MARY BROWN FROM THE U. S. A.
Jack and Stew had heard Ted's battle with the jet plane without seeing
it. They had become tremendously excited but were unable to do anything
about it.
Before Ted's adventure began, Jack was just sitting up, rubbing his eyes
sleepily after only three hours of rest. He said:
"Life on this island has become impossible. There are five of those
beasts against us. They have machine guns and plenty of ammunition. We
have automatics with just the slugs that were in their chambers when we
arrived."
"There are the natives," Stew suggested.
"Those Germans and Japs would mow them down like grass," was the quick
reply. "It will be better for the natives if they're never discovered."
"They'll be discovered all right," Stew declared. "You can't hide for
long on this island. It's too small. I'm surprised that those fellows
haven't hunted us down long before this," he added.
"Well, they won't do that just yet." Jack drew in a deep breath of
relief. "There they go, or at least the Germans must be leaving. If they
go we should be able to handle the Japs." He had caught the low whistle
rising into a scream that told of the jet plane's departure.
"If only I could get my hands on that baby!" Jack exclaimed, thinking of
the jet plane. "I'd fly her right to the deck of the old _Black Bee_."
"And get yourself good and shot up by your own pals," Stew laughed.
"There's no mark of identification on that jet plane."
"That's right," Jack admitted. "But she does carry a radio. I'd announce
my arrival."
"Well, you haven't got her yet. You--"
Stew stopped suddenly to listen. Jack cocked his head on one side. Back
of the high-pitched scream of the departing jet plane they could hear
the low roar of an approaching plane of quite another character.
"That's Ted!" Jack exclaimed. "Great Scott! I hope he doesn't meet that
jet plane!"
"Be a swell fight. Ted is really good. I'd like to see that fight."
Stew's eyes shone.
"Yes, Ted is good, all right," Jack admitted. "But something tells me
that jet plane is a natural for fighting. It's got amazing speed.
Besides, I'll bet it's as easy to handle as a bicycle."
Three minutes later they went racing for the rocky beach. The silence of
their island had been torn to bits by the rasping _rat--tat--tat_ of
machine-gun fire. Since it came from the sea they guessed that Ted had
met the jet plane.
"That wasn't Ted's gun," Stew said.
"No, it wasn't." Jack agreed solemnly.
The wind was toward the island. A large cloud hid the battle, but every
sound of it came to them. Jack could picture it all in his mind. Ted's
effort to gain the advantage, the terrible speed of his enemy, the flash
of fire, the dip of wings, the sudden downward plunges and the upward
sweeps in an effort to get on top--all this came to his mind.
With lips parted and hearts pounding, Jack and Stew stood there in
silence, listening. They knew from the thunder and scream of the planes
just what was going on. "It's as if a pilot in a man-made plane were
fighting with one of those prehistoric flying reptiles," Jack murmured
huskily.
"Reptiles all right," was Stew's comment, "but not prehistoric."
Jack held his breath as he heard Ted make his dash for that smaller
cloud. He understood perfectly that Ted was heading for the surface of
the sea when he took his final plunge and sensed, with a deep pang of
regret, that the end of the fight had come.
When once again they heard the short, sharp, rattle of the jet plane's
gun, both Jack and Stew knew that there must still be something left on
the water to shoot at--realized, too, what sort of fighter this jet
plane fellow was, and at once vowed vengeance.
The two boys had stood in silence as the jet plane sailed away. Not a
word was said until the screamer's motor was silenced for a landing on
the island. Then Stew muttered, "The dirty coward!"
Nothing more was said as they walked slowly back to their camp. So
downcast were they that they failed to notice the smell of wood smoke
rising from their fireplace. Nor did they see the figure standing by the
fire until a voice said, "Good morning."
Startled, they looked up to see the slim girl from the native village.
"Your breakfast is served," she said cheerfully, pointing to a wooden
bowl filled with hot fried chicken, a board on which steaming cakes
rested, and a big pot of coffee.
"Well!" said Jack, smiling in spite of his disappointment and grief.
"This really is a fine surprise!"
"Japs," said the girl, picking up the bowl of chicken, "have an
unpleasant habit of ambushing people and shooting them in the back. How
about a little seclusion?"
"Suits me." Jack picked up the tray of cakes. "It's been a long time
since I had fried chicken for breakfast. Let's not be interrupted."
Stew followed them with the coffee as they hiked away.
In a shady, well-hidden spot among the palms, the girl spread broad palm
leaves for a table.
"Now," she laughed. "Make a long arm and help yourselves."
"Where'd you get that expression?" Jack demanded.
"I think," her brown eyes twinkled, "that it was in Kentucky."
"Kentucky?" Jack exclaimed. "Then you--"
"Sure!" she laughed. "You're getting warm now." She pulled wads of palm
fiber from her nostrils and from under her lips. They had been put there
to make her nostrils seem wider and thicker. Then she drew a small
bottle from a pocket in her native belt to rub the brown from the backs
of her hands.
"So you're an American!" Stew exclaimed.
"Just plain Mary Brown from the U. S. A.," she said proudly.
"Great Scott!" Stew exclaimed. "How'd you get here, anyway, and what's
the meaning of the disguise?"
"It's a long story." She hesitated. "I'd tell it to you now, but first,
you tell me if you can, what that shooting was about out there on the
water?"
"That," Jack's face grew tense, "that was a friend of ours named Ted who
tried to rescue us."
"And he was shot down by the Germans in the jet plane?" Mary Brown
asked.
"That's what we think," Jack replied soberly.
"Why don't you try to rescue him?" she asked.
"Probably he's past rescuing. Those fiends shot him up while he was on
the water." Jack's words came slowly. "Besides, we have no boat, no
plane, nothing."
"You forget the native canoes," she said.
"Say! That's right!" Jack exclaimed. "Would the natives help us?"
"They'll do anything I say. Besides, it will be a good thing to put them
to work just now."
"Why?" Jack asked in surprise.
"I'm trying to keep them from knowing there are Japs on the island,"
said Mary. "They hate the Japs worse than snakes. Not long ago a Jap
torpedo boat came across a big canoe loaded with these natives and
killed every one of them, for no reason at all."
"Come on! Hurry!" Stew exclaimed, swallowing half a cup of black coffee.
"Let's get out there and have a look for Ted. He's the best pal we ever
had, and if those fiends got him--" He did not finish, but the others
understood.
By the time they had rounded up three stout canoes manned by husky
natives and made their way around the end of the island, the large
morning clouds had dropped to water level and become rain squalls.
"This is terrible!" Jack groaned. "We'll never find him now."
"You don't know these natives." Mary Brown settled back in the stern.
"They can find any living thing on the sea."
"It will be keen if they find Ted and his plane in this rain," said
Stew. "That way, if his plane is still afloat, we can tow it ashore and
hide it in some cove without being seen by the Japs or the Germans. And
then! Boy! If that plane can be made to fly we'll leave your little old
island, Mary Brown, and we'll take you along!"
"That sounds wonderful to me," she laughed. "I'll become the mascot of
your carrier, or maybe its jinx."
"I'm leaving the island in that jet plane." Jack did not laugh.
"How will you manage it?" Mary asked soberly.
"Don't know yet," Jack admitted. "But you wait! We'll manage it some
way. It just has to be done!"
In a surprisingly short time Mary had her natives in their canoes around
the end of the island and ready to undertake the search.