“But how did you do it?” asked some one, who came up to join the wondering throng after Joe’s feat had been performed.  “I’ve seen you stand on your head before, but to slide down a wire—­say, what sort of scalp have you, anyhow?”

Joe laughed and held out a close-fitting skull-cap of leather.  Fastened to the leather was a small steel framework, and in this frame were two small grooved wheels, like the wheels of a trolley by means of which street cars receive the electric current from the wire.  Joe put the cap on his head to show how it enabled him to do the trick.  The big races were on now, as the close of the performance was close at hand, and the crowd was paying attention to the contests and not to the group of performers surrounding the young magician.

Once they had seen the cap with the grooved wheels on top placed on Joe’s head, his friends understood how the trick was done.  He had simply to balance himself on his head on the wire, a feat he had often performed before.  The natural attraction of gravitation did the rest.  He simply slid down on the wheels, his extended arms and legs steadying him.

“It’s just as if you had a roller skate on your head,” said Senorita Tanlozo, the snake charmer, who had strolled into the main tent after her act in the side show was over.

“Exactly,” said Joe, with a smile.  “Would you like to try it?”

“Not while my snakes are alive!” she assured him.

“Well, it’s another drawing card for the Sampson Brothers’ Show,” said Jim Tracy that night when the receipts were being counted and preparations being made for moving on to the next city.  “How long are you going to keep it up, Joe?”

“As to that, I can’t say,” was the answer.  “But I like the game, and I want to see the circus a success.”

“It’s a big one now, thanks in a large part to you,” observed the ringmaster.  “But you’d better take a rest now, Joe, my boy.  Don’t try to pull off any more spectacular stunts.”

“Oh, I haven’t pulled off my big one yet,” replied the young magician.  “I mean the one with the fire.  I’m working on that.  If it comes out the way I think it will we’ll have to give three performances a day instead of two.”

“Oh, we can’t do that!” protested Mr. Moyne, the treasurer.  “It’s hard enough keeping account of the money and tickets now, with two shows a day.  If we have three—­”

He paused, for it was very evident Joe was only joking, and there were smiles on the faces of the other circus folk.

“Don’t worry!” said Joe to the treasurer.  “I don’t want to act three times a day any more than you want to count the tickets and cash.  And, I suppose, if we could, by some means, give three performances, it would only give our swindling ticket friends more chance to work their scheme.  By the way, there are no further signs of their putting bogus tickets on sale, are there?”

“Not since we started the detectives at work,” the treasurer answered.  “But I’m always on the watch, and so are the men at the entrances.”