he heard a voice outside calling.

“Johnny, Johnny Thompson!” It was Gwen.

He answered the call and, turning to his little host, said: “Guess I better go. Some work, I suppose. Great little house, you’ve got. Much obliged for letting me see it.”

He backed out of the door and hurried away to join Gwen, but even as he did so, he thought of the midget clown’s reference to a tall bank account, and of his house built inside a cage. What if this little fellow was a miser? What if his greed for gold had led him into counterfeiting? What if he were Black McCree? What safer place could be found for hiding a counterfeiter’s den than a house built inside a cage on wheels?

All these speculations were cut short by the appearance of the smiling face of his lady boxing partner, Gwen.

“It’s the clown stunt,” she exclaimed excitedly. “The big chief fell for it right away. He hurried a messenger off to Chicago for the balloons. They’re already here, and they’ve tried them out with a dummy and they worked beautifully. They want you to try it right away.”

“This dummy,” smiled Johnny, “he didn’t fall and break his neck, did he?”

“No, of course not, Silly!”

“Well, here’s hoping I don’t, but it’s a powerful long distance from the top of the center tent pole down to the sawdust.”

CHAPTER XV BURSTING BALLOONS

The big top had never been more crowded than it was the night of Johnny’s first performance as a clown. And never, in the memory of the oldest circus man, had there been a jollier throng. Never had there been an act more thoroughly appreciated than that of Gwen, the Queen, and Johnny, the fat clown.

Johnny had been dressed in inflated rubber clothing until he appeared as fat as a butcher. When, by the aid of the balloons, he rose to the tight wire, when he tripped lightly along it, and returned cakewalking, the spectators howled their approval. But when in apparent consternation, he lost his step and instead of plunging downward, leaped upward with the sudden lift of the balloons, they rose to their feet and roared their delight.

Silently, calmly, he rose toward the tent top. There was nothing calm about the feelings that surged in Johnny’s breast, however. He had never been in aviation, and never would be. Going up in the air made him 

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