CHAPTER XI
SAWDUST AND SPANGLES
Andy stared down at a sea of faces. They seemed far away. The circusmanager had stepped briskly out into the ring.
In great wonderment he stood gazing aloft. The audience swayed, and ageneral murmur filled the air. Many pointed upwards. Some arose fromtheir seats, craning their necks in excitement.
The orchestra dropped the music to low, undecided notes. Puzzledspectators wondered if the strange appearance above was part of some newnovelty change in the programme.
Andy clung to the dangling strip of canvas for dear life. The trapezist,Thacher, stared at him in profound astonishment. He was about to speak,to demand an explanation, when there was a second ripping sound.
"Look out!" cried Thacher sharply.
Andy saw what was happening. The canvas strip that had torn freelengthwise was now splitting its breadth.
In another moment a mere filament of cloth would hold Andy suspended. Hemust act, and act quickly, or take a plunge sixty feet down.
Andy did not lose his presence of mind. Just the same as if he was onthe rafters of the old barn at home, or practicing on a rope strung fromtwo high tree tops, as had been many a time the case, he calculated hischances and set his skill at work.
He ventured a brief swing on the frail strip of canvas. As it finallytore free in his hand, Andy dropped it. He had got his momentum,however. It was to swing sideways and down. The next instant Andy was atthe side of Thacher. One hand caught and held to a rope of the trapeze.There Andy anchored, resting one knee on the edge of the performing bar.
"You're a good one!" muttered the trapezist in wonder. "Don't getrattled, now."
"Not while I've got my grip. Say," projected Andy, "I'm sorry tointerrupt the performance, but it's a matter of life or death."
"Eh?" uttered Thacher in a puzzled way. "What's up?"
"Do you know a man named Murdock?"
"Ring man, fired last week. Yes. What of it?"
"Do you know a man named Daley?"
"Fired, too--for drinking. I took his place on this team."
"They hate you. They have plotted to disable you. The trapezeyonder--Murdock has cut the ropes, secured the bar with thread, and theslightest touch will send a performer to the ring with broken limbs."
"What! Are you crazy or fooling? Doped the rigging? Why, that's murder,kid!"
"They have done it just the same. Listen."
Faster than he had ever talked before Andy told of the conversation hehad overheard in the old hay barn. He hurriedly recited his failure inreaching the manager. He told of his rapid ascent of the top canvas. Thepresent denouement had resulted.
Under his face rouge Thacher showed the shock of vivid emotions. Themurmur below was increasing. The manager was looking up impatiently.
Old Benares, across on his trapeze, regarded his partner inbewilderment.
Suddenly Thacher shot out some words towards him. It was a kind ofcircus gibberish, mixed with enough straight English to enlighten Andythat his story was being imparted to Old Benares.
"You must get me out of this," said Andy. "The audience is becomingrestive."
Thacher extended his hand, the back showing, in the direction of theorchestra. The band, at this signal, struck up a quick, lively tune.
"Get clear on the bar," directed Thacher rapidly, giving Andy more room."Say," he added, in some surprise at Andy's cleverness, "you seem athome all right. Performer?"
"Oh, no--only a little amateur practice."
"It's given you the right nerve. Now then, you can't get up again,you've got to go down. Want to do it gracefully?"
"Sure," smiled Andy, perfectly calm and collected.
The situation rather delighted him than otherwise. He had supremeconfidence in his companion, and felt that he was in safe hands.
"Are you grit for a swing?" pursued Thacher.
"Try me," said Andy.
Thacher called over some further words to old Benares. The latter atonce swung down from his trapeze, holding on by his knees, both handsextended towards his partner.
"Do just as I say," directed Thacher to Andy. "Let me get you under thearms. Double your knees up to your chin. Can you hold yourselfthat way?"
"Yes," assented Andy.
"Now!" spoke Thacher sharply.
The next instant the performer had dropped Andy in his clasp. He hadslipped an ankle halter to one of his own limbs.
This alone held him. Head downward, he lightly swung Andy to and fro.Andy rolled up like a ball ready for the next move.
All this had consumed less than two minutes. Now the audience believedAndy's sensational appearance a regularly arranged feature of theperformance.
The oddity of a boy in ordinary dress coming into the act, as Andy haddone, excited the profoundest interest and attention.
The manager in the ring below stood like one petrified, puzzled beyondall comprehension.
The orchestra checked its music. An intense strain pervaded. Theaudience swayed, but that only. There was a profound silence.
"One, two, three," said Thacher, at intervals.
"Come," answered old Benares.
At the end of a long, swift swing of his body, Thacher let go of Andy,who spun across a ten feet space that looked twenty to the audiencebelow. Andy felt a light contact, old Benares' double grip caughtunder his arms.
The act was the merest novice trick analyzed by an expert, but it setthe audience wild.
A prodigious cheer arose, clapping of hands, juvenile yells ofadmiration. The band came in with a ringing march. Old Benares rightedhimself, Andy with him.
"Su-paarb!" he said. "Can you hold on alone--one little minute?"
"Sure," said Andy.
The trapezist reached up and untied the descending rope, secured it tothe bar, and shouted to those standing below.
Two ring hands ran out into the sawdust, caught the other end, and heldit perfectly taut.
"Can you slide down it?" asked Benares.
Andy's eyes sparkled.
"Say, Mr. Benares," he replied, "if I wasn't rattled by all that crowd,I could do it head first. I've done the regular, one leg drop,fifty times."
"You are admirable--an ex-paart!" declaimed old Benares. "Who are you,anyway?"
"Only Andy Wildwood. Do you think I could ever do a real circus act?"
"Do I think--hear them yell! You have made a hit. Good boy. Be careful.Go."
Andy essayed an old rope performance he had seen done once, and had manytimes practiced.
This was to secure one leg around the rope, throw himself outwards, foldhis arms, and wind round and round the rope, slowly descending.
The orchestra caught the cue, and kept time with appropriate music. Asecond hush held the audience. Without a break, Andy descended the fortyodd feet of cable.
Nearing its end, he caught at the rope to steady himself. Then hegracefully leaped free of it to the sawdust, and made a profound bow tothe audience amid wild thunders of applause.