PERK HOLDS THE FORT
First of all Perk set about getting the one boat that had been left
aboard the smuggler sloop into the water as he would need it for
conveying his green material with which he intended to cover the exposed
deck.
There was little trouble about accomplishing that and when he dropped
into the rowboat with a pair of excellent oars in his possession, he
felt considerably encouraged.
So he started to poke around, hoping to run across some island that was
more than a mere patch of the omnipresent mangrove tangle. This he
succeeded in doing without much loss of time and his pleasure redoubled
at finding a mass of dwarf saw palmetto that would yield him a plentiful
supply of fronds with their queer serrated edges such as would stab
cruelly unless one took care to handle them properly.
Here, too, were some young palmetto trees with the new leaves within
easy reach. Working with a vim Perk speedily loaded his small boat with
green stuff, after which he returned to the sloop and proceeded to
scatter his material to the best advantage all over any exposed part of
the contraband vessel.
It necessitated a second trip before he felt satisfied for whatever his
shortcomings might be in other respects, Perk always tried to fulfill
his whole duty whenever he tackled a job.
By the time he had finished he was "reeking wet" as he called it, with
"honest-to-goodness sweat," not perspiration, but it was worth all it
cost to be able to feel that the sharpest vision on the part of a sky
pilot passing over the spot, and even equipped with powerful binoculars,
would not be able to detect the presence of the sequestered runaway
sloop.
"Good enough," he told himself, as he lay down to rest a bit and scan
the blue heavens so as to learn whether there was any sign of a cloud
chaser from horizon to horizon where the clumps of mangroves allowed him
a clear vision.
Several times he gave a little start, and proceeded to strain his eyes
so as to make doubly sure, but in every instance the moving dot he had
noted far away to the north or nor'east proved to be a circling buzzard,
keeping up his eternal weaving to and fro in search of a belated
breakfast after his own peculiar kind.
So the time passed, and Perk even dozed, lying there amidst his "Palm
Sunday greens," as he fancifully called the camouflage stuff, for the
climbing sun kept getting warmer, and induced somnolence, especially
after such an eventful night as the one he and Jack had just passed.
Later in the morning he sat up, took another cautious look around at the
clear sky, and then proceeded to enjoy a good, old-fashioned smoke, for
Perk was a lover of his under-slung pipe _a la Dawes_.
Noon found him thus, picturing his chum arriving at Tampa and
interviewing the Government official who could give him what assistance
he required so as to turn over the captured sloop and the contraband it
carried, both above and below decks.
At one time Perk out of curiosity--as well as a desire to be in a
condition to state the amount of spoils he and Jack had "corraled" in
their swoop upon the fighting smugglers and hijackers--took a pad of
paper and a pencil and proceeded to go over the entire vessel, securing
a rough invoice of the numerous piled-up cases bearing that foreign,
burnt brand.
Then a temptation gripped him, and, as he took another "eyeful" sweep of
the azure arch overhead, to again find the coast clear, he tortured
himself with the vision of a pot of boiling coffee to go with his
otherwise dry midday snack of lunch.
"Huh! no use talkin', I jest _can't_ stand it any longer--got to
have my coffee if I want to keep happy as a clam at high tide. Nothin'
to prevent me paddlin' across once more to where I got these here
greens. I noticed heaps an' heaps o' dry wood, broken branches, stems o'
palmetto leaves an' such dandy trash for a quick fire. Might as well
tote the machine-gun along, so's to be ready for anything that comes--it
could be a frisky twelve-foot 'gator wantin' to climb me or mebbe one o'
them sly painters I been told they got down in this queer old country.
Anyway, here you go, Perk, coffee pot an' all."
He was soon busily engaged in building his little fire, hoping no
hostile eyes might detect the trailing smoke ascending above the tops of
that palmetto clump. Then came the pleasing task of watching his coffee
pot as it stood on the tilting firewood, a job that required constant
vigilance if he hoped to save its precious contents from spilling.
Presently the odor began to fill him with delight and later on he found
himself sitting cross-legged, like a Turk, and swallowing gulp after
gulp of the amber fluid he loved so well.
Taken altogether it proved to be as satisfactory a little lunch as Perk
had partaken of in some time. After finishing the entire contents of his
coffee pot, he concluded it would be just as well for him to clean up,
destroying all signs of the fire, and return to the sloop.
He had good reason to shake hands with himself because of this
exhibition of caution, for later on, as the afternoon began to lengthen,
with the sun starting down toward the western horizon, he suddenly began
to catch faint sounds such as sent a sudden thrill through his whole
nervous system.
"Dang it if I ain't hearin' somethin' right like human voices," he told
himself, cocking up his head the better to listen, and applying a cupped
hand to his right ear. "Yep, that's a fact, an' over in that quarter to
boot," nodding toward the northeast where his instinct told him the
mainland must lie, even if some miles distant.
So, too, he decided later that the suspicious sounds kept growing
louder, from which fact he judged the speakers were slowly but surely
approaching his hiding place.
"All right, let 'em come along," Perk muttered grimly as he clutched
that deadly little hand machine-gun with which he could pour a rain of
missiles in a comparatively speedy passage of time. "They can't ditch
me, I kinder guess, an' nobody ain't agoin' to grab this crate if I have
to shoot up the hull mob o' galoots."
Nevertheless, since there was always a fair chance that the secreted
sloop might escape discovery, Perk finally concluded to dispose of his
own person, at the same time meaning to keep in readiness to give the
intruders a hot reception, did the occasion warrant such a course.
Then he could hear what he knew to be the splash of oars, and squeaking
sounds of the row-locks. But he had already discounted this fact,
knowing as he did the impossibility of anyone ever reaching the fringe
of that vast wilderness of mangrove islands in which many a fisherman
had been lost, never to find his way out of the myriad of zigzag
channels without the possession of some manner of boat.
On they came until finally Perk realized they were just around the
corner, for he could pick up every word that was uttered as well as see
specks of foam from the working oars as it carried past, the tide being
on the ebb just then.
"Told yuh it was a steamer runnin' past thet sent up yer smoke trail,
Zeb," a harsh jeering voice was saying, accompanying the words with a
string of oaths as though he felt more or less "mad" because of the
exertion necessitated in working at the oars so long and on a bootless
errand at that.
"Wall," came another drawling voice in which keen disappointment could
be detected. "I judged it shore lay in this direction, but like yuh
says, it must'a ben a steamer out yonder on the gulf--mebbe thet rev'nue
boat they done tole us to watch out fur er else some o' them spongers
frum up Tarpon Springs way. Anyhow, I got all I wants o' exercise so I
move weuns call hit a day an' get back to the shanty."
"Yas, thet's the best thing we kin do," agreed the other, with a snarl
in his heavy voice, "we got heaps o' work ahead tonight, if so be thet
Fritz airpilot does drop over with his batch o' yeller boys like weuns
been told he'd do. I'd like tuh see the whole caboodle o' Chinks dropped
inter the middle o' the gulf, I hate 'em so, but thar's good money in
the game, we happens tuh know, Zeb, which I jest caint hold back on
nowhow. Les go!"
Greatly to the relief of the listening Perk he heard the sound of
splashing gradually recede until finally it died away completely. This
gave him a feeling bordering on relief, for while Perk was an old hand
at the fighting game and stood ready to give a good account of his
ability to defend their prize; at the same time he had no violent desire
to open up on the two occupants of the unseen rowboat nor yet was the
idea of the sloop being discovered at all to his taste.
"Lucky lads you might count yourselves if on'y you knew how I was layin'
right here in ambush, ready to sink that boat an' make the biggest sort
o' a splash. An' I'm guessin' I got off right smart 'bout that cookin'
fire racket, come to think of it--might a'spilled the beans all right,
and made all sort o' trouble for our crowd."
Talking in this fashion to himself, Perk again set about taking things
comfortably nor did he ever hear of that pair again. Still, he treasured
up in his mind what he had heard the man with the harsh voice say in
connection with the smuggling of unwelcome Chinese immigrants who were
ready to pay so well for an opportunity to beat the Government
regulations in their eagerness to join the foreign colony in Mott
Street, New York City, where the vast majority of them were bound. It
would naturally interest Jack when he heard the news, although it could
hardly be considered startling, since they already knew full well this
sort of thing was being carried on by daring airplane pilots in the
service of the far-flung smuggling combine.
By now it was well past the middle of the afternoon. Light fleecy, white
clouds had been drifting up from the direction of the Dry Tortugas and
Key West but this far they did not look at all portentous, as though any
kind of a storm might be brewing. Perk hoped that would not turn out to
be the case since they had work planned for a part of the coming night,
which would be greatly hampered by unsettled weather.
Then, on making one of his habitual observations of the upper air, he
discovered a moving speck that he soon decided must be a plane heading
in his direction. At first Perk fancied it must be Jack on his way back,
but later on he realized the air craft bore a great resemblance to the
Curtiss-Robin boat which they had figured belonged to the Hun pilot,
Oscar Gleeb.