Kitobni o'qish: «Trackers of the Fog Pack; Or, Jack Ralston Flying Blind»

CHAPTER I
Perk Sighs for Action

San Diego, in sunny Southern California, was looking its prettiest, with balmy breezes blowing softly; cloudless blue skies overhead; the usual throngs on the streets, and a general atmosphere of contentment resting over the entire place.

Already tourist pilgrims were beginning their annual migration from the cold lands of the north and northeast, seeking the more congenial climate along the picturesque Coast, where flowers bloomed throughout every month of the year; and outdoor sports of all descriptions tempted those inclined that way to participate.

But, just the same, there appeared to be one individual sauntering along Main Street, in a certain San Diego suburb, who did not seem to share in the general joyous spirit – this grumbler amidst such perfect surroundings was really an old friend of the reader, no other than Gabe Perkiser, familiarly known among his fellows of the flying fields by the shorter name of “Perk.”

At his side stalked his bosom pal, Jack Ralston, in whose company latterly the said Perk had participated in a number of thrilling flying stunts, all of which have been narrated in the earlier books of this series of aviation stories.

Those who have enjoyed a previous recital of their adventures in the precarious vocation they followed, as policemen of the skies, need no further introduction to the pair of cronies. For the benefit of new readers, less fortunate, it may be said right here, before embarking on the latest and most thrilling of their recent exploits, that Jack and Perk were trusted members of Uncle Sam’s wide-flung Secret Service organization; and on account of their clever and conscientious work, often entrusted with some of the most dangerous and difficult missions engaging the attention of the high “muck-a-muck” (Perk’s definition) authorities at Washington Headquarters.

“What puts you in the dumps so, Perk?” Jack was asking, after noticing for the tenth time what a frown had settled on his chum’s usually smiling phiz. “Dinner knocking harder than customary; or did you get a letter from your best girl, breaking off the engagement? Strikes me you’re fast becoming a chronic crêpe-hanger these days.”

“That’s all hot air – boloney I’d call it, as yeou know right well, Jack!” Perk flung back. “Chow was all to the good – ain’t got nary a best gal, an’ never did have, neither – they’re all rank pizen to me. Guess again, Mister.”

“Then what does ail you, boy – something gone wrong with your plans – can I do anything to ease the strain? I’d go a long way to get you out of that black look, partner; you’re worrying me a heap I allow.”

The other stopped short on Main Street’s pavement, and looked his companion straight in the face, actually smiling a bit in the bargain.

“Yeou would do jest that, ole pal, wouldn’t yeou? I know I’m a tarnel fool to get stewed like this,” he burst out; “an’ orter be ashamed – I’m meanin’ to kick outen it right away. Fact is, it’s the same ole story, Jack – I’m gettin’ fed up by things goin’ too smooth. Guess it’s in the blood – my Yankee ancestors they was all men o’ action, doers o’ things that called fur courage an’ double risk. They set their seal on me, seems like; fur ever since I was a kid I’ve been on the hunt fur adventure by land an’ sea; yeah, an’ o’ late years, in the air besides. That’s all I gotter say; but blood’ll tell ev’ry time.”

“Well,” remarked Jack, looking much relieved it could be seen. “I more than half suspected this, Perk; but cheer up – the longest lane must have its turning. Meanwhile we’re getting our regular pay from our Uncle Samuel, remember!”

“But not earnin’ a red cent, jest the same, which is what upsets me most,” continued the complaining one. “Makes me feel like I’m sorter pensioned off, an’ ain’t worth the snap o’ my fingers to the Service. Huh!”

“Nonsense, boy, that’s a silly way of looking at things. We’re just resting up after that difficult job we pulled off, with the help of the Mounted Police, far away up in Northwest Canada.¹ That successful flight, and arrest, earned us a vacation, our superiors believe; which I for one have enjoyed immensely. Now I’m feeling fine, and fit for the next commission the Big Boss decides to hand out to us.”

“Hot-diggetty-dig! then I sure hopes it drifts this way right quick,” Perk eagerly observed. “I kinder guess them racketeers an’ their crowd o’ bootleggers must a got things mighty near sewed up, when the Department lets us loaf away our time out here on the Gold Coast. If it keeps on we’ll be apt to forget heow to handle a ship, an’ get air shy – neow wouldn’t that same be a tough joke on us poor guys?”

“Little danger of such a thing coming to pass, Perk – it’s a whole bit like swimming – once you learn how to keep afloat it’s good for a life-time.”

“Mebbe so, Jack – I got a hunch it’s the same way with ridin’ a bike used to be – first few days yeou felt stiff in all yeour joints, ev’rything out o’ kelter; but when a chump got used to guidin’ the skittish wheel along it came as easy as fallin’ off a log. Honest Injun, neow, Jack, ain’t yeou any idea when we’re apt to grab an order to get goin’ again?”

“Any old day I’m looking for the same, Perk.”

“Gosh! that don’t strike me as givin’ much encouragement, partner,” Perk told his mate, aggrievedly.

“I wrote in ten days ago,” Jack went on to say, quietly, “to say our ship was in first-class condition, while we were on deck, waiting for orders.”

“Bully for yeou!” snapped Perk, brightening up visibly, as though, like a war horse at the scent of burnt powder making his nostrils quiver with anticipation. “I’m right neow yearnin’ to set eyes on a different landscape than sleepy ol’ San Diego, an’ slow towns borderin’ on the same.”

Perk only stated a truth when he referred to his adventurous life. He was considerably older than his running mate, having been over in France when only eighteen years of age, handling a sausage balloon on the fighting line, and running into numerous close corners, having been shot down at least twice.

After the war was over he came home, and started learning the ropes of the new craze – flying; becoming a very good pilot in time, though a bit reckless, it must be admitted.

Then he drifted into the lumber camps, and played logger for a few seasons. After that Perk, who was proud of having a strain of Canadian blood along with his Yankee heritage, turned up among the Mounties in the Far Northwest regions and spent some years doing service with those dashing officers enforcing the Law of the wilderness.

Meeting up with Jack Ralston – after being coaxed to throw his fortunes in with the Secret Service at Washington, he took a strong liking for the bright-witted youngster, and they had been boon comrades ever since, sharing their blankets, meeting all manner of peril in company, and becoming what might be called real “blood brothers.”

So, too, had Jack been through some interesting experiences, although not of the same thrilling character as those Perk could look back to, when musing of the past.

He had had a run of circus training, being a natural athlete; and on the bills had been advertised as a famous trapeze performer. Then naturally the lure of the air gripped Jack, and forsaking the sawdust ring he began making parachute drops with one of those barnstorming aviators possessing a dilapidated crate with which he was wont to give exhibitions at Harvest Home festivals, and County Fairs all over the West – just as Lindbergh did in his school days.

It was in this fashion that young Ralston learned to be a clever pilot; and possibly his skill at the controls was one leading factor bringing about an earnest invitation for him to join up with the Secret Service – about that time it became evident that a new branch of the Law organization must be built up, in order to compete with the lawless smuggling gangs that were already using airplanes with which to fetch contraband of every description into the country.

So well did the pair co-operate that they worked as two parts of the whole machine – as one hand knows what the other hand requires to make a finished product so their brains often worked in unison, thus adding additional strength to their united efforts.

As they continued their walk, meaning to return to the city in time for lunch, Perk continued to ramble on with observations covering much ground; for he had a decided opinion on every variety of subject, and could be depended on to exploit his ideas at the slightest invitation.

“No use talkin,’ Jack,” he was saying, as he tapped his pocket significantly, “that same Jerry Slocum’s a crackin’ good locksmith an’ gunsmith. I took up with his offer, yeou know, to put my ol’ six-shooter, used in France with my work in the sausage balloon corps, in apple-pie condition; an’ he done a smart job. He happened to have some ammunition to fit the gun, so I laid in a bunch o’ cartridges, meanin’ to shoot at a target when time hung heavy on my hands. But listen, will yeou, ol’ pard, what’s all that whoopin’ mean ’round the corner jest ahead – sounds like a reg’lar stampede was takin’ place, I’d say if yeou asked me?”

CHAPTER II
He Gets His Wish

“Some excitement, I own up, Perk,” agreed Jack, exchanging a look of inquiry with his companion. “Dog fight, like as not, since I thought I heard a yowling just then, as if one mutt’d got his in the neck.”

“Jest hear the people a shoutin’ will yeou?” snapped Perk.

“But that doesn’t sound like they were enjoying themselves a heap, I’d say, boy – such screaming and yelling – they’re badly rattled over whatever’s going on. What could it all mean, I wonder?”

“Hot-diggetty-dig! we’ll know right soon, ole hoss; ’cause it’s headin’ this way – gettin’ a heap louder ev’ry second, I vow! Guess yeou struck it right when yeou sez they must be skeered into a near panic. Don’t hear no guns agoin’ off, so it cain’t be a brawl ’tween drunken bootleggers an’ town constables. Well, I swan, it gets me – look at the folks a beatin’ it to the houses, like they reckoned they’d be safer there. Mebbe we better shin up a telegraph pole like that youngster’s a doin’ over yonder – he means to git high an’ dry, so’s to see the circus, but not take chances with the runaway animal’s flyin’ heels. Wow! what’s this I lamp a comin’ ’reound that corner, waggin’ his ole head from side to side – a big yeller dog, Jack, with foam a drippin’ from his open red mouth! Great guns!”

“That beast is as mad as a hatter!” boomed Jack, thrilled by the frightful sight. “He’s bound to own the whole street, no matter if a battalion of cops try to sheer him off!”

“Mebbe, mate,” Perk was shouting “we’d better be steppin’ to one side in a hurry; I ain’t lost nary dog; an’ I’m not fool enough to want to stand up ’fore one that’s rabid – not Gabe Perkiser! Get a move on, Jack, an’ vamose!”

“Wait up!” cried the other, for so great was the clamor no one could expect to be heard unless he fairly shouted.

“Excuse me, boy – I got a date!” Perk bellowed back, grinning as he spoke.

“Look ahead, Perk – that child – little boy he is – fell down in his fright, and must’ve sprained his ankle – see him try to scramble up again; but he can’t manage it, what with his fright and twisted ankle. The dog – it’s making straight for the youngster – we can’t stand by, and see him tackle such a mere baby – we’ve just got to do something, Perk!”

“Sure do, partner – let’s go!”

Others were running in every direction save toward the great ugly beast, thinking in their panicky state of nerves only of their own safety. All the while the shouts continued to go booming along the length of Main Street:

“Mad dog! mad dog! everybody run – get the children indoors! He’s rabid and ready to snap at anybody in his way! Run for it!”

But the poor little baby directly in the path of the oncoming demon could not heed the shouts – vainly he tried to crawl to one side, his terrified eyes fixed on that dreadful vision of fury and rabies confronting him, and drawing closer with every passing second.

Jack and Perk were galloping forward with all their might, intending to throw themselves between the child and that stumbling terror with the lolling head and dripping jaws.

It could be seen that Perk was gripped by a sudden inspiration – he had dragged some sort of object from his pocket, and was working feverishly with the same. Jack understood, and inwardly blessed the lucky chance that had caused his pal to fetch his old war weapon out to his friend the town gunsmith, so as to have it put in first-class condition. It must have been the hand of a kind fate that brought about this wonderful coincidence, Jack was telling himself, when guessing that the running airman must be trying with all his cleverness to insert a cartridge or two into the chambers of the small, antiquated six-shooter.

Fortune favored them, for they were enabled to pass beyond the writhing and shrieking child, thus facing the danger themselves as a shield to buck up against the charge of the mad dog.

Perk dropped down on one knee – it was the natural position for one to assume under such conditions, bringing him more on a level with the beast. Jack, too, knew he had a part in the scheme to save the tiny lad – lacking a weapon of any kind he could not stand by Perk; but one thing was left to him, which was to snatch up the imperiled child, and leap to safety before the crisis crashed upon them.

Even as he was thus bearing the lad out of the danger zone, he caught a sudden explosion that told him Perk had sent in a shot. It was his bosom pal crouched back there with that shaggy beast almost upon him; for he knew full well Perk had waited until he could make doubly certain of his aim.

Somehow Jack could not keep from turning his head, so as to know the worst – he had a cold feeling in the region of his heart, undoubtedly fearing he would discover Perk engaged in a furious struggle at close quarters with the animal, one bite from whose jaws would contaminate the flesh his cruel fangs thus mangled.

But that fear was instantly put to flight – Perk still knelt there, while the furious beast writhed on the ground, making frightful efforts to get up on its four feet again.

This he no sooner succeeded in doing than Perk let him have a second leaden pill, working his keepsake weapon of the great war with mechanical precision. How lucky then he must have succeeded in thrusting two cartridges into the maw of his gun, since there proved to be such great need of an encore.

It was “all over but the shouting,” as Perk himself would have put it. He rose to his feet, and coolly stepped forward, to bend over and see that there no longer remained a single breath in the carcase of the terrible brute he had stayed in his mad passage through the town.

The tenor of the wild shouts changed like magic – joy and triumph, not to say relief, began to be heard, as if reassuring the frightened populace there was no longer anything to be feared – the ogre Jabberwock had been laid low, and once again the length of Main Street could be traversed without peril to life and limb.

And the one who had performed this valorous deed seemed only anxious to make himself scarce before the worshiping citizens could lay hands on him – shower him with thanks, perhaps kisses as well from the gentler sex, who knew a hero in the flesh as well as on the Hollywood screen.

Jack was trying the best he knew how to allay the terror of the child he still held in his arms, speaking to him with assurance in his tones, and squeezing the white-faced little chap close to his heart.

“It’s all right, buddy,” he kept saying, with a comforting smile on his face, that was bound to stop the trembling sobs of the other, if anything could. “The ugly dog can’t hurt you, for he’s been killed, and can never bite anybody. You must have hurt your ankle, little brother; I’m going to carry you to where you live, so they can take care of you, and get the kind doctor to take the pain away. Put your arms around my neck, and I’ll be able to hold you better – that’s the way, kiddie; you know I’m a good friend of yours, don’t you?”

The crowd was all around them by this time, milling so as to get as close as possible – it reminded Jack of cattle being rounded up by expert punchers, so as to be shipped to market, or it might be, branded.

“Stand back, please, and give us air!” Jack called out, to add: “Perk, see that they don’t crowd in any further. I’m not going to be satisfied until I’ve seen this little lad safe in his home. Who knows where he lives?”

There were a dozen voices raised in explanations; but Jack lifted a hand to stop the confused racket.

“Hold up on that!” he told them, sharply; “I want just one person to tell me – here, you boy, you seem to know him okay – tell me his name, will you, and where he lives – nobody else break in now, get that? Go on, George, speak up!”

“My name’s Jimmy – his’n is Laddy Boy – he lives with his granny Mrs. Fergussan right ’round that next corner, in a little shack.”

“Fine for you Jimmy – lead us to it; and please everybody stop pushing – that shouting must be dropped, or you’ll have the old lady frightened half to death before we get there. Now start along, Jimmy – you’re a good pal to tie to, I’ll say.”

So they made a start, with scores following after them, all talking; but in more subdued tones. Possibly they realized that this young chap with the capable look, and firm voice, was one accustomed to having his orders obeyed without any questions being asked, and that he would brook no interference.

As they turned into the side street the young pilot hastened to point in the direction of a small old, but respectable looking cottage of some three rooms, that was surrounded by masses of flowers in full bloom.

Jack could see the door of the small house was wide open, and that an elderly woman stood there, shading her eyes with a hand, as she watched the approach of the crowd. Undoubtedly she must have heard what had been so loudly shouted, when the mad dog was causing such a panic on Main Street – she may even have started toward the nearby corner, with a great fear tugging at her heart, knowing her Laddie Boy was going about on the little errand she had entrusted to him; but if so fear had driven her back to the home, where she could slam the door shut in case personal peril threatened her.

Seeing Jack in the lead of the procession, carrying some object in his arms, she came flying down to meet him, looking aghast.

“Don’t be so alarmed Mrs. Ferguson,” Jack said, sympathizing with her new fears; “he wasn’t bitten by the dog; but had the bad luck to sprain his ankle. It’s nothing serious, I’m telling you straight – lead the way, and I’ll put him on a bed, when you can send for the doctor to look him over; but don’t worry – he’s safe enough, I promise you.”

Presently Jack joined his partner.

“Let’s go, matey,” Perk hastened to say, uneasily, as though he feared those admiring good folks outside were actually conspiring to pick him up on their shoulders, and march around town with the hero of the mad dog scare; something like that, but to which he was very must averse.

“Wait a few minutes,” Jack told his nervous comrade, “I promised the old lady I’d stay out here until the doctor had looked the child over; she wants to get the story out of us, I imagine, guessing something queer must have happened, from the way those folks kept pawing at us.”

Perk drew a long breath, and muttered something under his breath that sounded like “drat the tough luck;” but he did settle down on a chair, and amused himself looking around the room, on the walls of which were a number of cheap pictures, also several portraits.

“Come over here, Perk,” Jack was saying, as he stood in front of the picture of a man, “here’s a queer happening – look at that face – have you ever seen it before?”

CHAPTER III
Echoes of the Past

Looking rather surprised, as well as duly curious after his nature, Perk accordingly stepped blithely up, took one good stare, and immediately burst out with his characteristic and pet “swear-word” phrase:

“Hot-diggetty-dig! hard to b’lieve my eyes, for a fact, partner – course I seen that phiz afore neow, an’ same stirs up some mighty warm session we passed through a while back.”

“Then you say it’s a portrait of Slim Garrabrant?” asked Jack, in a lower key, and with a quick glance toward the connecting door that was a bit ajar it happened.

“None other, buddy – the slickest flim-flam artist that ever fooled the banks of every state west o’ the Mississip – fair good job that crayon artist made o’ his work – mebbe copied from a reg’lar photo. Ain’t this this the limit though – to think o’ runnin’ acrost his mug out here clost to San Diego. Huh! I allers heard the world seemed mighty small sometimes, an neow I b’lieves it.”

Jack put a finger up to his lips warningly.

“Softly, Perk. That old lady must be some close connection of Slim’s, I’d say; it may be his own mother – yes, the fact of finding his picture hanging on this wall in an honored place makes that plain; she evidently doesn’t know what a rogue her boy is – they must have kept things from reaching her ears after we gobbled him up, and he was sent to Leavenworth – or was it Atlanta?”

“Yeou got me there, ’cause I never did know,” observed Perk, taking yet another look at the face within the gold frame. “Aint sech a tough looker as we know he is, eh, ole pal?”

“Yes, that’s a fact; but then this was evidently taken years ago, most likely, before he became so hardened. I wonder – ”

“What neow, Jack?”

“That handsome little boy must be some relative of Slim’s,” said Jack, on a hazard; “if he was old enough I’d begin to believe the kid was his own child – they call her Grandmammy Ferguson, remember – yes, that would square things I’d reckon, Perk.”

“Aint it won-der-ful?” the other was saying, half to himself apparently; “jest to think o’ us arunnin’ smack into somebody connected with the man we was responsible for sendin’ to the pen years ago. ’Bout one chanct in a million sech a thing could happen; but it shore has.”

Jack also showed that he was feeling about the same as his comrade; indeed it was one of the queerest episodes he had ever met up with.

“If that turns out to be a fact,” he went on to comment, “I imagine Garrabarnt behind the bars would give considerable for a glimpse of that kid’s sweet face.”

“I wouldn’t blame him any at that, Jack. How ’bout the kid – dye kinder guess he’ll have a bad time with that leg?”

“The doctor will be able to say after he’s had a lookover,” came the confident answer. “My opinion is it’ll prove to be a simple sprain, and if such is the case the child will only have to keep quiet for a spell. There’s a car stopping at the gate, and the man getting out has the look of a professional – yes, he’s carrying a little satchel in the bargain, so it must be the doctor she sent after.”

This proved to be the case, for the young man spoke to them on entering, and seemed very agreeable.

“What’s happened here?” he asked, as though his hasty summons, and the sight of that excited crowd outside, had aroused his curiosity greatly.

Jack thought the doctor should be told what necessity there was for his services; as such knowledge would prepare him for what must follow. Accordingly he very briefly explained, making light of what connection he and Perk had with the matter.

Thus forewarned the doctor smiled his thanks, and hastened to pass into the room where the old lady and the child were located. Some little time afterwards the doctor came out again. Perk could see from the look on his face it was not so very serious, nor was he mistaken in his diagnosis.

“A simple sprain, just as you suspected,” the physician assured them; “and he’ll be running around again inside of five days.”

He shook hands with them very earnestly, which fact caused Perk to remark, after the doctor had passed out of the door:

“Huh! it’s mighty plain to be seen, Jack, he’s smart enough to smell a rat – the grip he gimme said as he kinder guessed we had a finger in the pie. Look for yeourself, partner – he’s talkin’ to some o’ the folks out there, an’ I jest bet yeou they’re a makin’ out we done somethin’ grand. Rats! why caint a gink do a simple thing like we done without people wantin’ to gush over him? Makes me fair sick to see so much o’ the stuff wasted. Do we get a move on right away, mate?”

“Better wait up a bit until he starts back to his office,” suggested Jack, also peeping out of the window.

“Yeou said it, Jack – if we stepped eout right neow it’d look like we wanted ’em to give us a cheer – as for me I’d be glad if we could slip away by the back door, an’ give ’em the laugh. There, he’s gettin’ into his car, an’ the coast’s clear.”

Jack stepped into the other room to say goodbye to the old lady – for she did seem to be of a higher class than one would think from the humble cottage she called home – truth to tell Jack wished to have another look at that bright-faced little lad, whom he was apt to remember for a long time.

The boy had come-to, and shook hands at Jack’s request, also gave him a sweet smile.

“If he owes either of us any thanks,” Jack told Granny, as he turned to leave, “it should go to my chum; who chanced to have a gun in his pocket, having had it cleaned and repaired at a shop here – he threw himself between the ugly dog and the child, and shot the mad brute dead. The lad wasn’t touched, I assure you, madam.”

“Thank him for me a thousand times, please, young man – it was a brave act, and his mother surely has cause to be grateful for having such a son. Come and see us sometime later on; both of us will be very glad to have you drop in.”

Jack hurried out, with a strange thought racing through his brain; he could not help wondering what that fine elderly woman would think if only she knew how the two young men thus befriending her grandson (who must have been so precious to her heart) had been the chief instrument in shape of the outraged Law to run down and send her son-in-law Slim Garrabarnt, up to the penitentiary for a long term of years, as a much wanted criminal.

It was hardly a pleasant thought, but nothing to be ashamed of, since he merely represented the Government in all he had done, and could not be blamed any more than the judge who dealt out the grim sentence.

Perk was eager to be gone, and led the way outside. They pushed a passage through the still jabbering crowd, and walked off, followed by admiring looks from those gathered there.

On the way back to the city Perk seemed to be wrapped in his own thoughts much of the time, which was such an unusual occurrence that Jack marveled to take note of his silence.

“Still o’ the opinion the kid might be his’n?” Perk asked his companion, as they finally drew near the location of the building in which they had a furnished room.

“Feel pretty sure of it,” he was told, without the slightest hesitation. “I explained to the old lady that it was you who kept the dog from contact with the child, and she asked me to thank you with all her heart.”

“Shucks! why did yeou ever mention sech a thing, Pal Jack? ’Twan’t nawthin’ ’tall – jest a soft snap for a chap what was yearnin’ for action. But it gives me a queer thrill to know heow we run up agin his folks – ’bout a hundred-an’-thirty million people in this here country, an’ to think we’d pick ’em aout o’ all that mob – it sure has got me buffaloed for keeps.”

As Jack opened the locked door of their room he stooped to pick up some object that had been thrust underneath. Perk saw it was a letter, with a special delivery stamp on the same. Somehow its coming gave him a sudden thrill around the region of his heart, as though he could sense important news in the offing – apparently this was destined to be a red-letter day in their experiences, with a decided break in the long release from active duty.