THE WIND-UP--CONCLUSION
They found it easy enough to get up speed with the assistance of the
current, and then take off, when a clear streak of water was reached.
Rising to a fair ceiling Jack headed south, and the night flight was on.
He let Perk take over the controls before a great while, while once
again he studied his charts, well marked from previous searchings. So
went the long hours, with numerous turnings as the humor urged; for they
were now only killing time, and waiting for the dawn to come.
No sooner was it light than Jack again settled down at the stick, with
the ship headed toward his intended goal. He had good reason to believe
his information to be correct, and that before many hours they would be
able to cash in on the prospect, kill the efficiency of the outlaw radio
station to do further injury, and bring the operations of the great
smuggler league to a wind-up, which was all the Government asked of him.
Nine o'clock in the morning found them on the coast, and approaching a
certain wild district where no man was supposed to have his
habitation--even the shanties of the Spring fishermen were conspicuous
by their absence--the place was so lonely, so isolated, so storm-swept,
that the bravest of coast dwellers did not have the nerve to carry on
their daily avocation along the line of fishing, or wild-fowl shooting,
amidst such desolate surroundings.
All of which had made it an ideal spot for an unregistered radio base;
and Jack believed his hunch was a true one when he decided he would find
the end of his trail where he was now heading.
A little distance back of the beach, beyond the scrub and dead grass,
there had for many years been known to exist a strange looking object,
almost falling in ruins now; but which at one time had been a well built
tower, more or less fashioned after the type of a coast lighthouse,
since it had winding stairs within, and a room at the top, from which a
wonderful view of the sea could be obtained.
Jack knew the brief history of that queer tower--how it had been built
long years back by a retired sea captain, whose heart was still faithful
to his beloved salt-water; and who, desirous of dying within the sound
of the breakers had spent almost his last dollar in having this peculiar
tower erected, strong enough with its rocky walls to defy the elements
that usually played such rough pranks along this particular stretch of
shore.
Some people of a romantic turn of mind even said the old captain had
lost his wife and daughter in a wreck close by that very part of the
coast, which fact had been mainly instrumental in his carrying out his
queer conceit. After all, he had really died there, being found lifeless
by a party of shipwrecked men who chanced to reach land at that place,
and anticipated being fed and warmed by some genial light keeper, only
to discover but a dead man there. A nephew had seen to his burial,
stripped the "observatory" of everything of value, and forsook all else.
Now the tower was a near-ruin, and in danger of toppling when some
unusually severe gale swept the water over the sand ridge, and against
the "castle" wall.
When Perk glimpsed the object of their solicitude far away Jack brought
his ship down on the beach, and taxied back to where he had reason to
believe it would be safe from the highest tide.
Then they set out to stalk their intended prey, keeping far enough back
so as to avoid being detected by any trained eyes from the room in the
top of the dead sea captain's lone tower.
By noon they had gained enough distance to be able to keep watch on the
tower through means of Perk's glasses. They soon discovered signs of
life about the place, which fact gratified them greatly; surely no
rational human being would ever take up his abode in that ramshackle
affair unless he had some unusually important reason for so doing, such
was its inaccessibility, and lonesome condition, there being not even
duck shooting available, while the fishing must be equally _non est_.
By one o'clock they were able to figure that there were just two men in
the tower, which reckoning allowed the formation of a concrete plan of
action.
It appeared that just one of these fellows was on duty at a time, the
other apparently being free to wander off, if the notion struck him.
Possibly, too, most of their work came along after night had set in,
since business picked up at that hour.
"The next time either one steps out to take a little saunter I'll follow
in a roundabout way, and nab him when he isn't dreaming of danger. After
I've stopped him from giving the alarm, and putting his mate on guard
I'll give a signal for you lads to swing around and approach the
junk-shop by keeping hidden behind that sand hill. Once I get my foot on
the steps leading up inside the tower it'll be all over but the
shouting. Soak that in, both of you boys?"
Which they said they would; and so Jack a little later on, crept off,
exercising great care as he picked up his duty to keep hidden from those
lookout windows at the summit of the said tower.
He managed to take up a position where it was most likely the walker
would pass close by, and there he stood, sheltered from view. The chap
was amazingly stunned to have something thrust him in the back, and to
hear a stern voice say:
"Not a single word or you're a dead man! We've got the tower surrounded,
even if you don't see my men; and the game is played out. You're under
arrest for sending out illegal radio calls that are in the interest of
coast smugglers and other criminal parties. Silence now, or I'll crack
you over the head."
It was almost what Perk would call a "picnic," things fell into their
hands so easily. Having bound and gagged his prisoner Jack made his way
back to a point close to the leaning tower, when he gave the promised
signal; and was speedily joined by his two mates.
After that they all three went cautiously up the winding stairs, and
suddenly took the remaining radio man by surprise, by covering him with
three guns, and cowing him in the bargain. Realizing that the game was
queered he did not dare take desperate chances by putting up any
resistance; simply grinning, and holding out his hands for Jack to slip
the bracelets over his wrists.
"Now," explained Jack, "the only thing we want to do is to take some of
this stuff along to prove we've demolished the offending radio-sending
station; after which it's up to Uncle Sam to see that this scotched
snake doesn't show its head again along the same lines--we will have
finished our job in first-class shape, and can take up something else,
for to be sure there's work aplenty for us Secret Service lads."
Before this was carried out Jack secured a fine picture of the old
leaning Coast Tower, as well as its interior, showing the radio sending
outfit just as they found it. This being accomplished as positive
evidence that could not be successfully disputed, they put aside such
material as could be readily transported in the cabin of their
amphibian, and then sent the racketty tower high up in the air, to fall
in fragments on the beach.
After that all of them boarded the ship, and they set out for
Charleston, to drop Jethro--who would sooner or later hear from the two
chums, as well as receive a fat reward for the part he had taken in
rounding up the smuggler gang, and putting that mischievous radio out of
the running--also turning over the two prisoners to the care of Mr.
Herriott, as representative of the legal branch of the Government. What
became of them Jack and Perk neither knew nor cared, as other equally
thrilling happenings soon came along to occupy their time and attention,
to the exclusion of matters that were now "has-beens," hull down in the
past.
They first of all turned over that admirable amphibian, the remodeled
Curtiss cabin twin-motored ship, to the authorities; and when they left
Charleston it was aboard their own familiar plane, the big Fokker. In
some succeeding volume it may be taken for granted we shall again meet
those two interesting aerial Soldiers of Fortune, Jack Ralston and Perk,
doing their perilous stunts in some other field of adventure, the
narration of whose exploits may form the basis of the next book in this
_Sky Detective Series_.
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's Flying the Coast Skyways, by Ambrose Newcomb