Читать книгу Trackers of the Fog Pack; Or, Jack Ralston Flying Blind - Newcomb Ambrose - Страница 7

The following day was a busy one for the two pals. Each had a regular programme to follow, Jack having made out two lists of important things absolutely essential to the carrying out of their plans.

As usually happened he left to Perk the task of seeing that the ship was fully supplied with all the fuel and oil she was capable of carrying off in making an ascent; some of which could be stored in the wings, purposely provided with stowage room for such occasions.

Then when it came to taking aboard a stock of provisions, such as would not require cooking, trust Perk for having a complete understanding as to these requirements – he possessed such a vast knowledge of what was good for a hungry man, not in a position to start a campfire, that when he put the last of their stock away aboard the plane it looked as if they might be getting ready to explore the Arctic regions, where nothing but driftice was to be met, and no chance of having a fire either for cooking or comfort.

Jack, meanwhile did his part, making carefully arranged plans, with alternate makeshifts such as could be taken up in case unsurmountable obstacles baffled them in the one chosen for the start – with Jack it was always part of his strategy to have several “strings to his bow,” and never if possible “put all his eggs in one basket.”

When wearied after all the tramping he had done in accumulating such a vast pile of material, Perk dropped down into a chair alongside his chum – who was still doing the finishing touch to his programme – he heaved a sigh as of contentment – as a rule Perk was not a vigorous walker, preferring to go by airplane, motorcar, or bus; perhaps even by stage if necessary, so that such unusual exercise told heavily on his muscles.

“Get through with your list, partner?” queried Jack, shoving aside his papers, as though he too had had quite enough of work for one day.

“Sure did, matey,” came the satisfied reply; “we’re done loaded up to the limit, an’ then some. Hope the ole gal don’t fight shy o’ liftin’ sech a rummy cargo; but so far we aint never had her balk on us. How yeou gittin’ on with things, Jack?”

“Making good progress,” came the steady answer. “I’ve learned that we’ve shouldered a whopping big job this time; and still things keep cropping up, that make it necessary to go back and change matters some. But I’ll be in fine shape by tomorrow noon, I figure.”

“Kinder reckon on makin’ the jump then, air yeou, boss?” demanded Perk.

Jack shook his head in the negative.

“Better wait up until night-time, buddy,” he explained. “An ounce of prevention’s always a heap better than a pound of cure, you remember. We can slip away a lot easier in the night, as we’ve proven more than a few times in the past. Then besides, we’d like to profit by the latest weather report. If a wide storm threatened it would be good policy to hold back even for several days, rather than get caught in a hard blow; such things are said to be doubly tough amidst the mountain gorges and canyons, with their cranky air currents, and a continual danger of running smack into some high peak.”

“I leaves all that figgerin’ to yeou, as usual, partner; when yeou gives the word, that’s goin’ to be the right time for us to climb, an’ not afore. Golly! but I’m as hungry as seven wolves all in one – hopes as haow they got steak an’ fried onions on the bill o’ fare tonight, ’cause my innards air jest a yellin’ fur a mess o’ my fav’rite chow.”

“I can’t say I’m in the same box, because being shut up for hours, and badgering my poor brain with a hundred puzzling questions, isn’t calculated to make a man ferociously hungry. You had outdoor exercise, and in consequence have built up a glorious appetite. Queer what some fellows will do so as to cater to their thirst or hunger.”

“Naow whatever kin yeou mean by that same remark, Jack, ole boy?”

They were on their way along the street at the time, keeping step as they headed for the restaurant. Jack seemed agreeable so far as explaining, for there was a little yarn back of his words, just as the astute Perk had suspected, knowing his chum as well as he did.

“This story was told to me long years ago, but I never think of it that I don’t get a fresh laugh,” Jack was saying, chuckling as he spoke. “It seems a couple of artists who were fond of trout fishing were up in Maine, stopping at a small hotel, while waiting for their guides to show up.

“They noticed at breakfast several mornings that another party, small and dried up, but a fisherman to the tips of his fingers nevertheless, always ordered salt mackerel for his morning meal. This aroused their curiosity, so one day, after having a good confab with him on the prospect of sport ahead on the trip they had planned to take, one of the pair had the audacity to refer to the singular liking for such a dish evinced by the other. He grinned and looked wise, as he went on to say in reply, not taking the least offense over the matter as a personal one:

“‘Oh! I aint carin’ so much for the fish, gents, an’ gets fed up on the same sometimes; but let me tell you, folks ’long ’bout ten o’clock every mornin’ there comes the most delicious thirst that pays up for my eating them salt fish.’ Think of him punishing himself so regularly, just to create a tremendous yearning for his favorite tipple.”

Perk saw the point, and of course laughed quite vigorously.

“Hot-diggetty-dig! boy, hope I aint jest as bad as that same gent,” he presently gurgled. “I c’n understand heow he felt though, an’ she don’t seem so derned queer to me after all.”

Jack often managed to get off some such yarn when the necessity arose for keeping the talkative Perk from “spilling the beans,” as the latter himself would have explained it – Perk was a rather simple minded fellow, taken in all, but a faithful and sincere chum, a ready worker, and as brave as they make them, even if a bit incautious, often to recklessness in his actions.

It seemed as though there were more people dining that evening in the particular little restaurant than ever before: but Joe had upturned two chairs at their favorite corner table, toward which Jack led the way; so they were assured of comfort, even though late-comers were standing, awaiting their turn.

Both of them always made it a point never to dress in any fashion such as would be apt to give away the fact of their being airmen, or as having some connection with the following of aviators. This was done from a broad policy, founded on the fact that undoubtedly rumors of their calling might long ere this have posted criminal circles; and Jack for one had no fancy about having gunmen dogging his steps, with murder in their hearts, because of the fact that this pair of “birds” had been chiefly instrumental in sending some pal, or brother, to the “big house” for a long stay, or it might be to the chair to atone for his crimes.

Jack always sat so he could look in careless fashion around the room. His manner was that of a social fellow, taking an inventory of the diners, as though wondering if he could single out some crony. There was nothing of the “eagle eye that could look into a man’s very soul, and read his hidden thoughts,” as usually connected with the mystery story, or stage detective – not about Jack, or for that matter Perk either – so far as outward appearances went they were only a couple of goodnatured young men, smiling and agreeable, enjoying their meal, and chatting about the latest stirring events of the day in the field of sports, possibly also interested in political matters, as would be natural.

Perk always declared he felt as though he had put on a mask, when thus debarred from “talking shop,” with curious ears so close by; but he realized the necessity for such extreme caution, when they were always pitted against the desperadoes of the underworld in their daily work.

“Somethin’ o’ a mob here tonight, partner?” suggested Perk, after they had been served by Joe, the waiter, and taken the edge off their appetites; both having settled on the same aromatic dish, which Perk was savagely attacking.

“Looks that way, Perk; if this keeps on we’ll have to find another place to feed, when we strike San Diego again; since neither of us is partial to crowds. Remember the old frontiersman who complained that the neighborhood was getting too thickly settled for him and his folks, because a new family had started to build a log cabin less than seven miles away? People look at what makes a crowd with different viewpoints, we have to remember; what is flesh to one is just poison to another man.”

“Huh! never heard tell o’ that idear ’fore,” confessed the interested Perk; “but it rings like there might be somethin’ in the same. See anybody yeou happens to know ’round here partner?”

“Not one that I would be apt to speak to,” Jack told him; “of course we see some of them each night; but they’ve paid no attention to us, for which we’re only too glad; doesn’t pay to pick up chance acquaintances at haphazard, when you happen to be engaged in a certain type of business. If you reckon you’ve attended to that vacuum downstairs we might as well be moving out, and give some of the standup people a chance at this table.”

“Let’s get goin’ then,” agreed Perk, pushing back his chair; which action caused several groups of impatient waiting persons to start toward the spot, so as to preempt the vacant table.

“Show tonight, Jack?” queried the satisfied Perk, as they moved along.

“I ought to get busy once more on my stuff, as my programme isn’t at all complete; but just the same I don’t want to overdo such brain fatiguing work, and have to lay off a spell – nothing to be gained by such corrupt practices, I imagine. So, since I know you feel as if you’d like to see something, to take your mind off business for one night, decide on where you want to go, and we’ll be off.”

“Course I’m not really dead set on seeing any picture,” apologized Perk; “but chances are we aint agoin’ to have another whiff o’ a screen drama for days and days; an’ it’ll fill in time, as well as freshenin’ up yeour mind more’r less, buddy.”

What they saw and heard does not concern us in following up this, their latest exploit; but evidently Perk fully enjoyed the night’s entertainment, since he seemed to be in a jovial state of mind all the way back to their sleeping quarters.

Their ship was quartered close to a well known aviation field, where air mail was coming and going at all hours of the day and night; as well as privately owned planes of the very latest design, some of them wonderful craft in which daring adventurers could seek out the utmost parts of the earth, backed of course, by an abundance of necessary funds.

They were not known under their real names to any of those who from time to time they chanced to meet and chat with. It was generally understood however, that Jack was the son of a wealthy family in the South – New Orleans to be specific; and had come from Candler Field in Atlanta, with his companion as assistant pilot. Moreover they were believed to be waiting for certain things to transpire, after which they meant to take an extended jaunt down through South America, over the Andes, and the vast wilderness of the Amazon Valley, with its tributaries, engaged in collecting myriads of wonderful orchids, said to have their habitat in that torrid region.

Thus no one had bothered them to any extent – at least not thus far; realizing that the young explorer expressed a dislike about creeping into print, and having his plans broadcast, so that perhaps some rival plant hunter might “slip one over” and beat him to the much prized field.

They came and went, as they pleased in their boat, making sure never to leave the slightest evidence of their true calling lying around, which would be apt to “lift the lid,” and give them away. When Perk that very day was so busily engaged loading up, it was all in line with their pretended objective; entering into the spirit of the great game of “pulling the wool over the eyes” of curious fellow aviators, Perk took delight in concocting an extravagant yarn, depicting some of the possible adventures he anticipated running across down in the countries of South America – Brazil, the Orinoco River forest lands, Peru, Chili and the Argentine – enough to make them envy his good fortune, when tough Luck bound them in fetters along the line of their more prosaic jobs.