THE GRIM PURSUER
As the minutes crept along Perk’s uneasiness commenced to make itself
more manifest, finally reaching such a condition that he felt it would
ease his mind if only he could get the opinion of his companion on the
subject.
To do this it would be necessary that they should make use of the head
earphones that had been taken along for this particular purpose.
Accordingly he quickly adjusted his own, and then proceeded to advise
Jack as to what he wished to do. Since these useful adjuncts of the
pilot’s outfit were so arranged that they could be slipped on and off
with little loss of time, it was an easy matter for Perk to apply them,
after which he went on to speak.
“Jack, seems like that pesky little Ryan insect’s been tailing us right
along, though mebbe now you didn’t notice it.”
“I know it, Perk—fact is I proved that fact to my own satisfaction, for
twice now I’ve changed our course, once into the west, and again heading
into the southwest, even if it didn’t catch your attention.”
“You did that same; and say, what happened, Jack?”
“Not a blessed thing,” came the immediate answer.
“They still hung on our tail, do you mean, old hoss?”
“Seems like they did—queer how two pilots, strangers both, would take a
notion to change their course, not once but twice running,” commented
Jack in his non-committal fashion that always had Perk guessing.
“Strikes me as something more than a happy chance,” asserted Perk,
beginning to throw off that comfortable feeling with which he had
wrapped himself as he contemplated a steady going night run, with never
a reason for anything gripping them by way of excitement; “ev’ry little
movement of that Ryan two-seater’s got a meanin’ of its own. Now what
ails the ducks I want to know—how c’n our movements have a mite to do
with what they’re planning to carry out—got any idea along them lines,
old hoss?”
“Nothing definite as yet,” answered Jack; “I was starting to figure it
out just when you barged in, and opened this talk fest up with your
question.”
“Jack, come to think of it, what did you make out of that stiff yarn
Scotty put over on us a while ago?”
“It was raw stuff for a fact; but I don’t question anything he told us,
remember, Perk.”
“Whoever his mysterious visitor was he must have been hunting for
something, that’s dead sure!” declared Perk.
“Yes.”
“Something he didn’t find, either,” continued Jack’s assistant pilot.
“Scotty was ready to swear to that fact, and he ought to know.” Jack
countered by saying:
“But see here, old hoss, you’ve got some sorter idea what the game might
abeen, haven’t you for a fact?”
“I reckon I know why the sneak thief failed to carry away the thing he
was looking for, if that’s what you mean, Perk.”
“As what, boss—I’m all worked up wantin’ to know.”
“Perhaps the reason might have been because the object of his search
happened at that very time to be safe and snug in the inside pocket of
this same coat I’m wearing under my overalls.”
At hearing this startling announcement Perk gave a quick look into his
pal’s face, there being just enough light remaining in the western sky
to allow this searching glance.
“Glory be! now I’m beginning to get somewhere, and ready to quit this
gropin’ around, like a man in a London fog—that letter you had this
very morning from Headquarters—somehow ’r other some of the gang had
wind of your gettin’ it, and they guessed it’d be kept safe under lock
and key in your room at the hotel; and then they got balled up about the
number on the door, so they broke into the wrong room. Jack, am I on the
right track?”
“Seems that’s so, according to my notion, Perk; unless I miss my guess
that’s the way things stand.”
A disgusted grunt from Perk told that he did not feel very happy over
certain facts in the case.
“Gosh-a-mighty!” he burst out, explosively, “if that’s right, then the
tricky crowd know you’n me are on this case—that even right now we’re
starting out to pluck their tail feathers, and fetch that master-crook
to the bar!”
“Oh! I expected that would happen,” said Jack, indifferently. “Having
been told by several of the best men in the service that Slim was the
smartest all-round dopester known in all the land, I anticipated that
he’d have means for finding out that fact long ago—that there might be
a leak around Headquarters; for spies can worm in almost anywhere, given
an opportunity, and the backing of a big bunch of jack.”
“Yet that fact don’t seem to rattle you worth a red cent, old hoss,”
continued the puzzled Perk, who ofttimes found the actions of his cool
partner a mystery he could not solve, because of his own more impetuous
ways.
“I hope not,” was all Jack said in reply.
“Thunder and lightning!” ejaculated the co-pilot, as if an illuminating
idea had suddenly flashed through his brain—“that Ryan bus, Jack!”
“Well, what of it?” demanded the one at the stick.
“What if that sporty guy I told you about should turn out to be the
critter who broke into Scotty’s room, and made it a complete wreck?”
“It could happen that way, Perk; seems like you’re working on a warm
scent right now. Pity we didn’t get a good look at the gentleman before
he hid his face behind that helmet and goggles; then at least we’d know
him if ever we happened to run across his trail.”
The other was almost frothing at the mouth through disgust and anger
combined; but he managed to say, with a select few hard words
interlarded as a vent to his outraged feelings:
“Give me half a chance and I’ll mark him so there’s be no difficulty in
locating the sneak when we meet him again—I’d put a bit of lead through
his arm that’d keep him out of the scrap for a week of Sundays; or else
clip off one of his ears, to stamp him as a low-down crook.”
Jack knew full well that this was no idle threat on the part of his
running mate; for Perk had a reputation as a pistol shot second to none
in the entire service, being a natural born marksman.
He lapsed into a spell of silence after making that vicious remark; but
from the way he glanced back again and again it looked as though Perk
meant to keep close tabs on the craft that was dogging their own ship so
steadily.
They were roaring on their way, and it would seem as if they must be
showing a clean pair of heels to anything in their rear; but just the
same, Perk, with the vision of an air-minded individual, could readily
understand how the speedy Ryan plane was slowly but insidiously picking
up on them continuously.
“Blamed nuisance,” he was muttering to himself when this important fact
became a positive truth; “guess now that rip-snorter could make circles
round us, if so be he wanted to. Shucks! what’s left to us I want to
know; an’ just what does he ’spect to accomplish with all this chasin’
us? Might as well get out my little old six-shot bear gun, so’s to be
ready in case there’s any sort o’ ruction aheadin’ our way.”
The idea seemed to afford him a strange sort of grim satisfaction, for
bending down he ran his hand under the coaming of the cockpit; to almost
immediately withdraw a very decent looking sporting repeating rifle,
evidently his working tool whenever he felt disposed to spend a week in
the wilds, either alone, or with some boon companions also yearning for
wild game and the much desired campfire.
“Hold tight, Perk,” Jack was saying just then; “going into a nose dive,
and see if that will upset his calculations; for he’s got me buffaloed
all right as to what’s in the wind!”
Almost immediately they turned the nose of their craft earthward, and
went down on a swift slant. Perk kept his head turned even as this
maneuvre was being executed, and what he saw was something calculated to
almost take his breath away; for where the pursuing Ryan ship loomed up
as a shadowy form, vivid splashes, as of fire, were coming in quick
succession—he could even imagine he heard the pulsating staccato
reports following each other in succession, just as in those
never-to-be-forgotten days when he would have a covey of devil-may-care
German air fighters stepping on the tail of his old-fashioned boat, and
peppering him from their rapid-firing guns!