Wings Over the Rockies; Or, Jack Ralston's New Cloud Chaser. Newcomb Ambrose
my smoke, partner,” said Perk complacently enough. “I’m not agoin’ to let any o’ that mob crab my game. Men in our class don’t go around doin’ their stuff in the open, like they was magicians throwin’ a fit. We got to know how to mix things a heap an’ pull the wool over the eyes o’ the crowd. So far as they need to know, we’re jest a couple o’ guys out for a lark an’ with shekels to burn.”
“That’s the ticket Perk, keep the racket going up to the time we pull out of Cheyenne no matter which way we climb. Well, here goes to knock our tail on the ground again then for a bite of supper at the Emporium and a look in at some show. I’m getting a bit tired of this inaction, to tell you the honest truth. I reckon both of us will be glad to get our next orders and cut loose with our nobby ship.”
“You said a mouthful buddy that time,” observed Perk as he raised his hands with the intention of removing the earphones since they were at the end of their afternoon check-up, delightfully happy because their plane had shown its exceedingly strong points.
Now they were circling for the last time and those below, discovering just about where they meant to land, had started on the run, apparently eager to be on hand in order to obtain a fresh close-up of the mysterious chums who had been hanging around the airport for such a length of time.
Never had a boat dropped down more lightly than did their craft – Jack could not help giving his mate a look of overpowering joy at the slight impact, which was returned in full measure by the proud Perk who anticipated wonderful things to come when they got going for fair up among the clouds or dodging through the canyons of the mighty Rockies, wherever the hand of Fate, and orders from Headquarters, took them.
So the landing was made and the wonder ship safely housed in the hangar they had hired which could be securely locked to keep curious minded or unscrupulous people from trying to get a line on its several novel features.
A short but serious-looking chap came up to have a few words with Jack – this was the party who had been hired especially to keep watch and ward over their highly prized aerial steed. Cal Stevens had been recommended as a man to be trusted and although he had no positive knowledge of their identity, he did know they were clean sportsmen and men of their word. Consequently Jack felt the precious ship given into their charge by the Government would be carefully guarded throughout each night.
They left the field with several figures trailing after them for the mystery hovering over their movements had piqued the curiosity of a number of men. All manner of queer stories, resting on insecure foundations, had been rumored so that people pointed them out in the street and some wise-acres even gained considerable notoriety by pretending to know it all, though under a pledge to keep their secret inviolate.
It became even necessary to resort to expedients in order to shake these snoopers as the indignant Perk called them and usually a vehicle of some sort offered them an easy way to beat out the clan. On this particular evening, however, a big car occupied by several men whom they did not remember having noticed before, kept after their own vehicle up to the very door of the modest house in which they had a room.
“I say it’s a danged shame,” stormed the angry Perk as the two of them started to strip and get into ordinary citizen’s clothing so they would not attract unpleasant attention while eating their supper and attending the movies later on – “that pesky car kept on our tail right up to the door an’ chances are it’s parked somewhere out there right now, awaitin’ for us to hike over to the Emporium restaurant. Riles me for fair, partner, an’ for two cents I’d like to stand them hoboes on their heads, on’y I guess that’d be fool’s play for me.”
“It certainly would, Perk,” his chum assured him as they dressed. “Men in the detective line never want to draw attention to themselves for once it’s known what calling they’re engaged in and a lot of their value to their employers is lost. That’s just why the detectives in big cities like New York wear masks when suspects are lined up each morning for inspection. You know that, of course, Perk, but I’m just reminding you because if you get all ‘het up’ you might say or do something that would spill the beans for us.”
“I’ll cool down right away, Jack old hoss,” the other assured him contritely. “That’s my greatest weakness you know, an’ I’m countin’ on my best pal to keep a finger on my pulse so’s to check me up when I threaten to run loose with my too ready tongue. Wait a minute, Jack, till I get a paper so I c’n read up on the dope as I munch my feed. I’m wanting to learn whether anything’s been heard from our mutual friend, Buddy Warner, the best air mail pilot on the job today.”
“I certainly hope he’s turned up since we jumped off this morning,” said Jack with more than his customary earnestness. “There must be a dozen or two ships scouring the country in search of Buddy.” This pilot had never reached his port of call two days back and is believed to be down somewhere in that wild country among the big hills and canyons, either dead or badly hurt and needing a helping hand right away.
Perk gave a hurried glance at the scare-heads on the front page of the newspaper he had purchased and then grunted dismally.
“Nothin’ doin’ so far, partner,” he announced with a sigh that welled up from the very depths of his warm, friendly heart. “More ships a’startin’ out from every-which-way. A happenin’ like this, when the lost guy chances to be a friendly dick that everybody likes, seems to arouse that sportsman spirit that you find in all air pilot circles. It gets to be a reg’lar fever, with even famous flyers givin’ up vacations they’d been lookin’ forward to for weeks, just to start out an’ try to locate the lost man. Huh! nothin’d tickle me more than a chance to lend a hand myself, on’y we’re in the Government’s employ and can no more quit our job than air mail lads could throw the letter sacks in the discard and sail around peekin’ into every gulch an’ hidin’ place in the mountains in hopes o’ bein’ the lucky guy to fetch Buddy back.”
“I’m mighty sorry nothing’s been found out,” said Jack, “but the boys are sure to comb every rod of ground again and again until it’s certain he can’t be located. But here’s our restaurant Perk, so let’s drop in and dine.”
II
PERK GROWS SUSPICIOUS
“I swan if it don’t beat all creation what stuff these newspaper boys do turn out when they’re put on the job o’ pickin’ up sensational news,” Perk was saying some time later as both he and his companion were satisfying their hunger with such viands as appealed to their taste upon the bill of fare.
“What ails you now, comrade?” asked Jack, smilingly for he always found the strongly expressed likes and dislikes of his chum a never failing well of interest that frequently brought out one of his seldom used chuckles.
“Why, seems like they never let a chance get past to fetch Lindbergh into the picture, no matter if he’s three thousand miles off as the crow flies. Here one account tells that it’s ‘reported our distinguished air pilot’s set out to lend a hand at findin’ poor Buddy Warner,’ who, the story goes, ‘used to be a blanket pal o’ Lindbergh’s away back in them balmy days when Charles jumped with his little chute at county fairs an’ did the barn-stormin’ racket. Not that he wouldn’t be on the job if on’y he didn’t happen to be away off around New York right now, up to his eyes in business connected with the new air line he’s at the head of. Course lots o’ good folks’ll swallow this story without a question but it’s jest a sample o’ wild newspaper stuff – no man c’n be on the Atlantic coast an’ out here in the Rockies at the same time. Gosh! but they do pull the wool over some people’s eyes these days – anything for a sensation an’ to get the jump over the other cub reporters.”
“But Perk, we do happen to know that there are quite a number of noted pilots out scouring the entire region and sticking to their job like leeches, under their sporting slogan ‘do as you’d be done by’.”
“Sure thing, partner – that’s legitimate news and not faked,” agreed the other with a grunt as he speared a small boiled onion of which he was very fond, and thrust it into his mouth. “Lindbergh is a wonder, as we all know, but there’s a limit to his