Eagles of the Sky: or, With Jack Ralston Along the Air Lanes

Once they found themselves on their way at a three thousand-foot ceiling and headed almost due northwest with Tampa as their goal, Perk slapped his pal on the back and gave vent to his high spirits.

“Oh how joyful it does seem, partner,” he was saying, “to be startin’ on the home stretch with our game played to a finish, the ducks bagged an’ nigh ready for the spit. Somethin’ to crow about this time, I guess boy. Mebbe the Big Boss up at Washington ain’t goin’ to be tickled pink when he gets the news an’ knows we’ve grabbed Oswald by the heels with evidence aplenty to send him to Atlanta for a term o’ years. This night flight promises to be the happiest ever for the pair o’ us. I know I’m actin’ like a loon, partner, but I jest can’t help it–such bully occasions are too few an’ far between in our line. An’ now I wonder where we’ll be sent for the next big job we tackle?”

“We’ll know all that soon enough Perk,” he was told by his comrade. “We deserve a little rest after this business is cleaned up, then we’ll be ready to start out fresh and dandy, no matter if it takes us to the Wild West this time.”

“Huh! why not?” grunted Perk with the air of one who was utterly indifferent as to whether he was given a mission that would take him to the other side of the world, as long as he had at his side the pal whom he loved so well and the backing of the Government to stand for expenses.

“We’ve worked the Mexican border to the limit, have jest cleaned up the worst smugglin’ bunch along the Florida coast an’ when the call comes for us to take a fling over the Colorado canyon, or above the snow capped mountain ranges, it’ll find us ready an’ all to the good!”

Although at the time Perk had not the slightest idea that he was posing as a prophet, it will be seen that such was the case as the title of the next story in this series will indicate, it being “Wings Over the Rockies; or Jack Ralston’s New Cloud-Chaser.”