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

those heavenly bodies were beginning to look exceedingly hazy.

      “Danged shame, that’s what, to spoil such a dandy night!” he muttered.

      “What ails you now?” demanded Jack, on hearing the other make this little remark that bespoke exasperation at least; “another boat on our tail?”

      “Well, I guess not just now,” replied Perk, scoffingly; “one was more’n enough for a single jump. But we’re agoin’ to run into a pesky fog belt, sure as you’re born, old hoss!”

      “That all?” laughed the other, who apparently saw nothing of particular consequence about such a common happening; “it may perhaps manage to slow us down more or less; but what does that matter, when we’ve got time to burn. The Big Boss told us, remember, not to hurry things at all – plenty of time, oodles of money, and any backing we chose to call for in the way of a new boat, or more helpers. We should worry, old scout!”

      “’Tain’t that in peticular Jack,” complained the other; “but of all things a sky detective’s got to run smack up against, fog’s the one I despise most. It’s got me in bad more’n a few times, so I’ve grown to look on the peasoup stuff like it was my – er, what-dye-call it – Nebraska, no, I mean Nemesis.”

      “Yes, now you mention it, Perk, I remember you telling me something about that strange feeling you have creep over you. No need for you to apologize – in my knocking around among airmen I’ve found that often even the most daring and reckless in the bunch had some kind of a weakness, if only you looked far enough under the surface; just as sometimes you’ll find a boasting bully actually afraid of his little wife at home, who’s smacked him with her handy rolling pin many a time.”

      “Huh! wasn’t I a canvas man ’long with a travelin’ circus a wheen o’ years ago, an’ didn’t I see the biggest elephant in captivity rear up on his hind legs, lift his trunk sky-high in the air, an’ squeal like fun just when a little half grown mouse happened to run along near his alley. Well, I’m the tusker, an’ fog is the mouse, as you might say – we never do get on well as a combine. Hope it hugs the ground, an’ leaves us a clear track up among the clouds I c’n see creepin’ up ahead yonder.”

      “Doesn’t bother me a whit, partner; don’t forget we’ve got that new radio beacon aboard to try out; and if it’s as clever as I’ve heard tell it’ll carry us along our route to Orleans through the thickest nest of fog anybody ever stacked up against. Naturally we can’t expect to get the full benefit of its capacity to hold a speeding plane on its true course; because the invention’s hardly more than half baked up to now; but I set it according to directions, and if at any time we begin to slide off our course the light that springs up is bound to give warning.”

      “A bully good layout I’d say, if it c’n do what they claim,” ventured Perk, who undoubtedly had read certain things concerning the new invention, and was eager to learn just how it would pan out. “You showed a level head, partner, when you decided to take the offer o’ that gent in Atlanta, and try the thing out. Guess, then, I needn’t bother my head ’bout gettin’ astray; if things keep bein’ invented it ain’t goin’ to be very long till a pilot’ll get slapped good an’ hard if he misses runnin’ on a straight line, or even veers from his proper course in a great big blow.”

      “We’re living in a machine age, Perk, and every day things are heading that way on the run – electric helps in kitchen, factory, and even aboard our air cruisers. While the brainwork and strain grow harder the actual manual labor is lessened all the time. But as you say it’s getting a bit hazy, and chances are we’re in for a spell of blue fog.”

      Ten minutes afterwards there could not be the least doubt concerning that fact, for by degrees even the stars vanished from view, ditto the gorgeous round moon. Still, since the sky remained brighter in the east, it was not at all difficult to tell where the fair mistress of the Southern night had hidden her face behind the opaque veil.

      Jack was now flying by instruments alone, since never a thing could be seen by the keenest eye above, below – they seemed to be hung in unlimited space; but pushing along with considerable speed just the same, bound for the distant city on the vast Mississippi, situated not so very far from its delta.

      Thus passed a full hour.

      Suddenly Perk saw a small light spring into view on one side of the plane, and it certainly electrified him considerably.

      “Hi! there, partner, we’re off our track – shifted to the east, seems like, unless I’m away wrong in sizin’ things up ’cordin’ to Hoyle. Got to swing her to the larboard-watch side, I kinder guess – how ’bout that, boss?”

      “You hit it that time, Perk, and here she goes to climb back to our true course. Worked just as we figured it would, and put us wise to a fact we’d hardly have picked up in any other way. I reckon now this same radio beacon’s bound to turn out a great help to the poor badgered air pilot, flying blind when fog hides the ground beacons, and he gets no aid from the heavens above.”

      “I’ll say it’s the best thing I’ve struck for a long time,” affirmed the delighted Perk. “There she goes – the glim I mean – closed shop, havin’ ’complished the business set for her; showing we must have struck our real course again.”

      “Easy money,” laughed Jack, just as well satisfied. “Makes a fellow sit up and try to guess what the next big idea connected with aviation will prove to be; doesn’t seem to be any limit to the dazzling discoveries these scientific chaps’ll turn out.”

      “Just so, partner – like that big chute they’re trying out, which they claim will keep any plane from crashing – if the engine goes dead all you got to do is to press a little button, and when the drop comes open goes the monster umbrella, able to hold you and the crate suspended in the air, to gradually fall to the earth like the colored balls from a bursted skyrocket. Great stunt that, an’ I’m livin’ in hopes it’ll be my luck to some day find myself aboard a ship that’s equipped with such a giant chute, an’ have the glorious experience of seeing the thing work.”

      Jack seemed to consider it the part of wisdom to pull up more or less, as they were in no hurry, and could drop down on the aviation field at New Orleans by dawn, even though they concluded to just “loaf along.” Disliking anything pertaining to fog Perk naturally said nothing to hint at a desire for further speed; besides his own good sense told him that what his mate had just said with regard to no necessity existing for haste, was sound logic, and a due regard for “safety first.”

      So the time slipped away, with midnight finding them past the meridian of their projected flight. Perk had long since subsided and seemed content to sit there in the double cockpit, letting his thoughts roam back to the exciting developments of the earlier night.

      Years had elapsed since last he watched a doomed plane writhing and twisting in its death agonies, with the flames wrapping it in an envelope – a blazing coffin speeding headlong to a final crash; and here, strange to say, after all that time intervening he had again passed through a similar experience. Now that he had an opportunity to calmly review the happening, Perk admitted he was pleased to know the two occupants of the Ryan cockpit had apparently escaped a miserable fate that must have been laid at his door.

      Two A. M. and all’s well!

      Perk figured that when a few more times sixty minutes had passed it would be time for them to catch a first glimpse of the great rolling turgid stream that could, when the heavy rains united with the melting snows up in the mountains of the Far West, create vast floods that placed much of the low country along the river under many feet of water. It had been a long time since last Perk had set eyes on the Mississippi, and hence he was considerably worked up over the prospect of soon glimpsing the mighty flood.

      CHAPTER VIII

      NEW ORLEANS – FIRST STOP

      “There she rolls, Jack, old boy – the greatest stream in the whole U.S.A. – I swan if she don’t look just as fine as when I glimpsed her for the first time many years ago!”

      That was Perk’s tribute on beholding the Lower Mississippi perhaps