Flying the Coast Skyways. Jack Ralston's Swift Patrol

“I’d have introduced you, partner, only the conditions wouldn’t admit it.” Jack threw out as a bit of apology.

“But, say – what if that speed hound, Jimmy, happened to learn he was atalkin’ with yeou, wouldn’t your friend Doug be apt to give us away, withaout knowin’ the reasons why we wanted to keep shady right naow?”

Jack gave him the laugh.

“Not on your life, buddy,” he announced, without hesitation; “I managed to let Doug know what line I was in, and how just at present I’m a New York millionaire sportsman and aviator, Rodman Warrington by name, headed toward some shooting-grounds for a whack at big game. He’s a lad you could never catch asleep at the switch; and make up your mind our secret’s as safe with him as anything could be. Jimmy’d have all his trouble for his pains, if he ever tried to pump Doug Davis, who’s as keen as they make them in our line.”

“But, partner, didn’t he introduce yeou to another pilot – I reckon I seen him adoin’ that same, an’ heow yeou shook hands with the other guy.”

“Yes, but I’d already tipped Doug off, and he strung his friend with the story we’ve hatched up about our meaning to try the shooting in those wonderful canebrakes in Louisiana. And that’s all he’ll ever tell connected with my identity, till the cows come home, or water runs uphill.”

“An’ who did the other chap happen to be, if it’s a fair question, suh?” continued Perk, who, once he started on an investigating tour, never would let go until he had extracted every particle of information available.

“Sorry that I didn’t catch his name clearly; but Doug told me he was connected with the U. S. Air Reserve Corps operations functioning there at Candler Field,” Jack explained.

He certainly stirred up something when he said that.

“Well, well, what dye know ’baout that naow,” gushed Perk, apparently thrilled more or less by what he had just heard. “I’ve been gettin’ wind o’ that ere movement, and meanin’ to look it up whenever the chanct drifted along.”

“A most interesting subject, buddy, and one I’d think you’d want to look into, seeing you’re a veteran of flying in the Great War over in France, and could join without any trouble. From what Doug told me, and what I’ve read concerning the game, the organization is growing stronger every day – made up of men especially fitted to step in and man fighting planes, should any occasion arise, such as another foreign war. Right in the southeast district there are something over two-hundred-and-thirty pilot members, who could be mustered by Uncle Sam in an emergency, just twenty-two of whom belong in Atlanta, Doug told me.”