Eagles of the Sky: or, With Jack Ralston Along the Air Lanes

“Seems that way, partner,” grumbled the other quickly adding, “there goes the Lockheed-Vega spinnin’ out o’ the lagoon to the open lake so’s to get up enough speed for the take-off. Must be somethin’ mighty special to coax that pilot to risk bein’ seen in open daylight. So he used to fish in them passages ’tween the mangrove islands years ago, did he, Jack?”

“Sure did, and they told me his guide some years ago down there used to be a notorious smuggler and gulf-stream pirate, no other than Jim Alderman, right now in the jug over at Fort Lauderdale on the eastern shore and waiting to get a hempen collar for murdering three law officers in August two years back. Of course, he hadn’t started his real career of crime when he used to be a guide for Roosevelt, Zane Grey, the writer, and some other famous sportsmen.”

“Do tell,” murmured Perk, duly thrilled by what his pal was telling him concerning one of the most turbulent characters known along the Florida coasts since those days of old when buccaneers like Blackbeard, Gasparilla and others of their ilk roamed the subtropical waters and swarmed aboard such unfortunate Spanish galleons as chance threw their way.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jack went on to whisper, “if he goes under quite another name while over in this hideout and even manages to alter his looks more or less. He’s capable of playing many parts if he’s half as good an actor as I suspect. But we’ll be apt to know a heap more before a great while slips by.”

“There he goes, Jack, swingin’ off toward the east in the bargain, but then it’s just as easy for a flier to strike across the lower end o’ Florida, if the notion strikes him, day or night. Crates are gettin’ to be a common sight these days down here. I read they expected to have a full hundred at Miami this very winter, takin’ part in a big air derby that’s scheduled to be pulled off.”

They watched the other two men walk back and enter the coquina bungalow and a little later Jack was saying:

“Strikes me we’d better pull up stakes and clear out of this, Perk, don’t forget we’ve got to pass that rattlesnake cove on the way back, and for one, I’m not so keen about doing it in pitch darkness.”

“Don’t get me goofy, partner,” whimpered Perk with a shudder. “But hold on a bit–mebbe now somethin’s a’goin’ to strike up we’ll both be sorter glad to set eyes on–looky there, old hoss, what do you see?”

CHAPTER XXII

THE MAN OF MANY FACES

A man had come out of the odd-looking shack constructed from the coquina rock found in different parts of Florida, and formed by insects, science has decided. Neither Jack nor his companion had ever set eyes on him before, he was an entirely different personage from the short party and the longer-limbed man they had so lately been watching before the reckless pilot of the Lockheed-Vega plane departed toward the east.

This individual was also tall and was dressed in well-worn outing garments that gave him the appearance of a man of leisure taking a day off.

“Think that’s this here Kearns, partner?” whispered Perk, eagerly.

“Just who it must be, Perk,” came the cautious reply. “Be careful about making any sort of little move that might catch his attention, and keep your eyes fastened on him. Whatever under the sun is he doing, I wonder?”

“Looks to me he’s got some sorter bird there–I c’n see red feathers–yep, that’s what it is for a fact, Jack!”

“Working over a bird with red feathers,” said Jack, as if to himself, so low was his voice. “Now, that makes me remember something I was told only a short time back–something connected with that wonderful place he owns over on the East Coast–about birds too–stuffed birds, in fact!”

“Do you mean he’s got a collection there, Jack?” breathed the intently watching assistant in his companion’s ear.

“Just that,” came the ready reply, “a mighty fine collection too, from all accounts, of native Florida birds and filling a number of glass cases. We already know this party is a man of contradictory habits, being one thing among society people and just the opposite when he gets in a different atmosphere. Chances are he’s a pretty fine amateur taxidermist–those birds have all been secured by himself and mounted in the bargain–that when he drops out of sight around Miami it’s to come over here to do some hunting in the swamps and the Everglades, eager to run across some rare bird that he needs to make his collection complete.”

“Now wouldn’t that jar you?” he gasped, vastly astonished at hearing Jack air his conviction.

“I’m not much of an authority on rare birds,” Jack admitted softly as he continued to use his eyes to advantage, “but I’ve got a hunch that skin he’s handling right now might be a roseate spoonbill–I’m sure it isn’t a red ibis, for the bill seems different.”

“Whee! sounds queer to me, I must say Jack–such a man, such a man–to play so many different parts! Say, d’ye know I kinder guess he ain’t such a tough guy under all the varnish–must have a heap o’ human natur’ under it all to fall for such a decent game as taxidecentry or whatever you call this pluggin’ dead birds an’ makin’ ’em sit up on boughs like they might be all to the good!”

“Put it mostly on that war experience he went through, Perk–they say once a man was gassed pretty badly over there, he’d always prove to be a queer fish–changeable, nervous and apt to do all manner of strange things.”

“But see here, partner,” whispered Perk, uneasily, “that ain’t a’goin to make any perticular difference with our billet, is it–jest ’cause he’s got this funny streak runnin’ through his doin’s we don’t reckon to throw up our hands an’ call it all off, do we?”

Jack chuckled.

“Not any, buddy–we only know that Uncle Sam wants his activities cut short–it may be exciting sport for him to ferry Chinks across from Cuba or Honduras, land big cargoes of booze on our shores with his thumb to his nose insofar as the Government is concerned, and such capers as that, but it means heaps of trouble for the revenue boys as well as holding our laws up to contempt. He must be brought to book, and his game stopped without any more delay than is necessary, no matter how many other innocent recreations he’s engaged in.”

“Hot ziggetty! that gives me a warm feelin’ again, partner an’ I guess we’re the boys to knock the underpinnin’ loose so’s to make him drop with a splash.” Saying which, Perk relapsed into utter silence.

For some further time they stuck it out, watching every little movement of the remarkable character proceeding with his labor, not a hundred feet distant. Jack himself began to grow a bit nervous, for the sun was just hovering above the western horizon and twilight does not last any length of time in the South. If they delayed much longer it would mean a walk in the dark over that dangerous dimly marked trail.

They could have no further doubt concerning the nature of the work that was giving the suspected man so much genuine pleasure, he had held up the object of his labor several times so they could plainly identify it as a birdskin with the most lovely rosy-tinted feathery plumage, long legs and a spoon-shaped bill.

Then greatly to the relief of the uneasy Perk, the short man came out of the shack and said something that caused the other to accompany him back, thus clearing the field.

“Now let’s skip out,” Jack said softly.

Accordingly both watchers commenced sliding and creeping for all the world copying the movements of a cat ambushing a feeding sparrow in the back yard of a suburban place. Although so anxious to get started on their way back to where they had left their camouflaged ship, neither Jack nor his comrade would take chances in trying to make haste; they had long ago learned the folly of one false move when engaged in their accustomed job of spying upon a suspected law-breaker whom they had tracked down after an arduous chase.

When finally they reached a point where it was safe to pick up a little speed, Jack hastened to do so. For a wonder Perk was not saying a word–the truth was he had his mind so filled with bewilderment in connection with the queer happenings of the last hour that he could not think of any further questions to ask his chum.

Then, too, Perk kept on the alert for any peril that might by chance lie in wait along the trail–there were other dangers besides that solitary rattlesnake that might suddenly crop up to give them a chill–how about those nasty looking water moccasins that swarmed in the oozy swamp?–what of the ferocious bobcats such as were said to crouch on the lower limb of some tree close beside a woods trail, waiting to drop down on any moving object that came along?–yes, and other things just as creepy that his excited mind could readily conjure up?

They were, as Perk judged, about halfway to the spot where they had seen Mr. Rattler earlier in the day and the dusk was certainly beginning to make all objects look more or less dim, when Jack suddenly stopped, giving Perk quite a shock.

“Listen!” Jack was saying huskily.

A far-away and faint buzzing sound came to Perk’s ears but instead of adding to his excitement it really seemed to cool his blood, for surely this had nothing whatever to do with snakes of any kind.

“Huh! must be a crate partner!” bubbled the relieved Perk.

“No question about that, Perk, and growing clearer right along, showing it’s heading this way.”

“Mebbe the Lockheed-Vega comin’ back again?” ventured Perk.

“Hardly likely,” he was told instantly, “For one thing you’ll notice this motor racket swings up to us from the southwest, while the other ship struck off toward the east.”

“That’s straight goods,” Perk hastened to admit. “Funny I didn’t get on to that right away. Means our gent has a raft o’ ships comin’ an’ goin’ when he takes a notion to drop over here once in a while.”

“Well, we can’t stop to listen any longer,” said Jack again starting off with the other trailing close at his heels.

The buzzing grew rapidly in volume, proving that no matter where the advancing plane came from, its destination must be that secluded little cove close to the coquina shack sheltering the man of many faces, who went from fields of excitement to those connected with society functions, entertaining guests in royal style or following his favorite pursuit along the enchanting line of adding to his prized collection of Florida birds. Presently Perk heard a splash and knew the amphibian must have reached its goal.

CHAPTER XXIII

A PUGNACIOUS RATTLER

In good time they reached the narrow point on the animal trail which marked the scene of their adventure with the rattlesnake. Perk, wishing to be prepared for anything that might greet them, had picked up a stout cudgel with which he believed he could give a good account of himself should the occasion arise.

But they passed the place and he was beginning to breathe easier when he was thrilled by a brisk and ominous sound from just ahead. Instinctively Perk clutched his chum by the arm and dragged him back a pace although this was really unnecessary, since Jack had stopped walking at the same instant as Perk.

“Gosh all hemlock!” broke out Perk, “what d’ye think o’ that–jest awaitin’ round for us to come along–what a ’commodatin’ little pet he is!”

Jack could see the suggestive bulk of the coiled snake lying on the path, with scant room on either side for them to pass–oozy depths of the swamp on one side and an angry rattler on the other.

“Just blocks our game whichever way you choose to look at it,” chuckled Jack with a shrug. “If we were monkeys, we could shin up a tree and climb over to that other one beyond, but since we’re neither simians nor fox squirrels, we’ll have to settle this thing some other way. Drop that club, brother–it’s too short for this business by three feet. To try and use it on that chap you’d have to step up within range of his spring and before you could get in your lick it’d all be over.”

“Jest as you say, partner,” remarked Perk, throwing the stocky club away. “Wait up for me, Jack, an’ don’t let him skin out till I get back. I saw a stick just back a bit that ought to fill the bill okay.”

Jack stood on guard and waited but not for long, since Perk speedily rejoined him, carrying a pole about eight feet in length and stout in proportion.

“Careful how you work it,” advised Jack, who would rather have done the job himself but knew he would not be allowed by the ambitious one.

As Perk slowly advanced, waving his pole, the coiled serpent displayed signs of redoubled anger–louder buzzed his rattle while he drew back his flat head as though in readiness for action.

“Hold it there, buddy!” snapped Jack. “Now get a firm grip on your pole and draw back for a vicious rap–you’ve got to get him square in the middle and follow it up with more whacks in a big hurry. Don’t step any closer whatever you do. Now, give him fits, Perk!”

This the other proceeded to do with might and main. The sprightly buzz suddenly ceased as the great folds of the monster began to squirm and writhe–Perk lifted his pole and put in another blow for good measure.

“Huh!–guess now he’s got his for keeps,” gasped the victor in the singular duel as he managed to get in a third and deciding stroke that crushed the flat head of the reptile and forever ended its capacity for business.

They were soon bending over the still squirming snake, Perk eagerly measuring its length by footing it off and announcing it to be just one inch over five feet.

“Gimme just a minute so’s to whip off that bully rattle, partner,” he was saying as he produced a big pocketknife and opened its large blade. “I want it to show if any guy ever questions the truth o’ my yarn ’bout these here Florida rattlers. There you are, an’ now I’m ready to move on. But we got to keep our eyes peeled, ’cause I been told these critters nearly allers have a mate somewhere near by. An’ I’m meanin’ to hang on to this bully pole, since we got to come back this way more’n a few times, seems like.”

Nothing else cropped up to disturb their peace of mind and in due time the pair arrived at the secluded lagoon where they had left their aircraft so artfully concealed. Apparently nothing had happened in this quarter since they started forth on their mission, and yet what strange things had they not seen inside those few hours.

“Seems like supper’d come in fair good jest new,” Perk remarked after they had climbed carefully aboard and were once more comfortably seated in their accustomed places, “but sorry to say it’s bound to be only a ’pology for real grub–dry fare and never even a drop o’ water to wash it down with.” And he emitted a disgusted grunt, as if to display a proper amount of displeasure over the doleful fact.

“I noticed a well of some sort just back of that shack,” remarked Jack as if he too, shared in this moan over the absence of drinking water. “When we go back we’ll try and snatch a drink apiece so as to take the rusty feeling out of our throats. Until then we’ll have to put up with it, partner.”

Necessity knows no law and so Perk was compelled to grin and bear it. Just the same, as they were munching their simple fare,–and little of that in the bargain–Jack could hear him muttering to himself and chuckling from time to time as though he managed to squeeze more or less pleasure in simply mulling over a multitude of his favorite dishes until one would have imagined it was a waiter in a cheap eating joint down on the Bowery enumerating what the house offered for dinner–a la O. Henry.

Later on Perk gave signs of being what he called dopey, whereupon Jack asked whether he felt inclined to start out again or should it be left to just one of them–meaning himself, of course,–to undertake the further job of spying.

“Not much you don’t monopolize the fun,” Perk told him point blank. “I’m bound to step along with you even if there’d be a legion o’ them rattlebugs lyin’ in the trail awaitin’ to sting us. When I get started on anything I gen’rally keeps right on with it, even if I have to wade through hell-fire. An’ that goes, partner, see?”

“I knew you’d say that, brother,” Jack assured him, seeing Perk act as though hurt by the insinuation that anything would tempt him to let his pal meet the danger alone. “If you feel a bit empty down below, just rub your tummy briskly, then pull in your belt a notch or two and it’ll make you imagine you’re full-up to the brim. I’ll be ready to start off inside another ten minutes.”

Jack spent most of this time rummaging around in the locker where he kept his own personal belongings. Perk knew when he got out that little but valuable hand flashlight, by means of which they expected to be able to keep on the winding and narrow trail when heading once more toward the lonesome coquina shack on the border of the great inland sea.

“But I’m up in the air when it comes to knowin’ what else he’s stuck in his pockets,” Perk told himself, though somehow he managed to refrain from asking questions nor did Jack seem anxious to enter into any explanations.

“We’ll leave things here all fixed so as to make a quick take-off,” was what the chief pilot remarked as they prepared to step ashore and while he did not see fit to offer any explanation with regard to just what he had in mind, Perk felt thrilled to believe there was already some daring plan taking form in his comrade’s wide-awake brain that might be carried out if only the conditions seemed favorable, and the weather proved considerate.

As they walked slowly along Jack kept frequently snapping his light on and off so that they could take an instantaneous inventory of what lay just beyond their feet for the night proved exceedingly dark although all that would be changed after a while, when the late moon climbed into sight.

Perk, just as he promised himself, had made certain to pick up that serviceable pole with which he had dispatched the rattlesnake and this he kept poking out ahead, as if to stir up any lurking reptile that might be lying coiled in the path.

His nervousness increased as they drew near the spot where the one-sided fight had taken place. He had apparently been brooding over the matter, wondering if the mate of his victim could have come upon the scene of the tragedy and sensing what had happened, was lurking thereabouts, bent on exacting a terrible revenge in payment for the untimely demise of her partner.

When he felt certain they had passed this particular narrow part of the trail, Perk began to breathe easier, but he soon had reason to fear lest he was crowing too soon for just then he felt Jack buck up against him and heard him saying in a low but distinct voice:

“Hold up and listen, partner!”

CHAPTER XXIV

ON HANDS AND KNEES

Even while Jack was saying those few words, Perk had recovered from his sudden alarm, since he already knew the reason for the other’s bringing him to a halt.

“Huh! that crate’s startin’ off again, seems like,” he muttered.

Indeed, it was a foregone certainty for the splash of water told the story as well as the abrupt explosions of a working motor. Then, too, these suggestive sounds all came from directly ahead.

Then Perk had another gripping fear which he imagined must have also seized his companion–that the chief object of their concern might be a passenger aboard that ship, heading once more across the state to Miami and that in consequence, all of Jack’s carefully laid plans would meet the same untimely fate as befalls an ambitious soap-bubble when struck by a stray puff of air.

So they continued to stand there and listen to the telltale sounds with sinking hearts. Perk in particular seemed to be dreadfully put out by this fresh upset and was grinding his strong teeth as though desirous of letting out an explosive but restrained by the fact of Jack being so close at hand.

“Gee whiz! this here is what I call tough luck, Boss,” he grumbled, more because he hoped Jack might be able to dispel his fit of the blues in some way or other, having a much clearer vision than he himself possessed.

“Oh! I don’t know, partner,” said Jack in a wholesome, optimistic tone. “It looks a little dark, but just wait a minute or so before you croak–after all, the thing may not be so bad–it doesn’t pay to jump at conclusions.”

“Shucks! that’s me all over, old hoss, but I’m sure glad to hear you say the last chance ain’t snuffed out yet,” mumbled Perk contritely, but at least he had gained his point which was to coax Jack to mix a little good cheer in with the gloom that had descended on his, Perk’s soul.

“There, he’s off!” declared Jack as a significant change in the clatter so thoroughly understood by any airman announced the hop-off from the surface of the lake.

“An’ nothin’ happened to give him a spill, either,” Perk went on to say and the disconsolate vein in his tone told plainly enough how he had been secretly hugging to his heart a hope that the motor of the Lockheed-Vega crate might suddenly develop some fault, compelling the flight to be abandoned in its inception.

“Even that fact may yet turn out to be the best thing we could wish for,” Jack told him confidently, being built on the order of a fellow who could see something to rejoice over in nearly every occurrence, no matter how thick the gloom surrounding it.

“There he swings up an’ is off–a slick jump, b’lieve me an’ that guy’s some square shooter in the bargain–knows his business okay anyway. But Jack, tell me, you don’t think he’s got our man alongside him, do you?”

“Well, one thing seems to tell me that isn’t a fact, Perk.”

“Yeah, an’ what might that be?” demanded the other quickly.

“Notice that he’s already banking, so as to lay his course toward Cape Sable–square in the south–get that, don’t you Perk?”

“I swan, but you’re right there, Jack–which looks kinder like he didn’t mean to strike out for Miami, don’t it?”

“More than likely he’s hitting out for Cuba, or if he veers to the west, it’s Mexico or Honduras he means to head for.”

Perk heaved a big sigh of relief.

“Hot ziggetty! but that sounds good to me, partner,” he observed with renewed animation as hope again sang a sweet song in his heart. “Then there’s a real chance he ain’t got our man alongside.”

They stood there and continued to listen as the sounds made by the flight of the retreating seaplane gradually grew fainter and even for brief spells died out altogether.

“He’s out o’ the pictur’ anyhow,” Perk finally commented when they could no longer catch the least thud of the working motor–only a more pleasing sound in the shape of gentle wavelets running up the shore of the great lake being borne to their ears.

“Yes, and since that’s settled we’d better be making a further move ahead,” Jack was saying, in his sensible way.

Accordingly the advance was renewed, nor did they take any less precaution because of the departure of the flying boat.

As before, Jack continued to frequently make good use of his little flashlight, which proved its worth just as had been expected. So speedy were the flashes that it did not seem possible for any one to notice them unless he chanced to be on the watch for something suspicious and Jack hardly anticipated such a thing as that.

Apparently the one who had planned the raid believed there was only one course for them to pursue and that was to keep on as though everything was just as they had hoped. Even though an adverse Fate chose to cheat them them of their intended prey on this particular occasion there would be other days to come,–and had he not promised to trap his man as well as to procure all needful proof to secure his conviction?

They were soon drawing close to their goal–already Jack had glimpsed a shred of light gleaming through the intervening brush which proved most conclusively that the shack could not be wholly deserted.

“Good enough!” Perk whispered when this comforting fact had been brought to his attention, “we’ll get his goat yet, partner.”

Their progress was slowed up at this point for Jack no longer believed it good policy to make use of his flashlight. They had to partly feel their way along, using both hands and feet to detect the presence of any obstacle that was apt to cause them trouble.

Still, the night was long and there was no desire to make haste–if they waited until those in the shack were apt to be sound asleep it would be much easier to carry out their plan of campaign without any chance of interruption.