Ambrose Newcomb - The Sky Pilot's Great Chase; Or, Jack Ralston's Dead Stick Landing

“And I can see plain enough if it keeps on skipping you it’s bound to keep you busy guessing right along,” Jack was saying, for only too well did he know this little weakness on the part of his comrade. Perk was bound to keep on pounding away at that puzzle day and night, giving himself no rest until he either solved the riddle or else some one told him the answer – left to himself he would never give up trying.

“Like as not, buddy,” replied Perk, frowning darkly; “seems I’m gettin’ up a tree every little while – never could remember names worth a cent but I don’t forget faces, you understand.”

“And then too, you’re a great hand for remembering to hear the first sound of the dinner bell,” said Jack with a chuckle.

“I sure am some punkins ’bout that,” admitted the amiable Perk with one of his goodnatured grins spreading over his homely face.

“What’s the program after we’ve cleaned up this mess, eh partner?” inquired Jack, who doubtless could make a good guess from previous experience as to what his companion’s answer was apt to be, but for once he counted without his host.

“Wall,” observed Perk shaking his head, “I did mean to take a look in at the pictur house, seein’ they got my ol’ favorite, Milton Sills booked tonight but shucks! it’s too late an’ ’sides, somehow I kinder lost my likin’ for action jest now – mebbe I got my fill in that busy bee session with the fire fiend down by the tenement district – kinder a bit lame in the arm muscles, so I figger on rubbin’ ’em with my salve that worked so fine after my rough landin’ away back. Yep, I’ll cut out the movies for one night in port an’ go to bed early.”

“I’m meaning to pick up all the extra sleep possible,” ventured Jack at which his mate nodded approvingly.

“I get you, partner,” he hastened to say, “kinder figgerin’ on our skippin’ out any ol’ time an’ like as not runnin’ up against a rough passage that’ll keep us on the jump. But I sure would like to have even an inklin’ which way that hop-off’s goin’ to lead us.”

“I’m surprised at such a reckless, devil-may-care sort of chap as I’ve known you to be, Perk, bothering your poor nut about such a silly thing just as if it mattered two cents to either of us which way we head – nothing ought to give us a second thought except that we’re ready to jump in and carry through, any old place under the sun.”

“Yeah! but then what’d I find to worry ’bout if I didn’t pick on the way we’re kept in the dark up to the last minute?”

Jack looked at him blankly and shook his head as if such peculiar philosophy were too much for him to master – then he changed the subject and the meal went on until even Perk, with his tremendous cargo capacity, could contain no more.

They sat in their room reading until their eyes getting heavy warned them it was time to hit the hay, as Perk was so fond of calling the act of getting into bed.

In the morning they were both astir, for it so happened that neither had ever shown signs of being late sleepers, save on special occasions.

“Another day,” remarked Jack while leisurely dressing, for since they had nothing afoot (save to possibly take a few hours’ spin in order to keep in practice as well as test out several new devices with which they had as yet not become as familiar as Jack would like), there was no necessity for any hurry.

“An’ wouldn’t I give somthin’ if only I knew we could check out before sundown tonight,” grumbled Perk, yawning and stretching as though life was becoming entirely too tame and monotonous to satisfy his cravings.

“Wait and see,” advised his chum, “you know the old saying that it’s always darkest just before dawn – we’re due to get a thrill before many more hours. Give Headquarters decent time to cook up a fine fat game for us, a nut to crack that’ll be worth going after. I’ve a few little things on my list that I mean to carry out this morning when I’ll be ready for the call.”

Perk seemed unusually slow that morning, though he did not complain about his lame muscles. Even when Jack asked about it he shrugged and with a grimace remarked indifferently:

“Oh! that’s okay, buddy – turned out to be a false alarm – nothin’ the matter with me, I guess, except I need shakin’ up a wheen.”

“You’ll get all you want of that I reckon before you’re many days older,” Jack told him, “somehow I’ve got a notion we’re going to be sent on a wild goose chase that may cover some thousands of miles and take us into a queer section of country – nothing but a surmise, or what you might call a hunch to back me up in that, remember, but I’ve known a hunch to come true more than a few times.”

“I wonder,” Perk observed dreamily, eyeing his comrade as if he again felt the old suspicion arise with regard to Jack knowing more than he chose to tell just then.

But unseen by either of the two pals, coming events were hurrying along and threatening to speedily engulf them in as dizzy a spin as either had ever encountered in all previous experiences.

It was around eight when they arrived at the flying field, as usual a scene of considerable bustle with ships coming in and departing – air mail carriers, visiting boats taking off in a continuance of their prearranged flights east or west and several heavier bombing planes that were being taken to Los Angeles by naval pilots for some secret purpose of the War Department.

Jack and his pal observed all this with grins of sheer enjoyment, so bred in the bone had their love for their profession grown to be that everything connected with flying drew them as the Polar star does the magnetic needle of a compass.

“Times are getting right lively around these diggin’s,” remarked Perk, with a sparkle in his eyes and enthusiasm in his voice.

“Seems like it,” replied Jack who chanced to be watching a novice just then starting out on what appeared to be his initial solo flight. “That boy shows fair promise of being due to break into the ranks of express pilots after he’s had another hundred miles or so of flying. I like the way he handles himself and the test pilot told me yesterday he was sure to be a comer.”

“Ol’ Bob ought to know what’s what,” mentioned Perk taking a look for himself, “there, he’s off and see how he lifts the ol’ bus when he’s ready. I watched him make as neat a three-point landin’ yesterday as anybody could wish. A few o’ ’em seem to be born with wings – but not many, not many, I’m sorry to say. Well, let’s step over and get things started.”

Perk stopped short as though some one had given him a blow – he seemed to be holding his breath while he stared and then commenced rubbing his eyes in a peculiar fashion, just as though he imagined he must be seeing things where they could not possibly exist.

Jack realized that his chum must have had a shock of some kind, and turned upon him quickly.

“What’s the matter – what ails you, Perk?” he demanded.

“Gosh amighty! Jack, looky there will you – the hangar – Mister Gibbons; you know, where we parked our boat – it’s burned down last night!”

Jack was naturally intensely shaken by this outburst from his companion. His first act was to whirl around and look hastily in the quarter indicated where he discovered quite a bunch of men clustered around some object from which wisps of smoke seemed to still be rising on the clear morning air.

He and Perk exchanged startled looks as though the same sudden thought had gripped their hearts.

“Queer I didn’t notice a thing before, Perk, though I saw a crowd gathered – but then that’s a common occurrence out here where so many interesting things keep on happening. Sure enough, the Gibbons’ hangar has gone up – such accidents don’t come along often in any modern aviation field.”