Trackers of the Fog Pack; Or, Jack Ralston Flying Blind. Newcomb Ambrose

going, as though getting ready to be vastly entertained by what was in prospect; he always looked as though at peace with the whole world, even counting those who defied the law to keep them from doing whatever they pleased, however it might turn out for other people – such was the beneficial effects of tobacco on his system, for there were times when he could never be supremely happy until he got his pipe going full blast.

      “Naow fur it, partner;” he opened up with, “I’m settled, an’ ready to imbibe the hull kittin’ story, with nawthin’ bein’ held back, like yeou promised me.”

      “I’m meaning to read the letter to you first, and then later on you can pore over it yourself, making a mental photograph of the contents, so that every sentence can be recalled from memory upon occasion.”

      This was the way Jack generally arranged things, for he knew just how to work so as to get Perk fully interested; and accustomed to the programme the other had never been known to take exception to Jack’s methods.

      “I get yeou, partner,” was Perk’s comment; “it’s part o’ aour reg’lar programme to learn the big points o’ aour job, so we aint agoin’ to be rattled when we come to settle daown to work.”

      “Now fix your mind on what I’m going to read, and forget everything else but the one business we’re being given to carry through.”

      Accordingly Jack commenced, with Perk occasionally asking some pertinent question, which was cheerfully answered by the reader.

      “Now,” observed Jack later on, “we’ve covered much that the Chief has had taken down by his stenographer; but the windup of the whole matter is the heart of the story; you want to hold your breath while I read it out to you, because, unless I miss my guess, you’re in for the biggest shock of your life.”

      “Hot-diggetty-dig! that sounds right ser’us, partner, she shore do; but I’ll stiffen aout, grip the sides o’ my chair, an’ gulp it all in like a thirsty broncho would fresh water after comin’ in from the sandy desert. Hit ’er up!”

      “Listen then to what he writes here,” Jack was saying, soberly, yet keeping an eye on Perk’s tell-tale face, which he never could wholly control: “‘The enclosed suggestions are clippings, and reports from some of our agents who had started out to track this ugly gang to its secret hideout. Taken collectively and individually they will convince you as to the character of many of the knotty problems you will have to solve before success can be your reward in smashing this new King Cole mob of law breakers, cattle thieves, bank robbers, and what-not along the line of up-to-date crime.

      “‘So you will understand the magnitude of this business when I tell you it is not only suspected, but fully believed, this so-called King Cole is an old offender, sailing under a new name – none other than a clever convict whose escape from the Atlanta penitentiary some months ago has been purposely kept a state secret, in hopes of its being helpful in locating his whereabouts, and bringing him back to his empty cell, with the penalty of having his sentence lengthened on account of his flight – an arrangement that so far has not been in the least profitable or successful.

      “‘You will understand what I mean when I tell you the name of this rascal, whom I remember you and your comrade had the high honor of bringing before the courts, and starting on the road to the Government institution – it is’” – Jack paused to watch Perk’s eager face, and then added with considerable force: “‘it is Slippery Slim Garrabrant!’”

      CHAPTER VI

      Laying Plans

      “Oh! my gosh!”

      So completely staggered did Perk seem to have become at the disclosure made by Jack, that he sat there, incapable of motion, just staring at his companion in the manner of a man who thinks he sees a hobgoblin.

      “Slim – Slim Garrabrant!” he finally mustered up enough breath to almost whisper, looking a bit awed, Jack thought.

      “No other, partner,” his pal assured him, cheerfully. “You know how we were saying that sometimes this old world looked mighty small – well, this happens to be one of those times. Take it as a matter of fact, Perk – one of those quirks that roll around occasionally.”

      “Yeah – sure, that’s right, Jack – jest so – nawthin’ awful strange ’bout him aturnin’ aout to be the lucky dog as skipped aout o’ the pen, giving Uncle Sam the laugh. Go on an’ tell me some more. Kinder looks like we’d got to roll aour hoop up agin that Smart Aleck again, ’fore we get him caged for keeps.”

      “Well, I don’t know about that, matey,” Jack told him, frowning as he spoke; “but if they do get him back alive in his cell they’ll keep closer tabs on Slim, you can wager. But the devil of it is, can he ever be retaken? Both of us have good reason to remember what a big job we had on our hands the other time; which isn’t to be compared with what we’ll stack up against now.”

      Perk had by this time succeeded in getting back his customary self reliance, when he would scoff at such a word as “can’t.” He screwed his face up in what evidently was intended to be a sneer, as he went on to say:

      “Huh! that ere is the last thing to worry me, buddy. Yeou an’ me, guess we make a team not easy to beat. When we git started we’ll jest give that gink a knock fur a goal, an’ clinch the game for keeps. But like as not we orter be makin’ up aour plans, hadn’t we, Jack?”

      “Certainly,” responded the other, calmly; “but first of all let it be distinctly understood in the beginning there’s no need of any undue hurry.”

      “Course not,” agreed Perk, wagging his head in the affirmative, as was his usual habit when Jack was laying down the law.

      “While of course we’ll not loiter on the way,” continued the head man of the combination; “just the same we must not do anything that’s going to interfere with our customary efficiency – no going off at half-cock, like a gun that’s in need of lock repairs.”

      Perk chuckled as if highly edified.

      “Say, partner,” he hastened to remark, “not much danger o’ sech a thing happenin’ with yeou runnin’ the lead, I give yeou my affidavy on that same.”

      “That’s all blarney, Perk; and don’t depend on my being free from stumbling in the dark – I’m only human, and can make silly mistakes, like every known pilot – even Lindbergh’s had the misfortune to smash his landing gear when making an ascent, and with the girl he afterwards married, remember.”

      “Sure thing, Jack, but didn’t he manage a wonderful landin’, an’ keep from a bad smashup, on’y hurtin’ his shoulder in the jam?”

      “Yes, and Perk, some people attribute his escape to good luck; but I know full well it was his skill in understanding just what to do in an emergency.”

      “Well, what’s aour programme agoin’ to be?” demanded the other.

      “First of all, then, we’ve got to study those enclosures the Chief sent in his letter – they’ll give us a good many important points, and it may be locate this secret hideout of the crowd that’s bothering Uncle Sam so much. Get that, do you?”

      “I’m on, boss – go to it some more,” replied Perk, blithely.

      “As we shall be scouring one of the wildest and most dreaded parts of the whole Rockies,” continued Jack, “of course it’ll be necessary for us to carry a big cargo of stuff along – plenty of supplies in the line of grub, as well as gas and oil. Then, since we are bound to line up, sooner or later, against the whole gang, we must tote tear-bombs, and some of the destructive ones, such as we’ve been forced to make use of before.”

      “Sounds okay to me, ole hoss,” Perk assented, looking particularly well pleased at the possibility of wild action, which these preliminary remarks of his leader seemed to presage – doubtless his wonderful memory carried him back to the previous occasion when they went out after Slim Garrabrant, and dragged him before the bar of justice, a feat which earned them the commendation of the Big Chief, as well as a nice step upwards in