The Sky Pilot's Great Chase; Or, Jack Ralston's Dead Stick Landing

“Heavily armed guards accompany the liquor trains to prevent hijackers from stealing the packs. Whisky and wines are being transported over the winding trails, and upon arrival at the liquor depot all goods smuggled over the border are loaded into automobiles for transportation into many cities throughout the Northwest.”

“Well, what do you think of that for a corking dodge?” asked Jack when he saw that his companion had gone through the entire clipping.

Perk shrugged his shoulders quaintly in a way that stood for a good many words, but he only said:

“Gosh amighty! but don’t it beat all how some men’ll go to such heaps o’ trouble jest to make a livin’, taking all sorts o’ chances to get plugged with hot lead or grabbed up and sent to the pen for a spell?”

“It’s the day for reckless engineering,” declared Jack soberly enough, “with a gold mine always just ahead of the risky scheme. I’ve heard of some queer games being tried out in connection with the smuggling racket but up to now never had a whisper of anything like the mule pack-train steer.”

“Huh! and do you reckon there’s any truth in what this paper says or did it jest boil up in the brain o’ one o’ them reporters, eh Jack ol’ hoss?”

“That’s what’s bothering Mr. Maxwell, it happens,” returned the other composedly. “You see, he’s responsible to Uncle Sam for keeping things in decent order up here in Oregon and Washington and if such rackets as this can be put through right under his nose, it’s bound to get him in bad with the Government. That accounts for him asking me to send him word if we chanced to learn anything worth while about these so-called mule pack-trains, since it would be of some assistance in helping him stamp out the trick.”

“Course then partner,” went on the eager Perk, “you told the gent we’d be on’y too glad to lend a helpin’ hand ’cause to be sure he a’ready knows we’re connected with the Secret Service an’ runnin’ in the same class as he does?”

“That’s about the gist of what I told him, Perk and that if the opportunity came our way we’d even go to a lot of trouble so as to help him out. To be sure there might be one chance in ten for us to pick up any worth-while clue but that’s dependent on little Lady Luck, as I’ve heard you say many a time when we were almost muzzled with uncertainty and looking for a lead.”

“I’m bound to say the further I get to figgerin’ ’bout this queer racket, Jack, the more I like it. Think o’ glimpsin’ a long string o’ mules up in them mountain passes, streamin’ along jest like a desert caravan across there in Africa. I’ve always wanted to lamp such a picture.”

Evidently Perk was all keyed up to do everything in his power to lend a helping hand to the Government representative in Spokane of whom Jack had said so many nice things.

He soon settled down after they had lost all trace of the city in the mining sector of the Northwest and proceeded first of all to carry out his accustomed duties with regard to the ship and then when he had time on his hands to begin using his glasses.

It was well worth the trivial effort it cost, that grand view of the mountainous section of country over which they were passing. Here and there Perk could spy little lakes of clear water nestling in secluded valleys or basins and from his elevated position as observer, looking very much like gems in a bold setting.

“Like as not,” Perk was telling himself as he looked longingly down on a particularly lovely little sheltered sheet of water, “no white man has ever yanked a gay old trout out o’ that lake up to this day! Gee whiz! what wouldn’t I give to be settled down alongside that ’ere pond a’flippin’ my gang o’ flies out over that water an’ playin’ a three-pound speckled beaut! But no sech luck I kinder guess – not this trip anyway.”

They were soon drawing closer to where Jack told him the International Boundary between the States and Canada lay. Of course they would not be apt to know just when they crossed over, since there would be nothing to mark the actual dividing line as happened in Europe where every country is so jealous of the others that each road is guarded, with passports having to be shown and stamped.

His interest grew with their further advance for he could not help remembering what Jack had said concerning those bold international smugglers who were supposed to be continually crossing over from the north with their mule packs laden heavily with the forbidden beverage that was in such great demand among certain circles of law-scoffers.

“Say, mebbe now,” Perk told himself at one time – for he had the bad habit of communing with himself on occasion and even seemed to take considerable pleasure in so doing – “I wouldn’t be tickled some if on’y I happened to glimpse one of them caravans pullin’ through a twistin’ mountain trail like I c’n see right down yonder this very minute! An’ wouldn’t it gimme a heap o’ pleasure to swoop down so’s to drop a few o’ them tear bombs like I did when we blew up the fightin’ rum-smugglers and the hijackers that meant to take away their cargo the time we were doin’ our huntin’ on the gulf coast o’ Florida!”[3 - See “Eagles of the Sky.”]

He laughed softly at the recollection of what must have been a pretty stirring piece of action, to judge from what Perk was saying. Then he applied himself with renewed energy to his task of watching that winding mountain trail that vanished again and again, only to bob up shortly afterwards.

“Hugh! somethin’ seems to tell me that ’ere must be a well traveled trail an’ leadin’ down from the north in the bargain,” Perk went on to remark as if deeply interested. “I cal’late one o’ them ’ere pack mule trains might bob up along that path, if thar’s any truth in the stories goin’ around and keepin’ Mister Robert Mills Maxwell awake nights. It’d be a shame if we missed connections when I know Jack’d give a heap jest to set eyes on the show. Too bad that we’ll be losin’ all our chances right soon when we strike off to the west. Can you tie it for keepin’ a poor feller’s nerves all on edge?”

A few minutes afterwards Perk might have been seen to suddenly become rigid, centering his attention on a certain point ahead as though something had caught his strained vision that kept his eyes glued fast.

Jack, intent on his own thoughts and watching his dials with the fidelity of an air pilot who believed in the slogan of safety first, had not become aware of Perk’s preoccupied condition so that it gave him something of a little thrill when he felt the other nudge him in the ribs and remark with his peculiar drawl:

“Hot ziggetty dog, partner! Did I hear you say mules?”

XIV

THE BOOTLEG PACK-MULE TRAIN

“What’s up?” demanded Jack as if he could surmise from his companion’s peculiar question that Perk had made a pleasing discovery of some kind.

“Lady Luck’s gone an’ picked us out again to play us for favorites, ol’ hoss,” Perk told him, at the same time half rising in his eagerness to point out something far ahead.

Jack possessed very good eyesight and as the sun chanced to favor him just then he could manage to make out a snake-like line of small objects that appeared to be moving slowly along in zigzag fashion, evidently following a crooked mountain trail that wound upwards toward the peak of the divide.

“So, that’s one of them, is it?” Jack burst out, himself a bit thrilled by the spectacle after having heard so much concerning the pack-mule trains said to have been adopted by the venturesome souls engaged in smuggling operations across the Canadian border.

“With the glass here, Jack, I c’n make ’em out all to the good,” declared the excited Perk – “a fairly big caravan in the bargain, the mules loaded for keeps an’ toilin’ along jest like they do down in Mexico whar motor cars ain’t so plentiful or cheap. Whee! what a sight for sore eyes that is, buddy! Seems like you’ll have somethin’ to wire Mister Maxwell after all. Nothin’ o’ a newspaper yarn ’bout that bunch, let me tell the world. Must be all o’ twenty animals in that string with several boobs mounted on hosses an’ armed in the bargain, ’cause I c’n see the sun glintin’ from guns they’re holdin’ as they ride ahead o’ the line an’ in the rear to boot.”

“That goes with the rest of the story, Perk,” said Jack as he started toward a lower altitude as though wishing to secure a better view of the moving cavalcade in order to make assurance doubly certain. “You remember we read in that clipping how they carried an armed guard along to defend the caravan in case it was held up by a bunch of hijackers. Queer how these law-breakers make war on each other in cities, the wilderness, and even along the salt water coasts.”

“Huh! got to be a part o’ the game these days,” grunted wise Perk, “jest like the fish-hawk drops down with a rush, grabs up a fat fish from the lake or lagoon and in turn is robbed by the lordly eagle. I kinder guess now that’s about where they got the idea o’ hijackin’ – snatched a leaf from Nature in fact. But say, what are we goin’ to do ’bout this thing – why do you strike down closer, I want to know, Jack?”

“We ought to get a better look in, for one thing,” he was informed, “and if you could only work that little camera of mine once or twice so as pick up to a telltale picture of the caravan, it would be the finest evidence we could send by mail to Mr. Maxwell!”

“Glory! that’s a great scheme, boy – watch my smoke! I’m some photographer when it comes right down to brass tacks an’ I’ll prove it by gettin’ you the smartest pictur goin’ an’ that’s no lie either.”

Perk seemed to know just where everything aboard the big ship could be laid hold of in what he would call jig-time for almost as he spoke he was clutching the small but excellent camera that Jack owned, he being something of a crank along that particular line.

“I’m meaning to swing around once or twice while lowering the ship,” he explained to his companion so that Perk might not waste a single cartridge of film in taking a snapshot prematurely, with distance as a handicap.

“Go to it, partner,” sang out his mate quite merrily, “I’ll do my little bit when you gimme the word. Got her all fixed up for distance an’ the sun happens to be jest right – say, ain’t that a sweet sight, though with them mules cavortin’ like they might be scared by such a monster bird sailin’ over their stupid ol’ heads? An’ see the guards swingin’ around, shakin’ them guns at us like they meant to shoo us off by lookin’ fe-rocious! Zowie! but this is a heap int’restin’ I’m sayin’, eh Jack?”

“I bet you!” came the short answer, Jack being so taken up with staring at the greatly disturbed pack-train under the swinging airship that he could not find time for further words just then.

Not so loquacious Perk who never knew when to hold his breath since he was peculiarly gifted along that line and could work as well as gabble at the same time.

“Seems like they jest don’t know what to think ’bout seein’ an airship sailin’ over their heads,” he went on to say aloud, “an’ I kinder guess now some o’ them begin to smell a mouse. Think things ain’t goin’ to run so slick and greased as they’ve been doin’ right along. Another dip like that, buddy, ought to fetch me close enough to get the snap on the bloomin’ bunch.”

There he held up – for a brief interval. The fact was Perk had not run out of breath but was only so intensely occupied with trying to fix his little camera so that the lens would take in the whole of the lagging mule-pack train that he forgot to keep on speaking.

Really it did seem as though some kindly fortune had conspired to afford all possible assistance in order to successfully carry out this little racket on the part of Perk. Just as his waiting finger pressed the button the entire cavalcade came to a sudden stop. Indeed, if the actors, both two-legged and four-hoofed had intended to make a grand-stand play to the galleries they could hardly have bettered the conditions.

Perk did not stop at his first exposure but with a commendable rapidity turned on another portion of the reel and once again pressed the button, after which he burst into a roar of ecstatic delight.

“Got it that time boys, sure thing an’ I bet you all looked pretty for the set-up. Hoopla! Jack, that was a great snap you gave me an’ chances are, Mister – er, hey, what’s this mean?”

He bellowed the last few words and with a very good reason for something had come to pass that Perk had not reckoned on as part of the program. There was the sudden rattle of firearms from below and – the motor having ceased functioning while Jack continued his smooth dive – all around them could be heard a strange hurtling, hissing sound which an old experienced war veteran like Perk instantly knew must be made by savagely menacing bullets passing in close juxtaposition to their ship.

Then Jack had the situation in hand again as he pulled the stick back against his chest and with a shrill rat-tat-tat they were once more shooting at an upward slant through space, Jack putting his craft through all sorts of angles in hopes of further causing the sharpshooters to miss connection.

Perk had instantly dropped the camera, though luckily it did not go over the side as might have happened. Jack knew his mate was making a swift sweep with his hand and could give a fairly shrewd guess what his object might be, knowing Perk’s combative disposition as well as he did.

The worst of the danger was really past, since they had made such a speedy getaway after that first lunge. Anxious to hold the impulsive one in check, since nothing was to be gained from further aggravating the rum-runners, he continued to keep up that eccentric motion until they had climbed sufficiently to prevent Perk from starting hostilities on their side.

“Swing around and let’s go down once more partner,” implored Perk, keenly disappointed because his golden opportunity had given him the slip.

“Oh! I reckon it isn’t worth while,” replied Jack evenly as though not nearly so stirred up as his chum seemed to be and as he thus spoke kept on going, with the ship headed due northwest by north.

“But – see here Jack, you don’t mean to let ’em have the merry ha ha on us, I sure hope? Why, it’s got my blood het up to nigh the boilin’ point right now. On’y a little slip so I c’n reach the blamed bunch with my machine-gun. For ol’ times’ sake I’d like to pepper that crowd good an hard! The nerve o’ ’em, dustin’ us with that shower o’ lead! Might have bust our biler an’ then where’d we been, tell me? Jest one swoop an’ I’ll be satisfied. I could get in a dozen shots before they’d have time to crawl under their’ mules.”