d at the same wages."

"Of course I'll take you back!" exclaimed the owner heartily. "And
glad to have you."

"Good! Come on, boys! Strike's broken!" cried Bantry.

So Joe and his fellow-artists did not have to turn to tent work that
night.

In looking over the advance booking list one day, Joe saw Bedford
marked down.

"Hello!" he cried. "I wonder if that's my town." It was, as he
learned by consulting the press agent.

"Are you glad?" asked Helen.

"Well, rather, I guess!" Joe said.

And one morning Joe awakened in his berth, and looked out to see the
familiar scenes of the town where he had lived so long.

"Bedford!" exclaimed Joe. "Well, I'm coming back in a very different
way from the one I left it," and he chuckled as he thought of the
"side-door Pullman," and the pursuing constables.

CHAPTER XVIII

HELEN'S MONEY

After breakfast Joe, who did not take part in the parade, set out to
see the sights of his "home town," or, rather, he hoped to meet some of
his former friends, for there were not many sights to see.

"The place hasn't changed much," Joe reflected as he passed along the
familiar streets. "It seems only like yesterday that I went away.
Well, Timothy Donnelly has painted his house at last, I see, and they
have a new front on the drug store. Otherwise things are about the
same. I wonder if I'd better go to call on the deacon. I guess I
will--I don't have any hard feelings toward him. Yes, I'll go to see
him and----"

Joe's thoughts were interrupted by a voice that exclaimed:

"Say! Look! There goes Joe Strong who used to live here!"

The young circus performer turned and saw Willie Norman, a small boy
who lived on the street where Joe formerly dwelt.

"Hello, Willie," called Joe in greeting.

"Hello," was the answer. "Say, is it true you're with the circus?
Harry Martin said you were."

"That's right--I am," Joe admitted. He had kept up a fitful
correspondence with Harry and some of the other chums, and in one of
his letters Joe had spoken of his change of work.

"In a circus!" exclaimed Willie admiringly. "Do they let you feed the
elephant?" he asked with awe.

"No, I haven't gotten quite that far," laughed Joe. "I'm only a
trapeze performer."

"Say, I'd like to see you act," Willie went on, "but I ain't got a
quarter."

"Here's a free ticket," Joe said, giving his little admirer one. In
anticipation of meeting some of his friends in Bedford that day