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

They lost no time in reaching the field and as it was a pleasant day they found it an animated scene, with crates coming and going, visitors as well as those connected with the field in some capacity helping to make up a crowd with scores of spectators as a backing, rushing from one point to another.

This thing was such an old story for both flyers they paid little attention to the bustle that was going on but made straight for the hangar where their ship was quartered.

Jack had kept his word and a man could be seen standing or moving about near the squatty building. This was a guard in his employ, engaged by the day, for an indefinite time. It might be a week or a day, depending on the whim of the young and ardent sportsman, whom it was believed meant to hunt big game somewhere within five hundred miles of Salt Lake City.

“Listen Perk,” said Jack as they approached the hangar, “it might be just as well for neither of us to say a word about making a quick run of it until about to pull out when I’ll pay our man double wages. After what happened here last night anything might come along to upset our calculations.”

“I’m on Jack – seems like you never do know what’s what these days. Any more light on who did that dirty, sneaky job last night, eh what?”

“Nothing positive but I’m still of the opinion it must’ve been meant for us,” replied Jack. “Everything points that way for we happened to change our hangar with hardly anybody knowing about it. Then again I understood Mr. Gibbons dropped in along about nine and never a soul to meet him and his pilot save the customary field hands. But then there’s no use crying over spilled milk – what’s done can’t be changed and it serves to warn us never to trust to just mixing up our names. We’ve got to believe there are just as smart wideawake chaps up against us as we ever claim to be. That’ll be enough on the subject Perk, so let’s forget it.”

“Anyway, luck’s all in our favor, seems like,” was the consolation Perk offered himself, at the same time relapsing into silence.

As quietly as possible, just as if they meant to take an ordinary spin, they got their bus out of the hangar. Jack had paid the rental for it in advance, so there was nothing to worry them from that quarter, which was just as well for things somehow manage to fly around among the employees and pilots connected with a base port and the news would soon become common property that the young millionaire sportsman and his pilot were at last on their way to some chosen hunting ground in search of big game like moose, grizzly bears or possibly Rocky Mountain big-horn sheep.

As usual Jack gave the ship the once over, to make doubly certain nothing had been neglected. So far as he was able to tell it was in apple-pie condition and so well stocked that they could count on a two thousand mile flight unless baffled by storm or dense fog banks.

The guard was given double pay and told that his services would not be needed any further, since a sudden wire had changed their plans somewhat and they were pulling out for good. If he evinced any particular curiosity concerning the goal they had in view, never a word spoken by either of the flyers put him any the wiser. Not that Jack suspected he might be in touch with some mysterious but vindictive enemy, but just kept mum on general principles.

“All ready, partner!” sang out Perk in his usual happy fashion for it always pleased him beyond measure to be making a start on some new air voyage and from what Jack had told him, Spokane was going to be only a way station, with the vast unknown Northwest Territory beckoning them on to fresh activities and mayhap thrilling adventures to follow. No wonder the chap whose nerves were always set for action felt joyful when the moment came to pull the gun and swing off.

One last look around and aloft so as to stamp his approval on the conditions with which they were to be confronted, and Jack made the momentous start. The wonderful up-to-date amphibian began to move down the slight decline with constantly augmented speed until, having reached the desired maximum the pilot lifted his craft and away they soared.

Perk took a last backward look at the field that had become fairly familiar to them by this time. There was a grin upon his freckled face that told of the pleasure he felt at such an auspicious moment. A ship was just coming into port, settling down for the last glide – just as a duck might set its wings, and throw its webbed feet forward on nearing the surface of a lagoon on which it intended to alight.

Perk rather imagined it was a belated air-mail boat, delayed by some accident like a forced landing or unusual weather conditions. No matter, he waved a hand gaily in salute to the homecoming air-man and felt no ill humor because there was no return wave, since the one whose hand was at the stick must needs give his full attention to his work, or risk a crash.

So they departed from the friendly Salt Lake City airport, with a far distant goal in view.

IX

A BROKEN PADDLE

After attaining some thousands of feet altitude, Jack headed into the north-west-by-north, it being his intention for variety to follow the shore line of the water until near its extreme northerly tip. This was only done for a change and to please Perk, who had mentioned the fact that he would welcome such a brief run, being a bit tired of looking down on endless stretches of rough country, mountainous in most places and with a most monotonous panorama passing far below.

So after all it was accident rather than an expectancy of meeting up with any sort of adventure that brought about the rather odd happening falling to their lot that afternoon.

Perk having little to do just then that could not be deferred until later on, was amusing himself with the glasses, looking back toward the old Mormon city with its vast temple devoted to the service of the followers of Brigham Young and the many other interesting features which he and Jack had faithfully surveyed while they were killing time and awaiting orders.

When these sights began to grow dim in the distance, he swept the surface of the big sheet of salty water and noted far away toward the west the shoreline bounding it in that quarter.

The day that had begun with considerable warmth had also brought up clouds that had, Perk thought, a bit of menace in their dark depths. Perhaps after all they would be treated to a little thunder and lightning for a change but that did not give him any concern, since both he and Jack were used to meeting up with boisterous weather when in flight and knew all the practical wrinkles for avoiding discomfort under such conditions.

Through the glass he could easily make out the various towns and smaller places that were to be met with along the eastern shore of the winding lake. They interested him from time to time, especially since Jack for some reason of his own had seen fit to drop down until they were zooming along not more than two thousand feet above the lake itself.

“Some wind down there,” remarked Perk suddenly. “Startin’ to kick up the waves like it might mean business.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a fair-sized blow later on,” Jack told him as their ear-phones had been adjusted in order to permit an exchange of opinions and also allow them to work in common.

Perk shot a look skyward and noticed the clouds were actually growing blacker and more menacing. But that meant nothing in his care-free life. If the wind began to bother them it would be a simple thing to climb above the storm and keep merrily on their way, leaving the overcharged clouds to deluge the land beneath with their contents.

Perk was very still for some little time and seemed to be paying particular attention to something that had attracted his notice.

“I say, partner,” he suddenly said, and Jack could tell he was agitated for some reason or other.

“Yes, what is it, Perk?” demanded the pilot.

“I don’t just like the looks o’ it, that’s what!” exclaimed the other.

“Nothing more than a summer squall, with some fireworks thrown in for good measure, Perk. I’m surprised at you, old man.”

“You’re gettin’ me wrong, ol’ hoss,” burst out the other, “I ain’t referrin’ to the weather, which don’t disturb me a whiff – it’s that silly little canoe down yonder an’ sure as shootin’ it’s a gal in it wavin’ a white flag o’ some kind!”

“What’s that, boy?” cried Jack, startled somewhat by Perk’s last words.

“A punkin-seed boat, such as no sensible person’d use on such a big sheet o’ water as this here Salt Lake and she don’t seem to have any paddle at work either, that I c’n see – mebbe now it’s got broken an’ thar she is three miles out from shore with the wind blowin’ her further all the while!”

Jack had banked by this time and was commencing to circle preparatory to dropping down in a glide. Somehow what his mate had just said stirred his blood and without the first thought concerning their present errand he was listening to the call of humanity.

After all there was no need of undue haste while on this business of the Government. They had made the start, Perk’s impatient mood had been successfully muzzled, and if they found occasion for any reason to delay their progress while en route to their distant destination, it would be all right.

“How about it now?” he sang out a little later when they had reached a ceiling of less than a thousand feet.

“Jest like I was sayin’ partner,” replied Perk promptly.

“It’s a girl then?” asked the pilot.

“Sure is, an’ a slip o’ a youngster in the bargain, not over ten or twelve years old, I’d say on a guess. An’ let me tell you, Jack, she’s keepin’ up that wavin’ her flag like fun – guess now she’s skeered we’ll give her the go-by.”

“We’ve got to drop down on the lake then, that’s clear,” said Jack, just as though it was imperative to attempt the rescue of the youthful castaway, once her serious plight had come to their notice.

“Some rough sleddin’ for us, partner,” mentioned Perk to quickly add: “But shucks! what o’ that, with you holdin’ the stick. Our boat c’n stand the racket okay. On your way, partner!”

Jack was now able to see for himself without the aid of glasses. There could be no question as to Perk having struck the absolute truth when he declared it was a question of life and death for the frightened occupant of the dainty little canvas canoe that was bobbing up and down in the rising waves like a floating cork. Yes, he could even make out what looked like a broken spruce paddle lying in the bottom of the tiny craft as though it had played the paddler a treacherous trick just when she needed it the most and been cast aside as useless.

He dropped still lower, with a practiced eye keeping tabs of the wind and waves that were being kicked up. Then came the contact between the pontoons and the roughening surface of the lake – a considerable commotion followed, but the admirably built aluminum floats did their expected duty and in a brief space of time they were safely established on the heaving waters, not more than thirty feet away from the young and distressed mariner.

Again the rat-tat-tat of the engine was heard as Jack turned on full power, knowing he had a combination of wind and waves to beat. The spray flew quite briskly and Perk let out one of his joyous whoops as, amidst all this clamor, they continued to taxi in the direction of the bobbing punkin-seed as he had called the drifting canoe.

The young girl had ceased waving the white object which Jack strongly suspected might be a piece of her own clothing, torn off in desperation when she feared her lone chance of rescue might pass by, leaving her to a cruel fate. She was kneeling in the tossing boat, staring toward the approaching strange craft – an airship that could navigate the lake as though by magic, something she undoubtedly had never witnessed before, even though planes must be a familiar sight, seen far up in the heavens as they journeyed back and forth on their individual errands.

So they soon came alongside the helpless canoe and Jack was telling his pal just how it would be best to get the girl aboard. Her craft of course would have to be abandoned, since it was out of the question for them to taxi head-on over that water, growing constantly rougher as the wind rose higher with the shore something like three miles distant.

After all the safety of the girl was the main thing they must keep in view – a canoe only represented a small amount of money but a human life was priceless.

Perk made ready to assist the wretched skipper of the frail craft aboard, although it required considerable maneuvering on the part of the pilot to fetch the ship around so that the contact could be effected. At the proper moment Perk reached out his hand and once he clutched that of the girl he knew the rescue was as good as accomplished, for he would never let go.

In this queer fashion then was a third inmate of the ship’s cabin installed and the canoe allowed to drift away. The girl was too much agitated just then to bemoan the loss of her treacherous little shallop, for sinking down on her knees she burst into violent sobs the result of her late terror. But their main object had been attained and now to get out of this rough sea.