungles of India. But there was no time forit now; the show would soon begin, and then would come the great event,his try-out.

  It came. All too soon he found himself marching down the sawdust trail.Dressed in his tightly fitting green suit, and closely followed by thebear, he felt foolish enough. He was a trifle awed by the immense throng,too. He had been in many a boxing match, but never one like this. Inthose other matches he had had men for opponents, and mostly men asspectators. Here it was far different.

  Anxious questions forced their way into his consciousness. How was theboxing bout going? Would he be able to manage the bear, or would theanimal, goaded on by the shouts of the crowd, repeat the performance ofthat other day, when he had run the Italian out of the tent?

  Cold perspiration stood out on Johnny's forehead, yet he did not falter.Bracing himself for his ordeal, he bowed low to the audience, then turnedto put the bear through his preliminary antics. All went well; still,through it all, Johnny's eyes strayed now and then to the boxing gloves.So real was his fear of the outcome of the match, that at times it seemedto him the gloves were alive and ready to leap from the floor into hisface.

  Yet, when the time came, the thing seemed as simple as child's play. Thebear performed his part perfectly. Johnny even risked a little extraexhibition by entering into a clinch with the bear and cleverlyextricating himself. The great test came, however, when the bear,appearing to grow angry, leaped squarely at him. Three times the greatbeast did this, then with a sudden cry of seeming terror, Johnny dartedfrom the ring and, closely followed by the bear, raced away before thepacked throng of amazed and delighted spectators. When the bear paused,threw his gloves and turned to leer at the audience, Johnny knew that hehad not only made good, but made good _big_. He had won his double pay.

  He was just rounding the outer entrance, with the applause of the crowddying away, when a small, shrill voice squeaked up to him:

  "You did fine. You're all right."

  Glancing down, Johnny had no difficulty in recognizing Tom Stick, themidget clown. He cut a comical figure as he stood there. A mere child insize, he was dressed in an African hunting suit and carried a shiny airrifle. Not far away, a gigantic elephant stood complacently stuffing hayinto his mouth.

  Johnny looked first at the midget, then at the elephant.

  "We go on next," squeaked the little fellow, "Jo-Jo, that's the elephant,and myself. I play I'm hunting wild elephants. See? Shoot him. See? Shoothim with the air gun all around the tent. Real bullets, too! He doesn'tmind. Hide's tough. We always get a laugh; Jo-Jo and I do. Want to knowhow we came to be friends, Jo-Jo and me?"

  Johnny nodded.

  "Well, you see, Jo-Jo was a French elephant. They didn't need him duringthe war, so they sent him over to America, and sold him here. Well, Jo-Joknew French all right, but he didn't understand a word of English. He wassupposed to be one of the smartest elephants in the world over in France,but over here he was so stupid they actually had to push him off the carswhen they unloaded him. Just plumb stupid. See? Got so they wished theydidn't have him at all.

  "Well, you know, I used to show in France once myself, so I knew a littleFrench, and one day, just for fun, I said to Jo-Jo:

  "'Bon jour, Jo-Jo. Comment alle vous!'"

  "Well, sir, that elephant nearly wiggled his old palm leaf ears off outof pure joy. I knew right away what made it; it was hearin' someone speakin his own language, so I just went right on spielin' French to him, andhe kept on gettin' happier and happier until at last I had to stop forfear he'd break a blood vessel laughin'.

  "When the Boss knew about it, he gave Jo-Jo to me, and we've been matesever since.

  "We've got to be movin' up. Good-by, Mr. Bear Boxer. See you some othertime."

  Johnny watched the dwarf, as he walked behind the elephant and, turning acorner, disappeared from sight.

  "So that's one of the fellows Pant suspects of being the forger, BlackMcCree? Not the man, I'd say," he muttered. "And yet, you never cantell."

  It was the next morning, while he was preparing for his daily bout withGwen, that Johnny received a shock of surprise which he did not soonforget.

  A unique plan for creating a new laugh had occurred to him. He wastelling it to Gwen.

  "They don't have the clown assist you in your turn, do they?" He smiled,as he laced her right glove.

  "No. How could they? I never saw a clown walk the tight wire."

  "Wouldn't need to
; just pretend to." He stooped to pick up her leftglove.

  "How?"

  "Well, you see, they might have two or three small balloons just largeenough to lift him off the ground. They could have small ropes attachedto each of these. The attendants--the--the--"

  Johnny's eyes had seen something which made him stutter. On the plumpthird finger of Gwen's left hand reposed _the_ ring, the diamond ring,which had been the means of making him a circus performer.

  "I--I'll take it off for you." He drew the ring from her finger.

  "Thanks," she smiled at him. "Awfully stupid of me to wear it. There's ahandkerchief in the right hand pocket of my blouse. Just wrap it in that,and put it in my pocket, please."

  For one brief second Johnny hesitated. Was this the moment of moments?The ring which would clear his good name was within his grasp. Should hesay, "Gwen, this belongs to a friend of mine, not to you; I must take itto her"?

  For an instant he looked into Gwen's frank blue eyes, then, without aword, he drew the handkerchief from her pocket, wrapped the ringcarefully up, then thrust it deep down in the pocket of her blouse.

  "As I was about to say," he continued with forced composure, "they couldhold the balloons steady, while the clown tripped lightly along the wire.Perhaps he might even attempt a clog. When he was in the midst of theclog, the attendants could suddenly lose control of the balloons, lettingthe clown go up to the top of the tent. He could then climb to earth headfirst by doing a hand-over-hand on a rope fastened to a peg in theground. Don't you think that would bring a laugh?"

  Gwen's brow was wrinkled in thought for a moment.

  "Yes, I think it would," she said suddenly. "I think it would be a berry!How'd you like to be the clown?"

  "I wasn't in aviation in the Army," smiled Johnny.

  "No, but really, would you?"

  "Why! Why! Yes, I might. It might be better than boxing the bear, andsince I've got to stick around, I might as well be a clown as anything."

  "Stick around?" she asked. "Why do you have to stick around?"

  For an instant the words were on the tip of Johnny's tongue which wouldhave told her the whole truth. But his lips would not frame the sentence.

  "Why, I--I," he stammered; "just my nature, I guess. Always did like thecircus."

  Johnny was not a great success as a boxer that morning. He was thinkingof the diamond ring, and wondering why he had not demanded the right tokeep it, once he had it in his grasp; wondering, too, how it happenedthat Millie had it one day, and Gwen another. "Queer mixup," was hismental comment.

  Late that night, after the show was over, when the lights were dim,Johnny wandered into the animal tent. He was just passing the cage of theblack leopard when a low hiss halted him. Then he felt a grip on his arm.It was Pant.

  "Sit down here in the dark, Johnny," he whispered. "I'll tell you thestory of that black beast. I can tell it better with his wicked red eyesburning holes at me through the dark, just as they did once before, andhim a free black cat!"

  Johnny started as he stared at the cage where, on a narrow wooden shelf,the leopard must be reposing. All he could see was a pair of red balls offire, and it seemed to him that in all his life he had never seenanything so full of hate as was the red gleam that seemed fairly to shootout from them.