Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.com
AVIATION
EAGLES OF THE SKY
OR
With Jack Ralston Along the Air Lanes
BY
AMBROSE NEWCOMB
Author of "The Sky Detectives," etc., etc.
Published by
THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING CO.
CHICAGO
Eagles of the Sky
Copyright 1930
The Goldsmith Publishing Co.
Made in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
I Ready for Business 13
II The Curtiss-Robin Plane 26
III Like a Night Owl on the Wing 35
IV The Dance of the Fireflies 42
V A Battle Royal 51
VI The Tear-Bomb Attack 58
VII A White Elephant on Their Hands 67
VIII The Spoils of Victory 74
IX Engineer Perk on Deck 83
X Tampa Bound 90
XI Perk Holds the Fort 99
XII Old Enemies Face to Face 108
XIII When Greek Met Greek 115
XIV The Coast Guard Men 124
XV With the Coming of the Moon 131
XVI The Lockheed-Vega Flying Ship 140
XVII Okechobee, the Mystery Lake 147
XVIII The Master Crook 154
XIX The Scent Grows Warmer 161
XX Denizens of a Florida Swamp 168
XXI The Mysterious Coquina Shack 175
XXII The Man of Many Faces 182
XXIII A Pugnacious Rattler 189
XXIV On Hands and Knees 196
XXV Perk Demands More Water 203
XXVI The Fight at the Well 211
XXVII At Bay 218
XXVIII The Come-Back 225
XXIX A Last Resort 232
XXX Fetching in Their Man 239
EAGLES OF THE SKY
CHAPTER I
READY FOR BUSINESS
When the "Big Boss" at Secret Service Headquarters in Washington sent
Jack Ralston and his pal, Gabe Perkiser, to Florida with orders to comb
the entire Gulf Coast from the Ten Thousand Islands as far north as
Pensacola and break up the defiant league of smugglers, great and small,
that had for so long been playing a game of hide-and-seek with the Coast
Guard revenue officers, the task thus assigned was particularly to the
liking of those two bold and dependable sky detectives.
They loved nothing better than _action_--never felt entirely happy
unless matching their wits against those of skulking law breakers--while
to sup with danger, and run across all manner of thrilling
adventures--that was a daily yearning with them.
Since so much of their work must of necessity take them over that vast
stretch of salt water lying between the Florida coast and the far
distant Mexican shore line, the wise men in Washington had supplied Jack
with a speedy plane of the amphibian type, capable of making landings
either on shore or in any of the numerous inlets dotting the coast, it
being equipped with both aluminum pontoons and adjustable wheels.
Jack had spent several days at the Capital, conferring with various high
officials, being thus put in possession of every available scrap of
reliable information at the disposal of the Department.
He had also been given documents of authority, calling upon each and
every Government agent in all Florida to afford him any possible
assistance, should he require such backing while learning the identity
of the "higher-up" capitalists guilty of financing the secret clique
that had been giving the revenue men such trouble recently.
The fact was well known that besides the valuable _caches_ of unset
diamonds, and other precious stones, coming surreptitiously into the
country without yielding the customary heavy duty imposed on them, there
was also being smuggled into the innumerable lonely bayous and inlets of
the lengthy coast line vast quantities of contraband in violation of the
eighteenth amendment, also batches of undesirable aliens like Chinese,
anarchists and Bolsheviks, such riffraff as Uncle Sam had been holding
off under a strict ban.
So, too, it was understood that besides the fleet of swift, small
power-boats employed night after night in this profitable game of
mocking the Treasury Department, latterly the smugglers had been
freighting their cargoes by means of airplanes that would be able to
land the contraband stuff in lonely places far back of the low coast
sections.
It was therefore a monumental task, covering a wide field of operation
and with constant peril hovering over the heads of the two adventurous
aviators who had undertaken so joyously to spread the net and draw its
meshes about the offenders.
Their preparations having been completed, they were waiting in an
isolated little bayou surrounded by inaccessible swamps and mangrove
islands ready to take off with the coming of the friendly shades of
night.
To those who enjoyed reading the preceding volume of this series of
aviation adventures, where Jack and "Perk," in order to get their
man--one of the boldest and most successful counterfeiters known in the
annals of crime--found it necessary to fly across the Mexican boundary
line and snatch their victim out of an extinct volcano crater that had
once been the fort of the fierce Yaqui Indian tribe,[1] will think it a
rather far cry for the Sky Detectives to be detailed to active duty some
thousands of miles distant, and in the extreme southeastern corner of
the republic.
So it always must be with the famous Secret Service men--their motto,
like that of our present day Boy Scouts, is "Be Prepared"; for day and
night they must hold themselves in readiness to start to the other side
of the world if necessary--China, Japan, India, the Philippines
perhaps--detailed to fetch back some notorious malefactor wanted by
Uncle Sam, and information of whose presence in distant lands has
reached Headquarters.
As a rule it was Perk's duty to see that their flying ship was well
stocked with all necessary supplies, from liquid fuel and lubricating
oil down to such food stores as they would require, even if forced to
remain for days, or a week, without connections along the line of
groceries and commissary stuff.
Perk himself was an odd mixture of New England and Canuck blood, one
branch of his family living in Maine, while the other resided across the
border. Hence Perk sometimes chose to call himself a Yankee; and yet for
a period of several years he had been a valued member of the
Northwestern Mounted Police, doing all manner of desperate stunts up in
the cold regions of Canada.
He was considerably older than his gifted chum and had seen pretty hot
service flying in France while with Pershing's army in the Argonne. It
was his knowledge of aviation in general that had caused Jack to pick
him as his assistant when the Government decided to fight fire with
fire, by pitting their own pilots and aircraft against those employed by
the powerful combine of smuggling aces.
Sometimes it chanced that Jack, for good and sufficient reasons of his
own, did not fully explain the necessity for making plans along certain
lines.
This was not because he lacked confidence in his loquacious chum's
ability to keep a still tongue in his head or exercise due caution, but
usually through a desire to make doubly sure of his own ground before
submitting the arrangement to Perk's sharp criticism, which Jack valued
even more than the other suspected.
Consequently Perk, with the Yankee half of his blood stirred by an ever
present curiosity, wanted to know and invariably asked numerous
questions in the endeavor to find a leading clue.
It was in the late Fall and already the advance guard of the winter
tourist crowds had begun to arrive from the North, in ever increasing
numbers, all set for an enjoyable winter in the sunny resorts of both
coasts.
Jack had already made quite a thorough investigation and picked up some
important clues that he meant to run down in hopes one of them might
lead to definite results.
The amphibian floated on the surface of the isolated bayou with glimpses
of the open gulf toward the golden west forming an alluring picture as
seen between the jaws of sand points, with palmettoes guarding the
entrance to the sheltered nook.
It was just sunset, and inside another hour the night would have
advanced far enough to permit their departure on the first leg of their
intended flight up the coast.
Perk was exceedingly fond of his pipe and choice tobacco, and looked the
picture of contentment as he squatted in his seat, scratching his ankle,
where a burning sensation told him he had once again been visited by the
tiny but venomous red-bug pest which he hated with all his heart.
"Drat the little beggars," he was muttering as he kept on digging at his
leg, "they sure do beat anything I ever run acrost in all my wanderin's.
It ain't so bad to be slappin' at pesky skeeters, 'cause I'm used to
sich bloodsuckers; but sandflies, and' jiggers, an' redbugs make a
combination that'd be hard to beat."
"Try that kerosene again, brother," advised Jack, who somehow seemed to
be a favored one, since he was immune from similar attacks, and greatly
envied on that account by his unlucky; pal.
"Yeah!" growled the usually good tempered Perk, "I've rubbed that on,
an' witch hazel, an' all sorts o' lotions till I guess now I smell like
a stick-pot set out, with old rags smoulderin' to keep the skeets away.
Salt water helps a mite, but this scratchin' which I just can't let up
on to save my life, makes things worse right along."
Thereupon he kicked off his shoes, removed his socks, and thrust both
feet over the side to dabble them in the saline water of the lagoon.
"Keep an eye out for that big 'gator we scared off the bank a while
back," warned Jack, wickedly, "he might think it was a wild duck
splashing, and try to pot it for his supper."
"Huh! mebbe now that's about the only way to get relief--let him snap
the foot off an' it won't itch me any more."
Nevertheless, despite this reckless assertion Perk quickly ceased his
splashing and resumed his footgear, heroically refraining from rubbing
the affected parts. After a short interval of staring at the glowing
heavens, as if the sight fairly fascinated him, Perk again spoke, this
time finding something of more importance than insect bites to talk
about.
"Wall," he drawled in his customary slow fashion, "here's hopin' we
ain't agoin' to be knocked out in our calculations tonight, but get a
line on what the boys are doin' up the coast, eh, partner?"
"Won't be our fault if we don't," said Jack, who doubtless recognized
from the signs that his mate had something in his mind, which he meant
to spring on him by cautious insinuations and half questions.
"A right decent crate that was we saw pass over early this morning I'd
say, old hoss," continued Perk, nodding his head as if to punctuate his
remarks and also to cause his thoughts to flow more smoothly. "I had a
good peep at it as we lay behind that bunch o' saw palmetto out front,
an' unless I'm away off in my guess, she was a Curtiss-Robin ship--a big
crate in the bargain."
"They need them big in their line of business," Jack went on
significantly. "A full cargo of wet goods is pretty heavy, you know,
Perk."
"You said it, partner," assented the other, grinning amiably and yet
with a shade of Yankee cunning. "An' what's more to the p'int the guy
handlin' the stick was no slouch at his job, b'lieve me. I wonder now
could he have been that Oscar Gleeb we been hearin' so much about since
comin' down here,--got an idea he might abeen, ain't you, Boss?"
"Just as like as not," Jack told him.
"Huh! Some go as far as to say he used to be a Boche pilot in that fuss
across the big water," continued Perk, reflectively, as though certain
memories of the long-ago had awakened in his brain--recollections that
breathed of action, staccato machine-gun fire, exploding shells, and the
terrible odor of gas that had poisoned so many of his former mates.
"Yes, they said there wasn't any doubt about that," Jack asserted.
"After the war was over and he couldn't find work in his home country,
he managed to get to America and has cut quite a figure in flying
circles. I reckon he was tempted by the big money in the smuggling game
to take a job with this combine along the coast and has been fetching
heaps of cargoes ashore from vessels anchored far out on the gulf, or
even across from Bimini or Santa Fe Beach near Havana over in Cuba."
"By jinks!" ejaculated Perk, "that there's the place we learned they was
shippin' Chinks over to Florida from, ain't it Jack, boy?"
"Just what it was," admitted the other. "It seems that this big combine,
made up of rich American sporting men, with a mixture of Cubans and
adventurers from all nations, doubles up in crashing Uncle Sam's coast
gates with aliens, as well as hard stuff in bottles and barrels."
"Me, I'm jest awonderin'?" continued Perk, "whether it could a'happened
that this same Oscar Gleeb an' me ever hit it up and had an air duel
tryin' to strafe each other when flyin' across No-Man's-Land over there.
Kinder like to meet up with him so we could run over our scraps an' see
if one o' us sent t'other down in a blazin' coffin. It'd be funny if it
turned out that way."
"Queer things do happen sometimes," agreed Jack, yawning. "This warm
day's made me feel a bit lazy but as soon as we get a move on all that
will slip away like fog under the morning sun."
"I say, partner, how 'bout that Greek sponger we talked with when we
dropped in at Tarpon Springs t'other day--you kinder s'pected he knew a
heap more about these goin's-on than he wanted us to grab, even if we
was jest s'posed to be Northern tourists, bent on havin' a fishin' spree
later on when big tarpon strike in around Fort Myers--could them
spongers have a hand afetchin' in bottled stuff, or ferryin' Chinks over
from some island halfway point?"
"Some folks seem to think that possible," he was told. "After looking
over the ground, and getting the opinion of a heap of people who ought
to have an intelligent opinion covering the facts known and suspected,
I've come to the conclusion that if ever there was a time when you could
play safe by suspecting everybody you met of having some sort of money
interest in this big game, it's down along the Florida west coast and
like as not over toward Miami just the same. I'm not trusting my secrets
to a living soul, saving a few Government agents to whom I've been
directed by my superiors--and I'm even a bit leery about some of that
bunch."
"Yeah! From this time on seems to me we'd be wise to play a lone hand,
an' not bother about takin' any gyps into our confidence, eh what,
Jack?"
"You never said truer words, my boy," assented the other, smiling as he
noted the look of pleasure flashing across the bronzed face of his pal
at thus having his own opinion confirmed; for Perk valued a few words of
praise from Jack far above any other source.
"Kinder get to thinkin' that Greek sponger--Alexis was his name, if my
memory ain't gimme the bounce--was a bit o' a sharper, an' knew beans in
the bargain from the way them black eyes o' his'n kept watchin' us all
the time we asked questions, just like we'd heard people sayin' queer
things concernin' how easy it was to grab any quantity o' bottled stuff
if on'y you had the ready cash, an' a good eye for winkin'."
"We may know more about Alexis before we're through with this trip," was
all Jack would say concerning the matter. "On my part I'm shaking hands
with myself because we were smart enough to camouflage our ship with
green stuff for that pilot passed over and could have glimpsed our crate
lying half hidden here, and through his glasses--which I understand they
all carry--made out how it didn't match up with any of the aircraft they
use in their business."
"Thanks to you, partner," Perk hastened to confess. "If it all depended
on my poor head I kinder guess I'd a'slipped up right then an' there an'
give the hull scheme away which would a'been a danged shame, an' busted
the game higher'n a kite."
"We make a pretty good team, matey," said Jack. "Sometimes it's you that
goes loco, and threatens to step off your base, and then another time I
feel myself side-slipping and have to lean on you to hold my own. That's
just how it should be with partners--give and take, with never a bleat
if our calculations go wrong."
"It's right nice o' you to talk that way, brother," Perk hastened to
assert, beaming with pride and making out as if tempted to begin
scratching again when Jack reaching around, gently steered his clutching
fingers away from the itching locality, at which Perk heaved a relieved
sigh and nodded his thanks.
"The sky has lost most of that glorious color," mentioned the head
pilot, "and before long now we can be hopping-off. Our first job will be
to swing down the coast and learn if there seems to be anything going on
among the southern islands in this beastly mangrove section where a man
could easy enough lose himself for keeps among the countless water
passages and inlets. See here, what's the matter with you, staring that
way, Perk?"
"Wouldn't that jar you now," snapped the other, "that Robin ship is
headin' back this way; or else some other crate that looks like its
twin!"
[Footnote 1: See "_The Sky Detectives_; or _How Jack Ralston Got
His Man_."]