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

pocket of this same coat I’m wearing under my overalls.”

      At hearing this startling announcement Perk gave a quick look into his pal’s face, there being just enough light remaining in the western sky to allow this searching glance.

      “Glory be! now I’m beginning to get somewhere, and ready to quit this gropin’ around, like a man in a London fog – that letter you had this very morning from Headquarters – somehow ’r other some of the gang had wind of your gettin’ it, and they guessed it’d be kept safe under lock and key in your room at the hotel; and then they got balled up about the number on the door, so they broke into the wrong room. Jack, am I on the right track?”

      “Seems that’s so, according to my notion, Perk; unless I miss my guess that’s the way things stand.”

      A disgusted grunt from Perk told that he did not feel very happy over certain facts in the case.

      “Gosh-a-mighty!” he burst out, explosively, “if that’s right, then the tricky crowd know you’n me are on this case – that even right now we’re starting out to pluck their tail feathers, and fetch that master-crook to the bar!”

      “Oh! I expected that would happen,” said Jack, indifferently. “Having been told by several of the best men in the service that Slim was the smartest all-round dopester known in all the land, I anticipated that he’d have means for finding out that fact long ago – that there might be a leak around Headquarters; for spies can worm in almost anywhere, given an opportunity, and the backing of a big bunch of jack.”

      “Yet that fact don’t seem to rattle you worth a red cent, old hoss,” continued the puzzled Perk, who ofttimes found the actions of his cool partner a mystery he could not solve, because of his own more impetuous ways.

      “I hope not,” was all Jack said in reply.

      “Thunder and lightning!” ejaculated the co-pilot, as if an illuminating idea had suddenly flashed through his brain – “that Ryan bus, Jack!”

      “Well, what of it?” demanded the one at the stick.

      “What if that sporty guy I told you about should turn out to be the critter who broke into Scotty’s room, and made it a complete wreck?”

      “It could happen that way, Perk; seems like you’re working on a warm scent right now. Pity we didn’t get a good look at the gentleman before he hid his face behind that helmet and goggles; then at least we’d know him if ever we happened to run across his trail.”

      The other was almost frothing at the mouth through disgust and anger combined; but he managed to say, with a select few hard words interlarded as a vent to his outraged feelings:

      “Give me half a chance and I’ll mark him so there’s be no difficulty in locating the sneak when we meet him again – I’d put a bit of lead through his arm that’d keep him out of the scrap for a week of Sundays; or else clip off one of his ears, to stamp him as a low-down crook.”

      Jack knew full well that this was no idle threat on the part of his running mate; for Perk had a reputation as a pistol shot second to none in the entire service, being a natural born marksman.

      He lapsed into a spell of silence after making that vicious remark; but from the way he glanced back again and again it looked as though Perk meant to keep close tabs on the craft that was dogging their own ship so steadily.

      They were roaring on their way, and it would seem as if they must be showing a clean pair of heels to anything in their rear; but just the same, Perk, with the vision of an air-minded individual, could readily understand how the speedy Ryan plane was slowly but insidiously picking up on them continuously.

      “Blamed nuisance,” he was muttering to himself when this important fact became a positive truth; “guess now that rip-snorter could make circles round us, if so be he wanted to. Shucks! what’s left to us I want to know; an’ just what does he ’spect to accomplish with all this chasin’ us? Might as well get out my little old six-shot bear gun, so’s to be ready in case there’s any sort o’ ruction aheadin’ our way.”

      The idea seemed to afford him a strange sort of grim satisfaction, for bending down he ran his hand under the coaming of the cockpit; to almost immediately withdraw a very decent looking sporting repeating rifle, evidently his working tool whenever he felt disposed to spend a week in the wilds, either alone, or with some boon companions also yearning for wild game and the much desired campfire.

      “Hold tight, Perk,” Jack was saying just then; “going into a nose dive, and see if that will upset his calculations; for he’s got me buffaloed all right as to what’s in the wind!”

      Almost immediately they turned the nose of their craft earthward, and went down on a swift slant. Perk kept his head turned even as this maneuvre was being executed, and what he saw was something calculated to almost take his breath away; for where the pursuing Ryan ship loomed up as a shadowy form, vivid splashes, as of fire, were coming in quick succession – he could even imagine he heard the pulsating staccato reports following each other in succession, just as in those never-to-be-forgotten days when he would have a covey of devil-may-care German air fighters stepping on the tail of his old-fashioned boat, and peppering him from their rapid-firing guns!

      CHAPTER V

      THE DUEL IN THE AIR

      The significant flashes abruptly ceased; but Perk realized this was only because the expert pilot handling that same Ryan wasp was also ducking down in an exact copy of their own game.

      For the moment Perk lost sight of the shadowy pursuing craft; then Jack changed his tactics, and once again brought his boat on an even keel. Perk strained his eyesight in an endeavor to pick up the other ship after it too had swung into a direct course.

      “Devil take that guy at the stick,” he stormed to himself, although Jack caught almost every word, since the earphones were still in operation, “he’s seen our move, an’ gone us one better. No slouch o’ a pilot, either, I’ll admit. When that gent who goes by the name o’ Slippery Slim picks his gang he knows how to pull trumps out of the pack all right. Give him another shoot, Jack, old hoss; mebbe he wont be so lucky next time. He’s got some kind o’ a rapid-fire shooter aboard, and had started to send a hail o’ lead ’bout our ears just as you turned the trick on him.”

      Jack was apparently quite willing to give a repeat, for hardly had the other ceased shouting than they again shot down in a dizzy dive that seemed likely to lower their altitude by something like five hundred feet.

      Perk was keeping a close watch, and knew that once more the grim pursuer had copied their daring maneuvre.

      “He’s a good one, or I’ll eat my hat!” he burst out, as they were “cutting a blue streak” once more through the growing darkness, and he could see those suggestive flashes again punctuating the gloom in their track. “Jack, he’s started that racket again, don’t you know; and any second we may get a slug in our belly, bustin’ things all to flinders. Try a razzle-dazzle on the boob, old broncho!”

      So making a bank, Jack changed his course, running at right angles, and if anything at a faster pace than ever. Perk had the situation “sized up to a fraction,” as he himself would have called it; he realized that it was only through the greatest of good luck they had escaped being hit by one of those flying missiles; and that so long as the mysterious enemy kept using their ship for a flying target they were in constant peril. Despite all this ducking and dodging on Jack’s part he did not seem successful in throwing the pursuing craft off the track. To be sure the darkness was gradually growing thicker with every passing minute, and this seemed to be their only hope of crawling out of a “hot hole,” according to Perk’s calculations.

      Perk afterwards frankly admitted that he was frothing at the mouth on account of finding himself up against a situation where the cards seemed stacked against him – where his hands were tied as it were, and that reckless pilot, chasing after them hell-bent, held all the trumps.

      “No use tryin’ that game any longer, Jack, boy!” he yelled suddenly. “See the glim all ’round us, partner – sure as you live they’ve even