picture of physical young manhood. The band was blaring out the latest
Jazz melody.

Suddenly, from his perch, the young acrobat gave a cry, and Jim Tracy,
on the ground below, hearing it, held up his white-gloved hand as a
signal for the music to cease.

Then Joe leaped. Full and fair he leaped out toward the swinging bar of
the big trapeze, the snare drum throbbing out as he jumped. He was dimly
conscious of thousands of eyes watching him--eyes that looked curiously
and apprehensively up. And he realized that Helen was also watching him.

As true as a die, Joe's hands caught and gripped the bar of the swinging
trapeze. So far he was safe. The momentum of his jump carried him in a
long swing, and he at once began to undulate himself to increase his
swing. He must do this in order to get to the second platform.

As the young performer began to do this, he looked up at the wire ropes
of his trapeze.

It was a look given instinctively and for no particular purpose, as
Joe's eyes must rest, most of all, on the second platform where he
needed to land, to save himself from a bad fall.

As his eyes glanced along the steel cables on which his life depended,
he saw, to his horror, a spot of rust on one. And at the spot of rust
several of the thin strands of twisted wire were loose and frayed.

The cable seemed about to give way!