The Sky Detectives; Or, How Jack Ralston Got His Man

“I’m going to shut down on the engine, and take a little glide, so we can pick up anything like a yell,” announced the pilot a minute later.

“Go to it – duck then, boy!” snapped Perk, as he temporarily relieved himself of his ear-phones in order to catch anything bordering on a shout from the ground below.

The simple expedient was carried out successfully, and when once again they leveled out, to continue circling, Jack asked eagerly:

“Get anything, Perk?”

“Not a bleat, partner,” replied the other, who had hurriedly held his earphones in position so as to cover the emergency.

“Sorry for that, but we’ll try a couple more times before calling it all off,” suggested Jack, who could be more or less persistent when the occasion arose for such action, though never carrying it so far as to be reckless.

So a dozen seconds or so afterwards he again gave warning that it was time for another drop of a few hundred feet – not that they meant to take any chances by getting too close to the unknown terrain lying in the pitch blackness under the flying ship; but simply to be able to listen with the horrid clamor of the bustling engine momentarily stilled.

No better success followed this second maneuvre – all was deathly silent around, above, below, as though never a solitary living human being existed within miles of the spot where the destruction of the Ryan monoplane had taken place.

“We’ll give a third and last try,” was Jack’s announced decision, to which Perk added:

“Three times, and batter’s out – by then I rather guess we’ll be down close enough to the solid ground to make another drop dangerous. Either way I’m satisfied we’ve done the right thing, old hoss. Suit yourself when you see fit to coast,” whereupon he once more denuded his ears of the exceedingly useful and really indispensable phone harness, to await the occasion of the last try in the line of an aviator’s duty.

“How about it, Perk? – get a whisper?”

They had completed the glide, and were once more on a level course, with Jack even turning the nose of the ship a bit heavenward; since neither of them knew what the nature of the ground below must be – whether some hill lay directly ahead, against which they might smash for a complete wipeout.

“Huh! a heap more’n that, partner!” came the triumphant reply. “Heard a shout, an’ then another some distance off – struck me both jumpers had lit okay, and were tryin’ to communicate, so’s to get together again. Guess things ain’t so bad after all with them guys, an’ we c’n be movin’ on our way without botherin’ any more ’bout their safety. Some two-legged varmints seem to be watched over by Old Satan hisself, they bein’ that venomous, and evil-minded.”

Jack made no rejoinder to this remark, tinged with bitterness as it was, only pointed the nose of his craft upward, and started to spiral for altitude. Undoubtedly he was feeling greatly relieved because of their having escaped so miraculously from the hovering peril; and best of all managed to turn the tables on those who would have encompassed their destruction just in order to defend the lawless game in which they were engaged in connection with Slippery Slim.

Perk must have been doing a little hard thinking as the time passed and they raced on their way, for later on he started to speak; and as usual his line of chatter told that he was seeking information, trying to find a solution of certain exasperating puzzles that were “twisting his intellects,” as he himself described matters.

“Things kind o’ got me goofy, partner, an’ I’d like you to raise the curtain some, if so be you feel so bent. First place I guess it goes without questionin’ that these huskies must be in cohunks with that there big gun, Slippery Slim Garrabrant?”

“Oh! that’s a dead certainty – who else would have any reason for waylaying us in Atlanta, and setting up this trap for us to fall into?”

“Shucks! then it stands to reason, boss, he’s got means for findin’ out what the Secret Service aims to do; an’ so has been able to play the boys for suckers every time they set out to lay him by the heels, eh, Jack, old hoss?”

“That’s past history, Perk; even the Big Boss got wise to it, and tried everything possible to learn where the great leak happened; but our experience proves they haven’t discovered it so far. I’m making up my mind that the closer we draw to the headquarters of this rotten clique of crime, where they make the bogus long-green that’s been flooding the whole West for a year and more, why, the harder our job is bound to be.”

“Which tickles me a heap, boy – I’m just yearnin’ for comin’ to grips with that gazaboo o’ a Slim; and now we’re on to the job I’ll never be happy ’till he’s on his way to that big Government pen we glimpsed in Atlanta, where some other lads we helped to pinch are doin’ time.”

“Well, if you keep on as you’ve started, Perk, we’ll flatten the whole gang like pancakes – they’ve stacked up against a new sort of revenue dog when they started a shooter of your calibre on the trail. First you smashed their searchlight, and then sent a chuck of lead into the gas tank that broke up the game. That’s the kind of a pinch hitter you are, partner; and right now I want to congratulate you on such dandy marksmanship.”

“Lay off that stuff, Jack – nothin’ but great luck fetched the bacon home for this lad. But me, I’m shakin’ hands with myself ’cause I had that hunch a bear gun mightn’t be such a bad thing to tote along on a trip that’s goin’ to carry us across the border, an’ into Old Mex, like as not; where the greasers are sometimes tough nuts an’ hard to handle they tell me. ’Spose we’ll run across them two hill billies again, partner?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if we did,” replied the pilot, leveling off at a three thousand foot ceiling, and still heading due southwest. “Like as not they’ve got plenty of ready cash along; and after having been so cleverly upset in their calculations, due to your beating them silly with a barrage of hot lead, they’ll be hot to wipe out their disgrace. Oh! yes, we’re going to run up against that foxey pair again before the book is closed for keeps.”

CHAPTER VII

STRIKING THE FOG BELT

With the stars shining brightly above them, and a moon just past its full climbing the eastern heavens, having dissipated the darkness of the earlier part of the night, Jack and his fellow voyager continued plunging along in a very satisfactory fashion, having no reason for feeling further concern regarding the peril to which they had been so lately subjected.

But things were not destined to continue so comfortably for the two adventurers, it seemed. Perk was just congratulating himself for about the fourth time at having such a comfortable flight, when he sat up and took notice of the fact that those heavenly bodies were beginning to look exceedingly hazy.

“Danged shame, that’s what, to spoil such a dandy night!” he muttered.

“What ails you now?” demanded Jack, on hearing the other make this little remark that bespoke exasperation at least; “another boat on our tail?”

“Well, I guess not just now,” replied Perk, scoffingly; “one was more’n enough for a single jump. But we’re agoin’ to run into a pesky fog belt, sure as you’re born, old hoss!”

“That all?” laughed the other, who apparently saw nothing of particular consequence about such a common happening; “it may perhaps manage to slow us down more or less; but what does that matter, when we’ve got time to burn. The Big Boss told us, remember, not to hurry things at all – plenty of time, oodles of money, and any backing we chose to call for in the way of a new boat, or more helpers. We should worry, old scout!”

“’Tain’t that in peticular Jack,” complained the other; “but of all things a sky detective’s got to run smack up against, fog’s the one I despise most. It’s got me in bad more’n a few times, so I’ve grown to look on the peasoup stuff like it was my – er, what-dye-call it – Nebraska, no, I mean Nemesis.”

“Yes, now you mention it, Perk, I remember you telling me something about that strange feeling you have creep over you. No need for you to apologize – in my knocking around among airmen I’ve found that often even the most daring and reckless in the bunch had some kind of a weakness, if only you looked far enough under the surface; just as sometimes you’ll find a boasting bully actually afraid of his little wife at home, who’s smacked him with her handy rolling pin many a time.”

“Huh! wasn’t I a canvas man ’long with a travelin’ circus a wheen o’ years ago, an’ didn’t I see the biggest elephant in captivity rear up on his hind legs, lift his trunk sky-high in the air, an’ squeal like fun just when a little half grown mouse happened to run along near his alley. Well, I’m the tusker, an’ fog is the mouse, as you might say – we never do get on well as a combine. Hope it hugs the ground, an’ leaves us a clear track up among the clouds I c’n see creepin’ up ahead yonder.”

“Doesn’t bother me a whit, partner; don’t forget we’ve got that new radio beacon aboard to try out; and if it’s as clever as I’ve heard tell it’ll carry us along our route to Orleans through the thickest nest of fog anybody ever stacked up against. Naturally we can’t expect to get the full benefit of its capacity to hold a speeding plane on its true course; because the invention’s hardly more than half baked up to now; but I set it according to directions, and if at any time we begin to slide off our course the light that springs up is bound to give warning.”

“A bully good layout I’d say, if it c’n do what they claim,” ventured Perk, who undoubtedly had read certain things concerning the new invention, and was eager to learn just how it would pan out. “You showed a level head, partner, when you decided to take the offer o’ that gent in Atlanta, and try the thing out. Guess, then, I needn’t bother my head ’bout gettin’ astray; if things keep bein’ invented it ain’t goin’ to be very long till a pilot’ll get slapped good an’ hard if he misses runnin’ on a straight line, or even veers from his proper course in a great big blow.”

“We’re living in a machine age, Perk, and every day things are heading that way on the run – electric helps in kitchen, factory, and even aboard our air cruisers. While the brainwork and strain grow harder the actual manual labor is lessened all the time. But as you say it’s getting a bit hazy, and chances are we’re in for a spell of blue fog.”

Ten minutes afterwards there could not be the least doubt concerning that fact, for by degrees even the stars vanished from view, ditto the gorgeous round moon. Still, since the sky remained brighter in the east, it was not at all difficult to tell where the fair mistress of the Southern night had hidden her face behind the opaque veil.

Jack was now flying by instruments alone, since never a thing could be seen by the keenest eye above, below – they seemed to be hung in unlimited space; but pushing along with considerable speed just the same, bound for the distant city on the vast Mississippi, situated not so very far from its delta.

Thus passed a full hour.

Suddenly Perk saw a small light spring into view on one side of the plane, and it certainly electrified him considerably.

“Hi! there, partner, we’re off our track – shifted to the east, seems like, unless I’m away wrong in sizin’ things up ’cordin’ to Hoyle. Got to swing her to the larboard-watch side, I kinder guess – how ’bout that, boss?”

“You hit it that time, Perk, and here she goes to climb back to our true course. Worked just as we figured it would, and put us wise to a fact we’d hardly have picked up in any other way. I reckon now this same radio beacon’s bound to turn out a great help to the poor badgered air pilot, flying blind when fog hides the ground beacons, and he gets no aid from the heavens above.”

“I’ll say it’s the best thing I’ve struck for a long time,” affirmed the delighted Perk. “There she goes – the glim I mean – closed shop, havin’ ’complished the business set for her; showing we must have struck our real course again.”

“Easy money,” laughed Jack, just as well satisfied. “Makes a fellow sit up and try to guess what the next big idea connected with aviation will prove to be; doesn’t seem to be any limit to the dazzling discoveries these scientific chaps’ll turn out.”

“Just so, partner – like that big chute they’re trying out, which they claim will keep any plane from crashing – if the engine goes dead all you got to do is to press a little button, and when the drop comes open goes the monster umbrella, able to hold you and the crate suspended in the air, to gradually fall to the earth like the colored balls from a bursted skyrocket. Great stunt that, an’ I’m livin’ in hopes it’ll be my luck to some day find myself aboard a ship that’s equipped with such a giant chute, an’ have the glorious experience of seeing the thing work.”

Jack seemed to consider it the part of wisdom to pull up more or less, as they were in no hurry, and could drop down on the aviation field at New Orleans by dawn, even though they concluded to just “loaf along.” Disliking anything pertaining to fog Perk naturally said nothing to hint at a desire for further speed; besides his own good sense told him that what his mate had just said with regard to no necessity existing for haste, was sound logic, and a due regard for “safety first.”

So the time slipped away, with midnight finding them past the meridian of their projected flight. Perk had long since subsided and seemed content to sit there in the double cockpit, letting his thoughts roam back to the exciting developments of the earlier night.

Years had elapsed since last he watched a doomed plane writhing and twisting in its death agonies, with the flames wrapping it in an envelope – a blazing coffin speeding headlong to a final crash; and here, strange to say, after all that time intervening he had again passed through a similar experience. Now that he had an opportunity to calmly review the happening, Perk admitted he was pleased to know the two occupants of the Ryan cockpit had apparently escaped a miserable fate that must have been laid at his door.

Two A. M. and all’s well!