“Are you a fire-eater?” slowly asked the man.

“No,” Joe told him.  “But I’m in the circus—­Sampson Brothers’.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard about it.  A partner of mine was with ’em for years.  Gascoyne was his name.”

“That was before my time,” said Joe.  “But how are you getting on?  Can we be of any help to you?  We professionals must help one another.”

“That’s right.  We get knocked often enough,” was the reply.  “Well, I’m doing as well as can be expected, the doctor says.  And I’m not really in need of anything.  The museum folks were pretty good to me.  Thank you, just the same.”

“How did it happen?” asked Helen.

“Oh, just my carelessness,” said the man.  “We get careless after playing with fire a bit.  I put too much alcohol on the tow, and there was a draft from an open door, some draperies caught, and it was all going before I knew it.  I tried to put it out—­that’s how I got burned.”

“Then you really didn’t eat fire?” asked Helen.

Joe and the man swathed in bandages looked at one another and a semblance of a wink passed between them.

“Nobody can eat fire, lady,” said the museum performer.  “It’s all a trick, same as some your husband does in the circus.”

Joe blushed almost as much as did Helen.

“We’re not married yet, but we’re going to be,” explained Joe, smiling.

“Lucky guy!” murmured the man.  “Well, as I was saying, it’s all a trick,” he went on.  “Strong alum solution in your mouth, just a dash of alcohol to make a blaze that flares up but goes out quickly if you smother it right.  You know the game,” and he looked at Joe.

“Well, not exactly,” was the reply.  “I’ve read something of it.  But, somehow, it never appealed to me.”

“Oh, it makes a good act, friend!” said the man earnestly.  “I’ve done a lot of museum and circus stunts, and this always goes big.  There’s no danger if you handle it right.  I’ll be more careful next time.”

“You don’t mean to say you’ll go back to it, do you?” asked Helen.

“Sure, lady!  I’ve got to earn my living!  And this is the best thing I know.  I’ll be out in a week.  I didn’t swallow any, thank goodness!  Oh, sure I’ll go at it again.”

Joe and Helen cheered the sufferer up as much as they could, and then departed.  Joe privately left a bill of substantial denomination with the superintendent to be used for anything extra the patient might need.

On the way back to the circus, where they were soon to give their evening performance, Joe was unusually quiet.

“What’s the matter?” asked Helen.  “Are you thinking of that accident on the trapeze?”

“No,” was the answer.  “It’s something different.  I’ve got to get up a new act for the show.  That trapeze act, even the way I had to do it this afternoon, isn’t sensational enough.  I’ve got to have something new, and I’ve about decided on it.”