"Poor fellow," murmured Helen. "Do you think we could go to see him, and
do something for him, Joe?" she asked solicitously. "He's in almost the
same line of business as ourselves."

"Well, I don't know," was the slow answer.

"I can fix it up if you want to see him--that is, if the doctors and
nurses will let you," said the policeman. "I know the hospital
superintendent. You just tell him that Casey sent you and it will be all
right."

"Thanks; perhaps we will," said Joe.

There was a little time after supper before the performers had to go on
with their acts, and Helen prevailed on Joe to take her to the hospital
whither the injured fire-eater had been removed. They found him swathed
in bandages, no objection being made to their seeing him after the magic
name of "Casey" had been mentioned to the superintendent.

"We came in to see if you needed any help," said Joe to the pathetic
figure in the bed. "We're in the same line of business, in a way."

"Are you a fire-eater?" slowly asked the man.

"No," Joe told him. "But I'm in the circus--Sampson Brothers'."

"Oh, yes, I've heard about it. A partner of mine was with 'em for years.
Gascoyne was his name."

"That was before my time," said Joe. "But how are you getting on? Can we