g and loud as Joe
made his final bow.

He left the theatrical people and his helpers to pack up, ready for the
trip to the next town, and hastened to the hotel. There he found
Professor Rosello much better, though still suffering somewhat.

"Do you think you will be able to go on to-morrow night?" asked Joe.

"I don't know," was the answer. "I can tell better to-morrow."

But when the next day came, after a night journey that was painful for
Mr. Crabb, he found that he could not give his portion of the
performance.

And as Joe alone was not quite qualified to give a whole evening's
entertainment it was decided to cancel the engagement. It was not an
important one, though several good "dates" awaited them in other towns
on the route.

"I think I need a rest, Joe," the professor said "My nerves are more
shattered than I thought by that electrical accident. I need a good
rest to straighten them out. I think we'll not give any performances
for at least a month--that is I sha'n't."

Joe looked a little disappointed on hearing this. His living depended
on working for the professor.

"I say I'll not give any more performances right away, Joe," went on
the professor, "but there's no reason why you shouldn't. I have been
watching you of late, and I think you are very well qualified to go on
with the show alone. You could get a helper, of course. But you can
do most of my tricks, as well as your own. What do you say? I'll make
you a liberal offer as regards money. You can consider the show yours
while I'm taking a rest. Would you like it?"

"I think----" began Joe, when there came a knock on the door of their
hotel room.

"Telegram for Joe Strong!" called the voice of the bellboy.

CHAPTER IV

A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

Professor Rosello and Joe Strong looked at each other. It was not
unusual for the magician to receive telegrams in reference to his
professional engagements, but Joe up to now had never received one of
the lightning messages which, to the most of us, are unusual
occurrences.

"Are you sure it's for me?" Joe asked the boy, as he opened the door.

"It's got your name on it," was the answer. That seemed proof enough
for any one.

"Maybe it's from your folks--the deacon," suggested the professor.
"Something may have happened."

He really hoped there had not, but, in a way, he wanted to prepare Joe
for a possible shock.

"I wonder if it can have anything to do with the deacon's ro