as Lizzie shot up out of the water to
breathe.

Joe did not know the length of time the sea-lion could stay under water
without breathing. Doubtless she could rival him, but she never did--at
least, in the glass tank. A minute seemed to be her limit of endurance,
though Joe had no means of making an accurate decision.

At any rate, the act was a big success, and Joe had to bow and bow
again to the applause as he came out after his endurance test. This
time he made it four minutes and eleven seconds, a gain of one, and he
ascribed his better lung power to motor-cycle riding in the open air.

"Good work! Good!" was Jim Tracy's compliment at the conclusion of the
performance.

"I'm glad to hear him say that," said the boy fish. "It will make it
easier to ask for more money, for that's what I'm going to do."

When the mail was distributed just before supper, there was a letter
for Joe.

"Hello! This is too bad!" Joe exclaimed as he read the note.

"What is it?" asked Helen.

"Bad news," Joe answered. "There isn't any hope for Benny after all!"

CHAPTER XIX

HELEN'S SOLUTION

Helen read the letter which Joe held out to her. It confirmed the news
the boy fish had given. The note was from the physician who had first
attended Benny in the circus tent, and stated that though originally it
was hoped an operation would prevent the youth from becoming
permanently deaf and dumb, such hope now had to be abandoned.

The physician went into the particulars of the case in writing to Joe,
who, it seemed, had left word that he wished to be informed as to
Benny's progress. It was his belief that the long continued practice of
Benny in staying under water had brought on a disease of the ears and
throat.

"I thought it would be comparatively easy to operate on him, or get
some surgeon better qualified than I to do it," wrote the hospital
doctor. "But, after a consultation, we have decided that it would be
dangerous, and so, as far as we can see, there is no hope for your
friend. He will not die--in fact, he is much stronger than he was--but
he will be unable to speak or hear. He will write you himself shortly,
he indicated to me. Just at present he is too down-hearted to do so."

"Poor fellow," murmured Helen, sympathetically, "I should think he
would be. Isn't it just perfectly terrible, Joe?"

"It certainly is hard luck!"

"Can't anything be done?"

"I don't see what," was the moody answer. "I was planning to