The Sky Detectives; Or, How Jack Ralston Got His Man. Newcomb Ambrose

often been an object of vast respect on the part of some welter weight boxer, and insisted that Jack accept a gentle shake.

      “We’re sure Fortune’s favorites,” Perk was saying, striking an attitude as he thus proudly spoke; “an’ with such luck hoverin’ over our heads I vow all the Lower Regions with its devils can’t prevail against us. But see here, old hoss, there’s more than chance in this break o’ the party who broke through Scotty’s door, and panned all his traps – I guess now he must have missed a cylinder, an’ jest passed us by in a ground loop.”

      Jack was accustomed to the other’s quaint way of expressing himself, for he lost no time in adding:

      “About that way, I take it, Perk. And if what we suspect turns out to be true, it stands to reason there’s some sort of big combine back of it all.”

      “With this same Slippery Slim Garrabrant pulling the wires for the whole bunch, is that what you mean, Jack?” demanded the other flyer quickly; for when once set on the right track Perk’s mind could travel speedily enough.

      “It’s certainly his brain that’s built up this wide flim-flam trade in the make believe green stuff that’s been fooling a whole lot of bank tellers, it’s so near the genuine article. To smash the combine we’ve got to check up on Slim; after he’s caged the entire arrangement’s bound to fall through.”

      “I get you, partner; and them’s my sentiments every time,” admitted the eager Perk. “And here, when we’re starting out to pull off our fresh stunt, I’m wishing all the luck that’s going to our little game. Meaning to give her a last checking over, eh, Jack?”

      “It’s a habit of mine, as you know, Perk; and you might amuse yourself stowing the cargo we’ve taken aboard, so’s to let us have room for our feet when we take off. From the looks of the junk you picked up anybody’d reckon we planned to go into camp for a week or two.”

      “Well, mebbe that’s what’ll happen to us before we strike pay dirt in this ticklish job,” asserted Perk, stoutly. “You know we figgered things out, and made up our minds this same slick article of a Slim might have his hangout over the line in Old Mexico, where he prints his bad bills, and then comes across the line with a big bunch in his ship, so’s to scatter the stuff around to his agents in Texas and Arizona, or it might be all through Southern California. If that guess turns out to be a bullseye we might be away off the line of travel for days at a stretch, and a grub stake’d turn the trick okay, I’m thinking, boss.”

      Jack made no reply, for he was already busily engaged in looking over his crate. This was, as he had mentioned, an old habit, contracted in the early days of his career as an aviator of sorts; and most likely such extreme caution had saved his life more than once.

      As he too worked close by, Perk was thinking more or less about something that had caught his ever watchful eye just before they entered the hangar to make these last preparations for their southern flight. As usual he was unable to keep his speculations entirely to himself, since he always liked to compare notes, and find out whether his companion’s views coincided with his own.

      “Say, Jack, did you happen to notice that Ryan ship they’d just taken out of the shed before ours?” he demanded, while still lifting packages of various supplies, and stowing them away in a shipshape fashion; so they would not be likely to shift, and thus imperil the safety of himself and comrade, should they chance to encounter rough weather later on.

      “Not particularly,” came the answer. “I was too busy over my own affairs to bother with anything that didn’t concern me in the least. What of it, Perk?”

      “Nothing much, old hoss, only it was a next to new bus, and hadn’t been flown more’n a few thousand air miles, I’d guess. Couple of fellers seemed to be the crew, one of ’em lookin’ like he might be a pilot; and the other a chap that was out to have a jolly good time sportin’ for sport. I saw him handlin’ some sort of gun, which made me guess he was down South for the shootin’ season – mebbe after bear in the Louisiana canebrakes.”

      Jack laughed as if amused, for he had noted the way in which the other made this stab at what might be the designs of the unknown parties.

      “Feel a bit envious I take it, Perk,” he observed, laconically. “Always did yearn for the day to come when you’d have a ship of your own, and could spend all your spare time jumping about the country, enjoying yourself with rod and gun. Cheer up, old sport, you may live to see that day yet, if things break right for us in a few big games like this one we’re running down.”

      “Thanks for your good luck wishes, Jack,” the other was saying; “I c’n just picture the bully times that pair’ll like enough have sitting by their camp-fire, living on game they’ve knocked over, and not caring a darn whether school keeps or not. Oh! well, if I live long enough mebbe I may have a whiff of that kind of life before I kick off for keeps; they say everything comes to the man who waits, and that’s me. There, that finishes my job, with everything stowed away as slick as you please. When you’re ready, Jack, we’ll be on our way.”

      CHAPTER III

      HEADED SOUTH

      Apparently Jack had completed his task about the same time, for he was adjusting his ’chute harness, without which he seldom made a long distance flight. This was only second nature to him, because of the long experience he had had in barnstorming, and doing stunts for a living in years gone by.

      This accomplished, he stepped outside the hangar, and beckoned to a couple of ground workers who chanced to be close by, possibly in anticipation of their services being required, with a tip in prospect.

      Between them the ship was moved to the open, and after that it would be a simple thing for Jack to taxi across the strip of ground adjoining the big Pitcairn hangar, so as to face such wind as was stirring.

      With what Perk had said concerning the new Ryan monoplane and its crew still fresh in his mind, Jack did give a brief glance in that quarter. He could only see that both men were fully equipped with dungarees, helmets, and even chutes fastened to their backs; which combination was an effectual disguise, since their best friends might have failed to recognize either of them offhand.

      The one who was garbed in what seemed to be fresh clean overalls, and who must be the employer, seemed to feel a mild interest in their movements, for he was looking that way through his goggles, that had been pulled down as if in preparation for some species of flight. The other was busying himself adjusting something, and from his greasy dungarees it was evident he must be the working pilot of the Ryan craft.

      With all the bustle that was going on covering the stunt flying and speed races, Jack did not bother taking a second look; he failed to have the same interest in the possible sporting excursion of the unknown pair that had gripped Perk and hence failed to let the matter occupy any more of his limited time.

      They were soon both settled down in their respective places in the double cockpit of the ship, Jack of course occupying the front seat, since he had been placed in command, with the other acting as co-pilot and observer.

      It was a very decent crate taken in all, that had been secured for their work on this special occasion, for Uncle Sam is never stingy in supplying his agents of the Secret Service with whatever they need, from means for swift travel to the customary “grub” necessary to their upkeep when “on the road.” These air detectives in whom we are particularly interested just now, as a rule were angling for big fish, and it was absolutely necessary they should be given a free hand when making their demands for proper backing.

      “Well, it’s goodbye to Candler Field for us right now,” remarked Perk, as he shot a general look around, being more or less interested in the exciting events being pulled off in the air circus. “Playtime’s past, and now we’ve just got to put in our best licks along the line of business. Huh! seems like them two guys are meaning to pull out right on our heels, from the lively way that greasy lad is jumping around – keeps an eye on us in the bargain, as if it mattered a lick whether we did get going before he was ready to follow suit. Some folks never do like anybody to show ’em their dust, even when it don’t matter a pinch.”

      Just