
Trackers of the Fog Pack; Or, Jack Ralston Flying Blind
With the coming of such an insidious enemy their danger increased ten-fold, since by degrees it would add enough weight to the already heavily laden ship as to force it down all too speedily, with what hidden perils lying in wait below as only a lively imagination could vision.
Still that question remained unanswered – try as he might Perk seemed unable to successfully grapple with so puzzling and knotty a problem – if not a mail pilot off his course, nor yet some enemy trying to overtake, and run them down in midair, then who could it be?
With Perk bewildered the matter must inevitably settle down to one well practiced means for finding the answer to the enigma – “ask Jack – he knows” – a formula as simple as anything could be, also shifting all responsibility to other shoulders.
Perk went at it again, and asked for light.
“Mebbe naow, partner,” he called out, “it might be yeou guessed this crazy flier up yonder was some madcap pilot atryin’ to beat the record goin’ east from coast to coast; or else a locoed lad carryin’ a passenger who’d lose his hull fortune if so be he didn’t land in Wall Street inside so many hours.”
Jack laughed, as though amused at these vague stabs – he knew what the other had in his mind by going on in this fashion.
“Just fishing again, eh, Perk – want to know what I think covering the game, isn’t that so? Well, listen, and I’ll put a flea in your ear.”
“Go to it, partner – I’m agreeable, an’ wantin’ to be informed,” Perk hastened to say.
“Among those documents I examined there was one fact I laid some stress on, which consisted of a statement that the Secret Service man who sent his report in, and then seemed to disappear utterly from the knowledge of all men, declared it to be his opinion these hideout big guns in the criminal world, working under our old friend Slippery Slim Garrabrant, had some sort of an airship, with which they were doing a rattling good business – perhaps you slipped up on that particular fact; but I figured we might run across that plane, sooner or later, and have considerable bother with the same.”
“Hot-diggetty-dig! then Jack, you mean it could a been that crate we heard abeatin’ time on aour tail; an’ mebbe chasin’ us like hot beans – tell me, is that what hits you so hard, matey?”
“I have a pretty strong idea it was their ship, covering a well-known course from the coast to this valley in the rocky unknown territory too rough even to have been explored, as it was believed to be worthless for even mining purposes. As to whether those aboard were trying to strike us in the fog, that’s still a mystery, and must remain such for the present.”
“Then do yeou guess they knowed we was ahead on the same track, eh, Jack, ole hoss?”
“Remember Perk, that as far as we know they didn’t change their ceiling at any time – just kept booming away at the same level. That being the case they couldn’t have heard the sound of our own motor working, as their exhaust would deafen them completely; for we only caught the racket behind us when we were shooting the shoot, with our engine shut-off.”
“Good enough for us, buddy – then we got a clear field ahead, an’ c’n foller aour own plans right along.”
“For the time being; but don’t forget we’ve got rough sledding ahead. It all depends on how long we’ll be held fast in the grip of this accursed fog pack. Running blind isn’t a very satisfactory way of getting along, especially when you only know the country through rude charts that may be all right, and then again sprinkled with errors that are bound to be full of danger to us.”
“Hit an’ miss, Jack, we’re used to takin’ the chances – it’s all a part o’ the followin’ we’re rappin’ in. We jest got to do aour best, an’ leave the rest – aint I been adoin’ that same mighty near all my whole life? an’ seems like little ole Perk he’s still on deck, able to eat his three good meals a day – whenever he c’n git the same.”
“It’s after midnight, Perk.”
“So it be, partner; an’ we muster gone a good many hundred miles since jumpin’ off – strikes me we orter be clost to the goal we had in aour minds; if so be we been keepin’ on a di-reck course, with no wabblin’ to check us aout.”
“I figure that way myself,” replied Jack; “but nothing can be done to make certain until conditions change for the better.”
“Which would mean we got some hours to kill, ’fore mornin’ comes along to give us a show fur aour money, eh, Jack, ole boy?”
“There’s only one way to do that,” snapped the other; “which is by circling around, keeping our altitude, and within a range of say fifty miles; and that’s what I’m aiming to start doing right now.”
CHAPTER XII
When the Dawn Broke
When Jack thus decided it good policy to start riding that gigantic circle, reducing their speed at the same time, he knew it was really the only course left to them in order to kill time, until there arose a change in weather conditions, and the coming of daylight.
It would require the utmost skill and vigilance combined, thus to keep going over about the same line of travel, with naught to depend upon save his reliable instruments, aided by the deductions he must be continually making, with his eyes on the compass, the speed indicator, altimeter, and kindred apparatus by means of which, in conjunction, a clever pilot may cut circles around an objective at will.
All this when he has daylight to assist him, and can see the distant ground beneath; but when blinded by both fog and intense darkness it is “a horse of another color” entirely, and if successfully carried out may be considered on a par with a near-miracle.
“He c’n do it, if anybody’s able,” faithful Perk was assuring himself, as he sat and watched the other go through with motion after motion, doubtless mentally figuring up knotty little problems in arithmetic that would either prove the accuracy of his general plan of campaign, or cause him to correct any faulty upsets.
“Gee whiz! if on’y we could a climbed on that gink’s tail, an’ follered him to where he was agoin’, what a soft snap it’d been,” Perk was telling himself, as he imagined them climbing back to the level followed by the “mystery ship,” and keeping on at just a certain distance, where their presence would not be betrayed by the commotion they caused; “but it’s a hull lot too late neow to think o’ tryin’ that ere stunt aout; so what’s the use figgerin’ any more? ’Sides, they aint no chanct for even a pilot what knows his beans ’raound this pesky country, to drop daown, so long’s this soup hangs over aour heads, under aour feet, an’ plays the devil with things gen’rally. Jack’s got it all laid aout, an’ we’re on aour way to Pike’s Peak – er bust – mebbe so its jest plain bust!”
As the time drew on Perk found himself engaged in a peculiar game of guessing as to what the character of the ground below would turn out to be when they were given a blessed chance to view the same by the dispersal of the fog, and the coming of broad daylight.
He knew what it meant to be hovering over mountainous country, where all manner of weird canyons and dry water courses could be traced on the rough landscape – secluded haunt of the Rocky Mountain sheep, or big-horn; the savage silver-tip bear known also as the grizzly, most dreaded wild beast of the entire Americas, the claws of whom the Indians of the West always prized as mementos of their individual valor, when slain at close quarters, with the warrior living to tell the story of his triumph.
Then, too, he could imagine vast herds of the now almost extinct buffalo, seeking shelter and grazing during the winter in some sheltered valley among these same mountain ranges, where green grass might be found in abundance even during blizzard weather conditions.
Once he gave full play to his fertile imagination, and Perk would even forget the passage of time; and this was just as well, since nothing he could do would alter their situation in the slightest degree; besides, it prevented him from worrying, as he so often did.
Along about three o’clock – as he knew by consulting his wrist watch for the twentieth time since their start – Perk had another little bright thought – what was to hinder them from having a nice snack, just to kill time, and cause them to feel stronger for whatever might come along later on?
Accordingly he got out a certain small packet which he knew contained some sandwiches he had paid their waiter to have made up for them, as a souvenir of the much esteemed little restaurant in San Diego, city of the Dons.
Sitting there, and still keeping an observing eye first on Jack, and then sweeping it around the array of instruments fastened to the black dashboard in front of the working pilot, Perk enjoyed his little nightly repast as only a fellow with his splendid appetite might.
When he nudged Jack in the side, and offered him a tempting ham sandwich the other shook his head in the negative, as though he was quite too busy to take advantage of the offer.
Following this up he made gestures which Perk interpreting understood him to signify he might alter his mind later on, when the conditions had changed a bit for the better. That was just like Jack – he liked to eat, it was true, when hungry; but never allowed a mutinous stomach to cause him to take the slightest chance of neglecting his duty.
So Perk had to dine all by himself; but he generously kept one fair-sized sandwich for the time when his chum would feel like having a few bites; which might not be until he wished Perk to take his place at the controls.
It was a dreary round they were making now – like keeping time in the awkward squad in the training camp – going through all the motions without advancing the spark an atom – round and round in that big circle, as the hours dragged along on leaden feet, with Perk growing fairly wild to end it all, even by accepting unusual risks.
Five o’clock came at last, and Perk more than once strained his eyes in staring hard toward the east, hoping to be able to glimpse a faint sign of approaching dawn – just a peep that would make him feel better; but thus far all in vain.
Nor was he able to detect any let-up in the floating sea of murky fog – it hung about them most persistently, almost dense enough to be felt; indeed most of the time their faces were wet despite the fact that they were shut up in the closed cabin of their ship.
“Ev’rything must have an end,” Perk told himself about this time; “an’ I kinder guess naow that ole snap sayin’ must be so; anyway, here’s hopin’ afore long naow I’ll be squintin’ at the sun apeepin’ above the rim o’ the world over yonder in the – yeah, it’s east, okay, the compass she tells it. Gettin’ sorter sleepy in the bargain; but shucks! nothin’ doin’ ’long that ere line till we’re outen the woods, an’ on ground safe’n sound agin.”
Half-past five brought a little but welcome change in the monotonous situation. Perk was duly thrilled to discover what he believed to be a dim gleam of light piercing the shrouded east, which he fondly hoped was caused by the near approach of the early dawn.
He did not mention the welcome news to his ally, fearing lest it prove to be a mere stretch of that wonderful imagination of his, such as in times past had so frequently played him the saddest of tricks – no, it would really be wiser for him to bide his time, and make sure he was not turning out to be what he would call a “false alarm.”
Despite his eager wish the faint light did not appear to increase to any extent; although Perk knew it must surely be about time for the dawn to break, if it ever meant to dispel the miserable pall of wet fog that had been like a blanket during the whole night – saving the hour or so they spent on the way before it gathered around them.
“If the tarnation thing gives me the merry ha! ha! neow, after I’ve shook hands with myself, I’ll feel like jumpin’ off, and tryin’ aout my ’chute, that aint been aired for many a blue moon. But it stands to reason there must be some sorter end to ev’ry night; an’ I’ll hold on a bit longer. Gosh amighty! what wouldn’t I give to feel jest a whiff o’ wind caressin’ my cheek when I pokes my nose outadoors – but no sech good fortune – we’re still in the soup for keeps, Jack ’nd me, wuss luck!”
Still it seemed as though his heart was set on seeing that dim line grow wider, and bringing with it fresh hopes of a change in the dull programme; judging from the way Perk continued to stare toward where he knew from the compass lay the eastern heavens.
Jack flew on, apparently quite oblivious to the wild yearnings that kept gnawing at the heart of his comrade. Thus far he had reason to believe they had continued on that circle, where fifty miles of running would fetch them back again to about where they had started to make a ring. He would fight it out on that line if it kept them going all the next day; but until they could see the ground, so as to find their bearings from certain landmarks expressly emphasized in the rude chart inherited from the missing brother of the Service, it was utterly useless to expect to get anywhere.
Some little time afterwards Perk, thinking to find out whether there could be a “whiff of fresh air” stirring outside, thrust his head from the partly open door, and sniffed eagerly.
The result was highly satisfactory, for he instantly discovered a most delightful thing – there was not only the fresh cold air to be expected at such a high altitude, possibly ten thousand feet at the time; but, in addition there came across his feverish face the sensation of a genuine breeze, blowing, as he quickly found out, directly from the south.
He could not resist keeping his head protruding, so as to make assurance doubly certain; and while thus engaged he chanced to turn and look toward the east again.
Something caught his eyes, and held him riveted, as if turned into a pillar of salt like Lot’s unfortunate, disobedient wife.
“Hot-diggetty-dig! if that ere aint the mornin’ star I’ll eat my hat!” Perk told himself in great excitement.
It was most thrilling news he carried back with him when he ducked inside the cabin once more – news he felt absolutely positive would break down that icy reserve of his companion; and cause Jack to join him in giving vent to expressions of jubilation.
“Hey! c’n yeou beat it, partner?” he cried, as soon as he could get to the ear of his boon companion; and for the time being disdaining the help of the ear-phones; then he paused for breath, having in his excitement lost his grip, it appeared.
“Beat what?” roared the other, understanding from Perk’s actions, together with the exultant tone of his raised voice, that something out of the common must have come about.
“Breeze started up!” whooped Perk, gulping in a supply of wind.
“Bully boy!” Jack sent back at him, managing to make himself understood above all the racket of motor and propeller, which was some triumph, since he did not possess the lung power that Perk boasted.
“And – yeou c’n see the ole mornin’ star off in the east, showin’ the dratted fog pack she’s a liftin’ by hunks; so, as the dawn’s at hand we’ll be okay!”
CHAPTER XIII
All Thanks to Simeon
“Bully again!” Perk faintly heard his cool pal call out, against the row their motor exhaust was keeping up.
There was considerable excitement in camp just about that time, although to be sure Perk was showing most of the same.
The fog was in retreat after all those tantalizing hours of holding the fort – there could no longer be any doubt concerning this fact. He could even see how it was being blown off toward the north by increasing puffs of agitated air; and meanwhile that line of pearly hue in the east was widening by spasms, until faint touches of rosy light painted the skyline as with the brush of a magician artist.
Perk had adjusted their useful ear-phones, for he felt confident they would want to exchange congratulations, in that the long and tedious night had finally come to an end, with what promised to become a “dandy” day opening up before them.
Jack laughed to himself when he actually caught his relieved brother pilot humming a fragment of a little popular love-song they had been hearing several times of late in the “talkies” they patronized when in old San Diego; and which evidently had been echoing in Perk’s brain ever since; though if accused of “getting soft” the other would most certainly have indignantly denied the fact, and vowed he had never had a best girl – or any species of girl – in his whole natural life.
So things continued to brighten more and more, with Perk straining his vision from time to time in order to be the first to discover “land ahead,” – in other words sight the far-distant earth below them.
It came at last, after he had thus stared as much as half a dozen times; and he had the proud satisfaction of informing his comrade of the interesting fact. There was a vein of triumph in Perk’s voice; one would easily think he must be a modern Columbus announcing the discovery of a new world; and yet it had only been one solitary night since last they were in touch with their old friend terra firma– solid ground.
Just the same that had proven to be such a memorable night, so filled with thrills, and accumulated anxieties, so gloomy in the midst of the greatest fog pack in history, that really Perk might be excused for showing undue jubilation over this, their ultimate deliverance.
“Hully gee! partner!” he called out suddenly; “I kin see it, that’s right; an’ say, she sure does look good to me.”
“Meaning the earth, I reckon, eh, Perk?”
“Nawthin’ less, buddy – fog’s a climbin’ aout like hot cakes – soon wont be a single wisp left, I take it. But gee! what a pictur’ it makes – never did set my lamps on sech turrible stuff afore – looks like Ole Nature had busted loose in tryin’ to pile up rocks as big as skyscrapers in little Ole New York, some o’ ’em as big as the highest hill in the Catskills. What a place – what a place, I’d say agin.”
“Does look a bit rough,” admitted the noncommittal Jack, after himself taking a swift survey.
“A bit rough – huh! yeou jest can’t ekal it if yeou trips all over this Rocky Mountain country fur weeks, that’s a fact, Jack Ralston. Seems like we was abeatin’ the record right along on this here jaunt – the thickest fog – the longest night – an’ neow the beatenist country ever! If it keeps agoin’ like that we’re bound to run up against the wust gang o’ holdup men that was ever heard of.”
“Had that idea in my mind from the start, so it isn’t going to surprise me much if it comes true,” Jack calmly informed him.
About this time Perk discovered that the last retreating phalanx of the late fog belt had passed from his sight, dissolving in thin air as it seemed. The early morning, as viewed from that great altitude, was most charming indeed, with those fleecy white cloudlets all around them.
The speeding plane ducked in and out of the groups as though playing the old childrens’ game of tag, or else hide-and-seek. Perk himself likened the picture to the gridiron, being especially fond of football games as practiced along the Coastal Slope around Thanksgiving time, and later on, when the East was battling with its chilly blizzards – in imagination he could readily picture their ship to be the man who had the pigskin bag held tightly under his arm, and kept darting this way and that, eluding the outstretched hands of would-be tacklers, and dodging all interference, on his wild dash to make a much needed goal.
It gave him a delightful thrill to thus compare their passage with the one hero whom he most admired – the prodigy to whom his favorite college was indebted for their greatest victory, when defeat had seemed so perilously near.
“Take over the stick, Perk; I reckon I’d feel better if I stretched my arms and legs a bit,” the wearied pilot now announced; to which the other only too gladly acquiesced; for many times during the last few hours he had hung over his mate, as if trying to influence Jack to change places.
“Yeah, an’ Jack, while yeou’re ’bout it jest sample the grub – coffee’s fine an’ dandy, as well’s steamin’ hot. Goes through yeou like ’lectricity in this cold atmosphere.”
“After I’ve had a good look through the glasses, to see if there’s any sign of the targets Brother Simeon marked down on his rough pigeon carrier chart we’re depending on to see us through.”
That was just like Jack – duty always before pleasure. His empty stomach – the lovely view Perk had been drinking in so eagerly – all such trivial matters must wait until he had attended to much more important ones.
Perk might have expected to hear him say what he did, since from long experience he was fully acquainted with his pal’s methods of carrying out his business calls. Perk also knew quite well that he could never claim to be such a Spartan, since the “fleshpots of Egypt” usually tempted him to take precedence, when it became a matter of choice between them.
Long and earnestly did Jack examine the ground below. He had given Perk instructions to make several long dips, each time flattening out again on a level keel; and during all this time he was engaged in staring through the magical lens that brought far distant objects so close he could even distinguish the character of the bark on such trees as came under his observation.
At such times as they were moving on the level Perk managed to also scan the scene below them. They had by now greatly reduced their distance from the rugged landscape, being not more than something like five thousand feet aloft; but stare as he might Perk, even with his keen vision, was unable to discover a single moving object – it was as if they owned the whole world for the time being – a weird sensation that rather awed imaginative Perk.
About this time the one at the controls saw his companion keeping the glasses focussed on a certain point, as though he might have discovered something encouraging there – possibly an upstanding object such as had been noted on that invaluable if crude penciled map.
“Hot-diggetty-dig!” Perk muttered to himself, as he felt his pulses quicken once more, “don’t I jest hope he’s struck ile – run acrost some piled-up crags that might a served Simeon as a good marker. But great snakes! heow air we agoin’ to drop daown anywhere when there aint nary a sign o’ level ground as big as my red neckerchief; an’ us a wantin’ a stretch a hundred feet, long – as much more as we kin find?”
So he tried to keep still while waiting to hear anything of interest Jack might have to report. Most certainly the other must have made some sort of discovery, or believed he had at least; for he continued to scrutinize that particular section of the rocky ground just ahead in a way that looked promising to his anxious partner.
Finally Jack lowered the binoculars, with Perk watching his face as if hoping to read good news reflected there.
“No doubt about it, I’m glad to tell you, Perk,” Jack was saying; and if there was a trifling vein of relief in his voice one could hardly wonder at such a thing, after their just passing such a wretched night, and flying blind through the long hours, with but faint prospects of striking their goal when the coming of dawn allowed of an observation.
“Hey! does that mean yeou got a squint o’ somethin’ worth while, partner?” cried Perk, solicitously.
“Just what it does,” the other assured him. “Swing around in a circle, and I’ll let you have a look for yourself, buddy.”
CHAPTER XIV
Closing the Gap
Accordingly Perk swung off to the left, and banked sharply, thus starting on a turn that if pursued long enough would once more fetch them to the point from whence they had started the maneuver.
“Now I’ll take hold again for a time, until you’ve had your look,” announced Jack, suiting the action to the word.
While his mate manipulated the glasses Jack coached him word by word, until Perk finally uttered a cry of triumph.
“I got it, partner, sure I have!” he was saying in great gladness. “Can’t hardly b’lieve my eyes, it sure seems like a reg’lar miracle – to think o’ all we plugged through, an’ was able to hit straight to the bullseye o’ aour target – it dazes me to strike sech a wonderful happenin’, that’s right.”
“Then you recognize it from the brief description he gave on the side of his tissue-paper chart, do you, Perk?”