Ambrose Newcomb - Flying the Coast Skyways. Jack Ralston's Swift Patrol

Perk would have liked very well to have spent an hour or so at some theatre or other, and had even given a few hints about a screen play at the Paramount but met with no encouragement from his side partner.

“Best for us not to make any sort of an exhibit of ourselves while we’re in close quarters with that write-up newspaper chap,” he told Perk, who, realizing that Jack meant just what he said, allowed the subject to drop.

“Kinder gu – er-reckon as haow yeou’re ’baout right there, ole hoss,” he admitted, with a slight vein of regret in his voice; “course we kin see all the picters we want when we’ve struck the wind-up o’ aour trail – that is, providin’ we’re still alive, an’ kickin’ as usual.”

“That lad has got me guessing, and no mistake,” Jack added; “in one way I admire such persistence, especially in one of his breed, where there’s a big scramble for fresh news stories; but they can make it a whole lot disagreeable for other people in the bargain. Makes me think of the leeches that used to pester us by hanging on in the old swimmin’ hole of my boyhood days – you just couldn’t shake the blood-thirsty varments off, try as you might, they were such stickers.”

Finishing their supper they strolled forth in a leisurely fashion, as if, as Perk himself observed in his quaint way: they had “the whole evening at their disposal, with nothing to do but kill time.”

Picking up a late evening paper on the way to their room at the Henry Grady Hotel they settled down to be as comfortable as possible, until the time arrived to make a start.

“We’ll get a taxi to take us out to Candler Field,” quoth Jack, always arranging his plans with meticulous certainty; “then change to our flying togs, and get going as quietly as possible. It’s to be hoped that sticking plaster wont be nosing around out there, to see some mail ship start off, or come into the airport – you never can tell about such fly-by-nights, who bob up in the most unexpected places just when you don’t want to see them.”

“Huh! yeou said it, partner,” Perk added, whimsically; “jest like I used to see that queer jack-o’-lantern in the country graveyard foggy nights now here, an’ agin over yonder, fur all the world like a ghost huntin’ fur its ’ticular stone to climb under agin.”

Jack, having made himself comfortable, commenced glancing over the paper he had picked up, briefly scanning each page as though skimming the news.

“Haow ’bout the weather reports, buddy?” asked Perk, later on, suppressing a big yawn, as though time was hanging somewhat heavily on his hands, being, as he always proudly declared, “a man of action.”

“Just about the same as a while ago – no change in the predictions having come about,” he told the other.

“Like to be no storm agoin’ to slap us in the teeth, then, eh, what?”

“I don’t see where it could come from, it being clear in almost every direction, saving possible rain in South Florida; so don’t let that bother you in the least, old scout.”

“An’ fog – haow ’bout that same, suh? I opines as haow I sorter detest fog more’n anything I know – ’cept mebbe stones in my cherry pie.”

“No record of any fog over the air-route east,” Jack informed him; “and you know we mean to follow the flash beacons all the way to Greenville, South Carolina, where they turn off in the direction of Richmond, while we shift more to the southeast by south, and head for Charleston. It looks as though we’d have a nice, even flight all the way, and land in our port early tomorrow morning – without trying to make any great speed in the bargain.”

Time passed, and it drew near the hour they had selected for their leaving the hotel. Perk was a bit eager to be going, and began to pack his bag as a gentle hint to his running mate.

“Finish mine while about it, partner,” he was told by his comrade; “while I’m down below settling our joint account, and securing a taxi. I’ll be back in a short while; and then for business.”

“Yeah! that strikes me where I live, buddy. Take yeour time, an’ doant come back atellin’ me that pesky Jimmy’s squatted in the hotel lobby, alookin’ over everybody as goes aout, er comes in.”

Jack was gone as much as ten minutes, and then opened the door quietly, to have the other snatch a quick inquiring look at his face and say:

“Ev’rything lovely, an’ the goose flyin’ high, ole hoss?”

“We’re going to kick off right away; and so far the coast seems clear.”

Once settled down in the taxi Perk felt much better. He had been casting suspicious glances this way and that, eying a number of parties, as though he more than half anticipated the slick newspaper man might be hanging around the Grady in some clever disguise, bent on tracking them to the aviation field.

“Huh! kinder guess – ev’rything’s okay with us naow – glad Jack didn’t hear me asayin’ that forbidden word, er he’d be kickin’ agin. Tarnel shame haow a life-long habit do stick to a guy like glue – didn’t realize haow things keep acomin’ an’ agoin’ year after year, when yeou git ’customed to doin’ the same.”

Perk was muttering this to himself half under his breath as the taxi took off, and immediately headed almost straight toward the quarter where the fast growing Candler Field lay outside the thickly populated part of Atlanta.

He was just about to thrust his head out of the open upper part of the door on the left side when Jack jerked him violently back.

“Hey! what in thunder – ”

“Shut up! and lie back!” hissed the other, almost savagely.

“Gosh-a-mighty! was he hangin’ ’raound after all?” gasped the startled Perk, who could think of but one reason for the other treating him so unceremoniously.

Jack had turned, and was trying to see through the dimmed glass – he even rubbed it hastily with his hand as if to better the chances of an observation; but as they whirled around a corner gave it up as next to useless.

“It was that boy all right, and making straight for the hotel in the bargain; which proves he’d located our layout okay,” he explained to the excited Perk.

“Doant tell me he done spotted us, partner?”

“I don’t just know,” came back the answer, hesitatingly. “I thought I’d yanked you back before he looked our way; but as sure as anything he came to a full stop, and stared after our taxi. For all we know he may be jumping for some kind of conveyance to follow at our heels.”

“Hot-diggetty-dig! but things shore air gettin’ some int’restin’ like, I’d say, if yeou asked me, boy! An’ even if he keeps on agoin’ to the Grady the night clerk’ll tell him as haow we done kicked aout. Kinder wish we was a zoomin’ long on aour course, an’ givin’ Jimmy the horse laugh. Caint yeou git the shover to speed her along a little, ole hoss?”

“We’re already hitting up the pace as far as safety would advise,” Jack told him, as they both swayed over to one side, with another corner being taken on the jump. “It’d spill the beans if we had any sort of accident on the way to the ship; better let well enough alone, partner.”

“Huh! the best speed a rackabones o’ a taxi kin make seems like crawlin’ to any airman used to a hundred miles an hour, an’ heaps more’n that,” grumbled the never satisfied Perk; but just the same it might be noticed that Jack did not attempt to urge the chauffeur to increase their speed at the risk of some disaster, such as skidding, when turning a sharp corner.

On the way Perk amused himself by taking various peeps from the rear, gluing his eye to the dingy glass. Since he raised no alarm it might be taken for granted he had made no discovery worth mentioning; and in this manner they presently arrived at the flying field, which they found fully illuminated, as though some ship was about to land, or another take off.