The Sky Pilot's Great Chase; Or, Jack Ralston's Dead Stick Landing. Newcomb Ambrose
complaining that things were so humdrum and dull so it tickled him to have a chance to test his nerve again. And you can see he’s especially fond of little boys, not girls. We expect to leave Salt Lake City any hour now as we are aviators, – flying men you know – and have a job ahead of us. Before saying goodnight to you, madam, would you mind telling us if we can be of any further assistance to you and your fine boy here – pardon me for mentioning it, but are you supplied with present funds, since possibly you may have to remain here in the hospital for a week or more?”
She looked at him and smiled as though pleased with the solicitude he showed but she shook her head and hastened to say:
“We are not what you would call poor, for we have good friends back of us. Indeed, it was my intention to start for Spokane tomorrow as I must try to find a certain party whose present whereabouts means everything to me. So please do not worry about us, for we can get on. It was a furnished flat we occupied and while I have lost all my clothes as well as those of Adrian, that lack can easily be replaced. I thank you for your card giving me your Washington address. Some day perhaps you may hear from me and possibly I shall have some pleasant news to tell you but just now it is all wrapped up in mystery. So much depends on my finding the one who does not dream of the information we are carrying to him. If only my clue proves trustworthy.”
That was as much as Jack learned and it was bound to often come up in his mind, causing him to wonder what the “good news” she mentioned could be.
V
AT THE FLYING FIELD
It was pretty late when they sat down to supper that night but as Jack had predicted, the appetite of his chum was amply recompense for the delay. They had done a good deed and best of all managed to get away before any inquisitive newspaper men arrived at the hospital on the track of a sensational beat.
“Which pleases me a whole lot,” Jack went on to say as they started eating.
“Same here ol’ hoss,” added Perk, with unction. “Once them chaps get on the scent o’ a good story they never do let up till it’s spread out on the front page after bein’ blue-penciled by the city editor. I know how it’s put through, ’cause I got some pretty good friends in the bunch – they’re all wool an’ a yard wide on everything ’cept pokin’ their noses into the private affairs o’ citizens and couples that jest can’t get on in double harness.”
“Just imagine what a nasty shock it’d be to us both Perk, to see our names and pictures staring at us under a scare line of black type – yes, and like as not with as much as they could scrape together about our private business – nice way to upset all the plans of Secret Service hounds on the trail of big game, I must say.”
“Honest, I didn’t give away a single thing, buddy,” said Perk with unusual earnestness, which was as good as an invitation for Jack to clear his skirts of the same suspicion, which he hastened to do.
“I simply gave her my address in Washington – at my room, you understand, Perk – I wanted her to write to me later on so we could know how they both came out after that nasty squeeze play. Not a whisper what line of business we followed and I asked her as a particular favor not to let a single soul know who the two parties were to whom she and her boy owed their narrow escape from being trapped in that burning house. She said the name would never pass her lips and that she would write, after something she was bound to accomplish had been put through. Of course I couldn’t even give more than a guess what that is, only she seemed dreadfully in earnest and I reckon it might be a reconciliation with her husband, Adrian’s father.”
Perk nodded his head solemnly.
“Huh! mebbe so, Jack, mebbe so, lots o’ that sort o’ trouble goin’ ’round these days, seems like. Now I wonder if you thought to ask what her name might be?”
“Queer that I didn’t think to do that, partner,” Jack told him with a little laugh. “I reckon I must have been a little absent-minded but that’s nothing to us for chances are we’ll never meet the lady again. How about you and the boy?”
“He told me his name, Jack, when he gave me this little picture he happened to have in his pocket – you see on the back it’s got written, I guess by his Mom herself: ‘Adrian, at six’; but tarnation take the luck if I ain’t jest plumb forgot the last name he told me – somethin’ like Burnham or Barnard – begins with a B, I’m dead sure – Buster, Bramley – Buttons – well, for the love o’ mike I can’t strike oil but it’ll come back, given a little time.”
“And I can see plain enough if it keeps on skipping you it’s bound to keep you busy guessing right along,” Jack was saying, for only too well did he know this little weakness on the part of his comrade. Perk was bound to keep on pounding away at that puzzle day and night, giving himself no rest until he either solved the riddle or else some one told him the answer – left to himself he would never give up trying.
“Like as not, buddy,” replied Perk, frowning darkly; “seems I’m gettin’ up a tree every little while – never could remember names worth a cent but I don’t forget faces, you understand.”
“And then too, you’re a great hand for remembering to hear the first sound of the dinner bell,” said Jack with a chuckle.
“I sure am some punkins ’bout that,” admitted the amiable Perk with one of his goodnatured grins spreading over his homely face.
“What’s the program after we’ve cleaned up this mess, eh partner?” inquired Jack, who doubtless could make a good guess from previous experience as to what his companion’s answer was apt to be, but for once he counted without his host.
“Wall,” observed Perk shaking his head, “I did mean to take a look in at the pictur house, seein’ they got my ol’ favorite, Milton Sills booked tonight but shucks! it’s too late an’ ’sides, somehow I kinder lost my likin’ for action jest now – mebbe I got my fill in that busy bee session with the fire fiend down by the tenement district – kinder a bit lame in the arm muscles, so I figger on rubbin’ ’em with my salve that worked so fine after my rough landin’ away back. Yep, I’ll cut out the movies for one night in port an’ go to bed early.”
“I’m meaning to pick up all the extra sleep possible,” ventured Jack at which his mate nodded approvingly.
“I get you, partner,” he hastened to say, “kinder figgerin’ on our skippin’ out any ol’ time an’ like as not runnin’ up against a rough passage that’ll keep us on the jump. But I sure would like to have even an inklin’ which way that hop-off’s goin’ to lead us.”
“I’m surprised at such a reckless, devil-may-care sort of chap as I’ve known you to be, Perk, bothering your poor nut about such a silly thing just as if it mattered two cents to either of us which way we head – nothing ought to give us a second thought except that we’re ready to jump in and carry through, any old place under the sun.”
“Yeah! but then what’d I find to worry ’bout if I didn’t pick on the way we’re kept in the dark up to the last minute?”
Jack looked at him blankly and shook his head as if such peculiar philosophy were too much for him to master – then he changed the subject and the meal went on until even Perk, with his tremendous cargo capacity, could contain no more.
They sat in their room reading until their eyes getting heavy warned them it was time to hit the hay, as Perk was so fond of calling the act of getting into bed.
In the morning they were both astir, for it so happened that neither had ever shown signs of being late sleepers, save on special occasions.
“Another day,” remarked Jack while leisurely dressing, for since they had nothing afoot (save to possibly take a few hours’ spin in order to keep in practice as well as test out several new devices with which they had as yet not become as familiar as Jack would like), there was no necessity for any hurry.
“An’ wouldn’t I give somthin’ if only I knew we could check out before sundown tonight,” grumbled Perk, yawning and stretching as though life was becoming entirely too tame