Chapter II: Part 2

"The more I hear from you boys the sicker I get over the way I'm wasting my young life with foolish cowboy stunts and make believe fights in the pictures. It's pretty much a fake business and gets on my nerves--even many of the most thrilling scenes are fakes of the worst kind--pulling the wool over the eyes of the simple public. I got a notion I'm built for something that's genuine and not a fraud--when you lads get into a mess it's the real thing and you can put your heart in the action without a director yelling at you and ordering it all done over--sometimes as many as five times, till his royal highness is satisfied and you're all worn to a shred with the hard work. Bah! me for the open and a life of genuine adventure, every time."

"Je-ru-salem crickets! but you have got it bad, partner!" croaked Perk grinning happily as he spoke. "Goin' are you, Cyclone?--well, we'll pick you up about nine on the way to the flyin' field. So-long--mighty glad we run across you tonight and had a chance to see how you work, them fists o' yourn. The Service could make good use o' a few real scrappers and I'd say the chance o' you buttin' in is gilt-edged."

So closed a day that was not without its redeeming features, even Perk being satisfied that things were moving along the line of adventure and excitement.

VI

CYCLONE PROVES GAME

In the morning after they had partaken of a late breakfast, Jack and his pal stepped around the corner to get a taxi, pick up Cyclone as per arrangement and proceed out to the flying field.

"For one thing," Perk was remarking as they stepped gaily along, "we ain't noticed any sign o' them gringoes we licked so neat last night. Guess they had their little tummies filled up with excitement and right now may be rubbin' arnica on their hurts. Wow! but I'd hate to've got them socks Cyclone passed on to his party--must have near broke his nose for I saw his face was gettin' fair bloody when he was snatched up and tossed into the car."

They found the ex-fighter and cow puncher waiting anxiously for them, he having been abroad early and had his customary morning meal. Later on they arrived at the landing field and found everything "okay" as Perk put it. He had confessed to a little anxiety concerning the safety of their ship but the man they had hired to stand guard had not seen or heard anything suspicious during the entire night.

"Huh! guess they feel too blamed sore this mornin' to be up an' around," was the sensible conclusion arrived at by Perk after his fears had been dissipated and in this summing up of the conditions he was seconded by Jack, likewise their mutual friend, Cyclone Davis.

It was Jack's custom to always have his ship in condition for an immediate flight--there could be no telling how soon an order might reach them giving directions for a hasty takeoff with their goal any old place as Perk was accustomed to remarking off-hand.

Consequently there was always a full tank of gas on board together with plenty of lubricating oil and all manner of essential things so necessary to a successful flight. Of course, as a rule they could drop down at some wayside landing field for the purpose of replenishing their stores since the whole country was becoming dotted with such necessary places, some of them gorgeously fitted up with everything in the way of landing lights, extra hangars for visiting ships and even service plants for supplying gasoline with little effort.

Cyclone displayed no actual concern as he was secured in his seat by a stout leather strap, having also had the parachute harness fastened to his back. He watched every move of his two experienced companions with eagerness and asked not a few pertinent questions, thus showing his desire to know all there was connected with the flying game.

Then the pilot gave her the gun and they started to move along with constantly accelerated speed until presently Jack lifted his charge and they no longer found themselves in contact with the earth but mounting toward the blue sky overhead.

Up, up they climbed with great spirals marking their course--the earth below began to lose its individual proportions and looked like an immense checkerboard to the thrilled cowpuncher.

Cyclone could be seen twisting his head this way and that, eager to see everything. Perk, noting this, nodded his head as though feeling positive the other was going to fall in love with flying. Dashing across the plains on a cow pony, pursued by made-up Indians and all that regular sort of stuff must seem mighty tame to him after moving through the air at the rate of possibly a hundred and fifty miles an hour with the motor and propeller keeping up a constant roaring sound and all with the consciousness that he was several miles above the earth, amidst floating fleecy clouds, with even the high-flying eagle far, far beneath.

Jack took special pains to give the ambitious comrade such a ride as he could never have imagined, even in his wildest dreams--he put the new boat through all manner of ordinary stunts, even turning over so that they kept going ahead at a fair pace while flying upside-down--he went through dizzy revolutions, banked sharply and carried on generally as skillful pilots seem to take great delight in doing.

All this never seemed to bother Cyclone a particle--perhaps his experience as a cowboy may have assisted him to meet the numerous thrills without quailing.

Of course he could not talk with either of his friends for hearing was next to impossible since Jack was not making use of the silencer that had been made a part of the "furniture" of the new ship--but he nodded his head joyfully whenever he found Perk watching him with a question in his eye.

The two pilots had their head-phones in position, for they would no doubt like to hold communication from time to time. Thus it happened that Jack, chancing to think of something, addressed his chum.

"Forgot to ask you whether they'd learned anything about our lost friend, Buddy Warner--how about it, Perk?"

The other mechanically shook his head in the negative.

"Nothing doin' along them lines, sorry to say partner," he explained. "To be sure there was a'plenty o' rumors, but the paper said nobody had learned a blamed thing that'd stand the wash. Afraid Buddy's gone under an' that the on'y thing left to do is to come across his crashed boat in some canyon off there in the Rockies. Tough, all right, but then us flyers jest got to look at sech mishaps as all in the line o' duty--it's like bein' a soldier all over again, ready to start out mornin's without a ghost o' an idee we'll be back to eat another meal or write a last letter home."

"I'm mighty sorry to hear that, Perk. Buddy was a fine boy and everybody liked him. That old mother of his, too, it may be the death of her. Hurts to feel that no matter how many pilots may be scouring the land they just can't seem to dig up even a little clue to tell where he dropped out of sight and never was heard from again--not even a flower could be dropped on his grave if they wanted to."

Jack had taken a wild ride through cloudland, going something like two hundred miles and then swinging around to make the return trip after that he had climbed to a ceiling of something like twenty thousand feet until they were all shivering with the frigid air. Still Cyclone never flinched--indeed, he did not even display the slightest inclination to beg Jack to drop down where it was warmer--in fact he showed all the signs of one who would eventually make an exceptionally good flyer, could he but pass his examination successfully.

It was close to high noon when they landed after the most thrilling morning in all Cyclone's checkered life. Before he said goodbye to his two pals he squeezed their hands, and with a face illumined said in his determined way:

"Me for a pilot's license, boys and when I've done my fifty hours of solo flying and get my papers, behold me making a bee-line for Washington and breaking into Uncle Sam's Secret Service corps. I'm a fade-out as a movie actor, and I feel that my star of destiny calls on me to be a cloud chaser, getting after law breakers in the air across the land from the Atlantic seaboard to the Gold Coast; ditto on the sea to the ends of the earth. Wish me luck, fellows and here's hoping that some day we'll all be pals in a great game. If ever you get to Los Angeles drop in and see me at Hollywood--if I'm still on deck and doing my little stunts rescuing fair maidens and beating the villains black and blue--all in your eye, boys."

They were sorry to see him go, for Cyclone had turned out to be a most enjoyable companion as Jack told Perk more than a few times.

Since the morning flight had covered so much in the way of stunt flying, speed testing and altitude climbing, Jack decided there was hardly any necessity for their going out again in the afternoon. So they figured on taking things comfortably in their room, catching up with their sadly neglected correspondence, and even getting in a nap or two while waiting for their usual supper hour to come along.

The sun was well down in the western heavens when a knock on their door caused Jack to answer it. Perk could hear him speaking to the lady from whom they hired the room, then Jack came back examining a yellow bit of paper, meanwhile giving Perk a peculiar look that somehow caused the other to jump up excitedly and exclaim:

"Hot ziggetty dog! that strikes me like a wire, partner, tell me, has our order to strike out and get busy come along--gee whiz! I'm trembling all over with eagerness to know what our next line's goin' to be!"

VII

THEY ARE OFF!

Jack lost no time in answering the pleading look in Perk's eyes.

"Order's come at last, brother and we're due to skip out of this burg just as soon as we can get a bite to eat."

"Where to, Jack--north, east, south or west?" babbled the pleased Perk.

"Looks like it might be the last you named," he was told.

"And if it ain't a dead secret would you mind tellin' me what sort of a jaunt we're pushed on to this time--is it to be a hunt, partner?"

"I'd say it was, and with a vengeance too," admitted Jack, still holding his chum over imaginary hot coals in that he declined to hasten with the information so urgently desired.

"So that's all settled, hey? And what are we supposed to be huntin', if it's just the same to you to cough up that necessary information--more rum-chasers--bogus money-makers--check raisers, mebbe--runaway cashier with all the bank funds--which is it buddy?"

"Never came within a mile of the right answer," Jack assured him with one of his puzzling smiles. "Fact is, it's a pilot we're ordered to fetch in."

"Pilot--say, do we have to shoot out to sea after a steamship that's carried off its harbor pilot--such rotten luck, when we expected something real big to take up our time and labor--shucks!"

"Wait, you jump at conclusions all too soon, Perk my boy. There happen to be several other kinds of pilots besides those who fetch ocean steamships in and out of New York harbor or the Golden Gate at San Francisco--for instance those on river steamboats, it might be, or those of airplanes!"

"Airships did you say, Jack?" roared Perk, his eyes widening while he clutched the hand that held the telegram as though tempted to try and read the printed words he could just manage to see upon the sheet.

"Yes, air-mail pilot in the bargain," Jack fired at him.

"Hot ziggetty dog! do you mean a _missing_ mail pilot and his name is----"

"Buddy Warner--that's right Perk, no other."

The most ecstatic expression imaginable crossed the face of the amiable Perk to proclaim better than any words could ever tell just what he thought of the great news he had just heard.

"I'm _so_ glad, partner--nobody could've fetched me better news than what you're telling me right now. If I was asked what I'd like best to do--jest what line o' work I'd be crazy to handle, I'd say it was to take a look in at every pesky canyon and sinkhole along the mountain ranges in hopes o' findin' that fine lad an' fetch him back home to his old mammy. And now you're givin' me my best wish right off the bat. Go on an' tell me what it says, that wire they sent you."

"That we are to drop anything and everything else and start out to help find Buddy Warner; they must think a heap of that mail pilot for our Boss to issue such a broad order as that. It means we've got to jump off before night sets in and head for the western town where he was last seen. It also means we'll be on the job for days, or anyway until we get orders it's no use combing the gullies and ravines and canyons any longer for the missing pilot must be dead."

"Can't strike off any too soon to please me, Jack. I'd even go without any grub if by saving an hour we could have a better chance o' strikin' pay dirt an' turnin' him up alive."

"No such desperate hurry as all that," the other assured him to put a quietus on his nervous desire to be winging their way toward the scene of all the excitement and thus add one more ship to the flotilla already seeking information concerning the whereabouts of the missing mail pilot. "Also, Perk, as nobody knows when we may get another chance to eat, it would be wise for us to take advantage of the present opportunity as well as lay in a little grub for emergencies. For all any one can say to the contrary it may be our hard luck to get caught in an air pocket and take a tumble just as Buddy probably did when such things would come in mighty handy. I'm leaving that little task for you to handle, Perk, because you're right clever when it's grub that's needed."

"Yeah, I always aim to be that way an' I take it as a compliment you're payin' me when you talk that way. Nobody c'n amount to thirty cents when he hasn't stoked his engine properly with fuel."

"I don't know whether you're on to it or not, brother," pursued Jack as they began to hastily assemble their few possessions preparatory to stepping out; "but I've been clipping every account I could find in the papers you fetched home, covering Buddy's dropping out of sight."

"Huh! I sure did take notice of the fact, but never dreamin' we'd have a peep-in at this wide search. I jest guessed you was enough int'rested to want to compare these here wise-cracks about the cause o' his trouble with what it really must a'been, in case they found the remains o' his crate in some canyon or gully."

"That was one reason," admitted Jack candidly, "but somehow, though I never let on to you, I seemed to have a sort of feeling we might be working on that mystery sooner or later--you might call it an _inspiration_ and let it go at that."

"Glory be Jack, an' what have you got in that wise coco o' yourn, if it's all right for you to up an' spill the game?"

"Some time while we're on our way," the other explained just as if he had the thing all laid out, even to the smallest particulars, "while you're running the ship, I mean to go carefully over those newspaper reporters' accounts and try to figure out just what could have happened to bring about Buddy's disappearance--also, find what sort of weather he must have struck right after jumping off from his last port of call to drop mail sacks and pick up others."

Perk thereupon wagged his head as though he began to understand what a skillful way his chum had of getting at the "meat in the cocoanut."

"No wildcat skirmishin', an' heatin' about the bush for _you_, eh partner?" he blurted out in sincere admiration. "An' I'd wager all I got in my jeans you're bound to hit on the real facts when everything's figgered up."

"Don't be too sure about that brother," advised Jack, shaking his head as he spoke, "I'll certainly do my level best, but you never can tell how the cat's going to jump. It's one thing to theorize and quite another to hit on what's the truth. I'll try and separate the wheat from the chaff and by degrees build up a little story of my own that may, and again may not, cover the ground. Now let's clear out of this after we've paid our landlady what we owe for our room, and thank her for being so kind to a couple of forlorn bachelor flyers."

This was soon done and shortly afterwards they sat down to have a last meal in their favorite restaurant, Perk meanwhile having laid in a certain amount of supplies in the way of such food as they could take care of while on the wing.

Then they hastened to the flying field to have their ship hauled out of the hangar, tuned up for the last time and give them an opportunity to "kick-off," as Perk was pleased to call it, before darkness fell.

Perk secretly had been entertaining a little fear lest at the last minute something not down on the bills might spring a leak and bring about an unfortunate delay in their departure--so much time had already passed since the disappearance of the air-mail pilot that another six or ten hours must seem deplorable--but fortunately nothing untoward came along. The ship was trundled to a nearby point where Jack figured they should take off, basing his decision on the way the wind happened to be blowing and after a brief examination they pronounced their air steed to be in perfect trim.

Jack shook hands with the late guardian of their plane as he slipped an extra bill into his possession so too, did Perk thank him warmly concerning the way he had performed his duty for since those enemies had failed in their attempt to "take them for a ride," it had always been possible for them to cripple the new cloud chaser so that something dreadful was likely to happen when they were a mile from the ground.

Nothing now remained for them to do save settle down in their seats--they had donned their dungarees, fixed their helmets and chute packs and in other ways prepared for a long flight into the west. Already it had grown dusk, although the sun could not be far down below the horizon and very likely they would glimpse his smiling face again when they had climbed toward cloud-land so Jack gave her the gun and with a roar they sped down the field.

VIII

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

Just as they had expected they soon glimpsed the descending sun when they had attained a certain altitude and at the same time the earth far below was almost lost to sight, since the night haze was settling down.

Perk, having nothing else of importance to do, was arranging their headphone apparatus so that in case they wished to make any sort of talk it could be readily carried out in spite of the continuous clamor surrounding them. This new ship was also supplied with that recent invention known as a silencer--long used in connection with firearms by the way, and now applied to the motor of a plane with successful results--Jack had not thought it necessary to bring it into play since it retarded the speed of the ship to some extent and there was no necessity for demanding a cessation of the dreadful clatter and droning.

Jack had headed directly into the west as soon as their craft attained a sufficient altitude. He had his chart on the airways well studied, and knew just where and when they could strike a line of beacons, such as have been arranged for air mail pilots in their night journeys to and fro with their complement of letter sacks and possibly express matter.

After a short interval the sun disappeared even for these high flyers and the stars gradually began to dot the blue heavens overhead.

"If you don't mind Perk," the head pilot was saying, as he turned on his cabin light, "I'd like you to take her over for a spell. Somehow I'm anxious to go over those clippings and make a start at laying out our plan of campaign. We've got nothing as yet to go by except what those newspaper boys gathered up so as to spin their fairy yarns--later we're bound to strike pay dirt on our own account, and can do a little building with a foundation of real stuff, not speculation and romance behind it."

That suited Perk to a fraction, for truth to tell he was floundering in a bog himself, not knowing how they were to get down to "hard pan" and be able to lay out their course with some show of reason. He had become quite adept at the old dodge of "leave it to George" and filled with confidence in his chum's ability to handle any sort of situation, he believed he displayed more or less wisdom in not attempting to wrestle with mysteries beyond his limited capacity.

For a long time Jack read on, tore up a number of the slips of newspaper stuff, laid others aside as if for a second application, made a number of notes on a little pad he kept handy and seemed so much in earnest that Perk kept tabs of his actions with glistening eyes. In his mind Jack already must have "struck oil" and doubtless arrived at some specious solution of the riddle that had the entire country guessing--what had happened to Buddy Warner, the best liked air-mail pilot in the whole region west of the Mississippi--where had he crashed--was he still alive or had he followed the long line of famous flyers who had "gone west" after attempting to put through some dazzling exploit that would have brought immortal fame if only it had succeeded?

All this while the plane roared on, slipping through space at the rate of something close to a hundred and twenty miles an hour for this was an occasion when speed meant everything. Perk too rejoiced in handling the throttle of an up-to-date ship that put it all over the ancient type of plane which he had been wont to employ when going forth so flippantly to offer battle to those pestering Hun pilots when the war was on in France.

"Hot ziggetty dog partner! You sure have had a big session with them news articles an' I notice how you threw a heap o' them overboard like they didn't 'mount to a row o' beans."

Perk said this when he saw Jack shake his head as though he might be somewhat puzzled and needed more or less reflection so as to straighten things out.

"After all, I didn't get even half as much genuine information from the bunch as I hoped I would," the other told him, though there was no hint of bitter disappointment in his manner of speaking, only disgust that so much could be written, founded on such minute real facts. "These newspaper boys can spin the most gorgeous yarns on a speck of truth--it's their business to stretch things to the breaking point you know, partner, and they sure do that. All that I discarded and threw over the side was just chaff, without a single sound kernel of wheat in it. When later on, after I've had time to digest things a bit when I go over what's left, chances are there'll be another sheaf of clippings go bad and be tossed out. Some of those stories were the bunk, made up in the reporter's skillful brain out of nothing at all, even if interesting to the general reader. In these days the story's the main thing editors demand."

"Yeah! I kinder guessed that way myself," remarked Perk, trying hard to seem disgusted, "though I own up they did make what you might call interestin' readin' that might pull the wool over the eyes o' most folks. An' what did you think was the worst story in the bunch, Jack old hoss?"

"I don't know if you read it, Perk, for it was in a paper I bought myself and which you hadn't seen," Jack told him.

"Seems to me I do 'member you fetched one home and I lost track o' it in all the rush an bustle, Jack. Tear in an' tell a feller what it all was about, won't you?"

"This was a letter received from a pilot who had formerly worked on the same shift as Buddy Warner--it went on to broadly hint the boy had some kind of secret enemy and was deeply concerned--the writer of the letter couldn't say positively what sort of trouble the missing pilot was up against, but declared it his belief that Buddy had met with some kind of foul play--that this other person might be interested in Buddy's disappearance!"

"Rats! I don't like the way he put that stuff over!" scoffed Perk with considerable indignation and concern. "Clean as a hound's tooth that was Buddy Warner and every one who knew him would say the same. I don't believe the cub had an enemy in the world--I'd call that a nasty makeup o' a crooked yarn."

"I'm with you there brother," said Jack firmly. "But you can understand how eager some people are to get into print--they see an opening to break into some matter that's gripped the public attention and just yearn to share in the spotlight. We'll have a chance to dig out the truth for ourselves before a great while, if any sort of luck helps us to grab the right cards."

Jack thereupon put away the few clippings he had kept and was soon in charge of the stick while his partner occupied himself with some of the ordinary duties pertaining to the observer and navigator of a double-seat air craft when on the wing.

The motor continued to function to a point close to perfection, showing how marvelous the skill of those mechanics to whom the task of building an engine fitted for the work of driving a heavier than air ship at an amazing pace through space must be.

The more Jack and Perk saw of their new boat, the higher their sincere admiration soared. If ever perfection was reached in such things it surely must have been when they put this engine together with an accuracy that compared favorably with the works of the finest and most expensive watch that ever came out of Switzerland.

"No necessity for both of us to stick it out when the going is as smooth as it is right now," suggested Jack, "later on we may strike rough sledding when both of us will have to keep on deck for many hours. Suppose Perk, you curl up and take a snooze. I'll promise to wake you up inside of three hours when you can take charge while I hit the hay--how about that arrangement, boy?"

"Oh! it's okay any old way with me, partner," replied the other readily enough for truth to tell Perk was commencing to yawn and show other signs of being sleepy, though he would willingly have stayed on the job until morning had there been any necessity for doing so.

"Just ten p. m. right now brother--about half-past twelve, then, I'll give you a nudge which will mean your watch has arrived while I get a couple of hours off duty to freshen up. Everything looks up to snuff so far buddy, and let's hope it will keep on that way right along."

So Perk settled down as comfortably as the limited accommodations allowed while Jack continued to watch his indicators on the black dashboard and by the exercise of continual care avoid such traps as tricky air pockets, such as might fall in their way.

IX

THE THREATENING CRASH

As time passed Jack continued to sit there in charge, frequently glancing over the side to see if there were any signs of the swirling beacons especially designed to assist air mail pilots on their way to some distant goal.

He had figured out that they must, sooner or later, come upon the line of such beacons and once found it would not be very difficult to continue following them during the balance of the night.

In the end he was greatly pleased to discover a faint light ahead--in about ten seconds he glimpsed it again and when this happened for the third time his last doubt was removed.

As he passed far above the revolving light he changed his course a little knowing the points of the compass the line of beacons followed, he must set out to follow them for unless he managed to do the right thing he could not possibly come across the next whirling glow.

Three, four of the friendly lights designated as "guide-posts of the air" he passed and all seemed going just as he would wish, when there came a sudden and unwelcome change.

Perk, sleeping just behind the pilot, felt something come in contact with his arm and he instinctively understood it was Jack giving him the prearranged nudge to let him know his rest period had expired and that it was up to him to take his turn at the controls.

"Huh! I get you, partner," he mumbled, not yet thoroughly aroused, "watchman, how goes the night, eh Jack, old hoss?"

"Not so good," the other told him.

"I swan now, if this ain't a punk deal!" ventured Perk, in a tone of injured innocence, "when did this beat in on us, buddy?"

"It's just plain unadulterated fog," Jack told him in a matter-of-fact tone as though such a thing was to be expected in a night's run where every possible type of country, from prairie to mountains, could be met up with and the contrary streams of air were favorable to heavy fogs.

Perk first of all took a single look over the side.

"Ginger pop! a reg'lar pea-soup that's been dished up for us, it sure is, partner!" he exclaimed, the head phones still being in use so that talking was no trouble at all even though the racket all around was deafening.

"Some fog, that's right Perk," admitted the unmoved pilot "the one you're mixed up with always does seem to be the worst ever."

"How long we been kickin' through this mess?" demanded Perk.

"Oh, something like half an hour more or less I figure," said Jack.

"An' it's now jest three in the mornin'--meanin' some two and a half more hours before the first peep o' day."

He leaned forward, the better to survey the altitude dial in order to learn how high Jack had been flying.

"Four thousand feet an' more, eh?" Perk remarked, "I guess that might be fairly safe, unless there happened to be a stiff mountain range standin' across our course. Want me to keep that right along, Boss?"

"For another half hour and then we've got to climb as far again--can't take any chance in a mess like this--I've always got that Transcontinental Air Transport liner, the _San Francisco_ in my mind when I strike into a heavy fog."[3]

Perk made a queer sound with his lips as if to indicate that his feelings ran along the same groove. Indeed, many an air pilot has had that same terrible tragedy flash before him when plunging onward through an opaque wall of fog, unable to even see his own wingtips.

"I'm on partner," said Perk as he took over the stick. "Meanin' to get seven winks o' sleep, ain't you?"

"Not just now," responded Jack, "truth is I'm not a bit sleepy so I'll just take things easy and do some thinking while you run the ship."

"Expected to meet up with some muck like this I guess, eh, partner?"

"Sure did Perk, only not quite so soon," came the undisturbed reply. "It seems there's been an unusual amount of dirty weather out this way lately and we've just slammed into this fog as a feeler. About four, start to head toward that higher ceiling--no particular hurry I'd say, according to the chart."

"Okay Boss, I got you," with which Perk relapsed in silence while the plane continued to speed along with its monotonous roar and hum.

If anything the fog was growing thicker, Perk made up his mind, although he really had nothing to afford any comparison since they were completely shut in as by a circular wall, not even a solitary star being in evidence and certainly not the faintest glimmer of a moving beacon down below where the unseen earth lay.

At such a time as this the air pilot finds himself depending wholly on the accuracy of his instruments, backed by his ability to read them without the slightest error. Perk was well up in all this and had no doubt of his judgment in carrying on. Flying blind is what these gallant sailors of the airways call such a condition, though the only recognition of the encompassing danger is a cutting down of their swift pace.

The consequent thrill that accompanies such a voyage through a sea of fog comes to every pilot; although in time they become so accustomed to the conditions that it fails to affect them as in the beginning. Should the bravest of men, though a beginner in aviation, ever experience such a wild night ride through space and heavy fog it would give him a sense of anticipation that could come through no other source, whether on sea or land.

Once, when there chanced to be a little change in the scant night breeze, Perk lifted his head as if to listen but before he could decide whether he had actually heard something or had been deceived by a strut snapping back, the feeble air again fell away and left him groping in ignorance, not wholly satisfied, yet unable to find anything on which to hang a conjecture.

"Rats! you must be away off your base Perk," he told himself chidingly, "huh! not a ghost o' a chance in ten thousand--yet it sure did sound like a ship in action. Must be hearin' things again in the night."

He had slackened the pace somewhat, thinking of that dreadful crash down amidst the lava beds of the wildest country in the whole Southwest, mind pictures that made him willing to consider safety first before speed. Perhaps it was fate that made Perk for once conquer that reckless spirit of his for there could be no telling what the consequences might have been otherwise.

Again he lifted his head and assumed the strained attitude that went with listening intently--the roar of their engine's exhaust seemed to eclipse any other sound and as if seized with a sudden inspiration, Perk reached out and brought the silencer into play. This had an immediate effect--and then too it caused Jack to take notice, for he called out:

"What's the big idea partner--trying things out are you?"

"Listen, Jack--don't you hear it ahead there?" almost shrieked the one at the stick.

A few seconds passed during which Jack must have been straining his ears to the utmost. Then he gave a cry that bubbled forth in a mixture of incredulity and alarm--the only time on record that Perk could remember Jack showing such an unusual emotion.

"It's a ship, Perk!" he shrilled.

"You bet it is!" echoed the other, dismay in his thick voice.

"Dead ahead of us too and bearing this way," continued Jack as the portentous sounds grew louder with each passing second. Their own motor had been throttled down to a mere whisper and thus any other sound was due to be heard.

A few more dreadful seconds passed with that throbbing sound growing more and more threatening.

"Must be the east bound air mail!" Jack hastily exclaimed, "make a nose dive partner, and in a hurry too, for she's right on us!"

-----

Footnote 3:

September, 1929, this wonderful up-to-date giant air liner with eight
persons aboard, became lost in a storm and fog and crashed headlong
into a rocky cliff in the Black Rock Valley, some twenty-six miles
from Gallup, New Mexico, exploded and burned with a total loss of
ship, crew and five passengers. The tragedy of this once volcanic
district sent a wave of horror throughout the entire country and
proved a setback to the cause of aviation. Jack only voiced the
feelings of nearly every pilot in saying what he did.

X

FLYING BLIND

Instantly the head of the ship was pointed downward and they started to coast--even as this maneuver was in progress and the roar became deafening, both of them caught a fragmentary glimpse of bright lights passing just overhead.

It had indeed been a close shave, for only that Perk proved so clever at the stick they must have met the mail ship head on with the inevitable result that yet another tragedy of the air would be chronicled in the morning newspapers with scare headlines fully an inch high.

Perk had lost his voice due to the sudden nerve strain and even ordinarily cool Jack Ralston waited a brief spell, in order to insure proper breathing before trying to speak.

"Reckon you got all the thrill you could stand that time, Perk!" he finally remarked with a little quiver in his voice.

"Beat anything I ever stacked up against--that's right partner," Perk frankly admitted, doubtless taking in a deep breath of relief.

"Never might happen again in twenty years," said Jack, as if that feature of the near tragedy affected him most of all. "With all this wide space all around us, just to think of two airships heading straight at each other in a fog--who says now we're not watched over by a special Providence?"

"You said it buddy," Perk agreed. "That sure was a time when that muffler paid a big interest on its cost an' I kinder guess saved our lives in the bargain. It pays to advertise an' also to pick up the newest fixin's along the line o' aviation discoveries an' inventions."

"Just so Perk. If our engine had kept thundering away right along we might not have been warned in time to get out of the road and let that stunt-flying air mail pilot squeeze past. He ought to be reported for hustling along like that in such a thick soup; but since we're still alive and kicking, I reckon we'll just have to let it drop at that."

"Mebbe you're right there, Jack old bean--strikes me we were hittin' it up like hot cakes in the bargain an' not so innocent after all. I'm a'wonderin' if he got wind o' the close call he had--must have lamped our lights as we ducked and went down like a bullet or the stick o' a rocket that'd exploded up near the stars. Shucks! I'd jest like to meet up with that guy sometime an' ask him what his feelin' was--bet you he was as scart as we felt when he whizzed right over our heads."

"It might be the part of wisdom to climb to a higher level now, partner," hinted Jack. "Unless I miss my guess that chap was dropping, as if he'd come down from the upper regions, which gives me an idea he knew where he was and had been keeping a big ceiling so as to avoid butting into some mountain peak."

"Here goes then," and with the words Perk commenced to climb, the new ship being so constructed as to be a great improvement over the old type of plane, able to ascend at a steep angle without any of those formerly necessary laborious spirals.

At the height of four thousand feet he again leveled off and kept to the course Jack had marked out. Perhaps they were over some air mail line with its friendly flashing beacons winking far below; but that deadly wall of fog lying under their keel effectually prevented them from taking advantage of any such guide posts along the way; nor would it have availed them greatly could they have dropped down to within a few hundred feet of the earth, for even at such a distance it must have been utterly out of the question for the keenest vision to have picked up a beacon or even detect its flash because of the curtain that fairly smothered them on all sides, above and below.

They no longer conversed, even Perk understanding how serious their condition must be and holding his usually ready tongue in check, while Jack took it out in tense thinking, watching the various dials and figuring just which way they would be going in case of drift.

So half an hour crept by, with no change whatever in the conditions by which they were surrounded. It was now growing most unbearable, so monotonous, so very tiresome. A heavy fog is hard enough to bear at any time but when it stretches along hour after hour, without the slightest sign of any diminuation, it is bound to get on the stoutest nerves and produce symptoms bordering on a panic.

"Perhaps we might find some relief if we kept going up," suggested Jack after some time had passed. "It sort of stifles me to keep in such a thick mess as this, growing worse all the while."

"Huh, if I wasn't jest thinkin' that way myself partner," Perk declared, thus showing that it was a case of "me too."

They kept on climbing, although neither could discover much difference in that miserable opaque blanket. It began to grow much colder too, although they managed to don some heavier coats which would keep them from feeling the change in weather conditions to any extent.

"Don't seem to be much use I guess Perk, in all my experience I can't say I ever ran across a fog that expended such a distance above the earth. Most times you can get out of the ditch by climbing, but here we are at a thirteen thousand foot ceiling and it's as black as ever. No use trying to get above the line--it just can't be done."

"Right you are partner," admitted Perk, leveling off, "though I must say the breathin' seems a shade easier than down below."

"We'll stick it out here for a while," Jack went on to say, "and it may be that the coming dawn may bring some sort of a breeze along to scatter this beastly stuff and let us see what's what."

"Anyway," Perk was saying, as if in relief, "at such a height we ain't likely to rub noses with any rock pinnacle and to our everlastin' grief in the bargain. The air's like enough free of mountain peaks around this section o' country, which is some comfort to a fog-bound pair o' ginks, I admit."

It was by this time about five o'clock and Perk was banking heavily on the fact that inside of another half hour, at that extreme height, they were likely to discover the advance couriers of approaching dawn commencing to paint the eastern heavens with fingers of delicate shaded colors.

"Got any sort o' idee where we might be right now, Jack?"

"Why, sitting tight in a nice fog blanket I'd say, brother," replied the one who was now at the controls, having some time back made the exchange, easily enough accomplished without the necessity of changing seats.

"Jokin' aside, Jack, I mean what section o' country might be away down below-stairs where there's land and green things--how I'd like to rest my tired peepers on somethin' _green_ for a change."

"I'm not as sure of my figures as I'd like to be Perk, for it's been hours since we saw anything at all except this fog; but we've covered a lot of space and must be well on our way to the hunting ground we started for. Wait until we get out of this mess and then it can be settled as soon as we strike any town, village or even hamlet, that'll give us a hint concerning our bearings."

"I'm bothered a little bit just the same," complained Perk.

"What about, old pal?" demanded Jack quickly.

"What if somethin' should happen to our ship--we're a long way from any place an' well, 'fore you took over the stick Jack, seemed to me there was a bit o' a holdup to the slick way the boat had been whooping things up--I might a'been mistaken, but she seemed to be wallowin' some, like she didn't just feel pleased over the cargo she had to carry."

"Perk, now that you mention it I do believe you're right--I'm not pushing her much, but she does act sort of sulky, as if tired of this thing--not that we could blame her for feeling that way. Tell you what, partner--suppose you climb out and take a look around to see if everything seems okay."

Accordingly Perk, as if sensing some hidden motive in what the other had just remarked, left his seat and made his way out to the port wing--the ship was swaying more or less, dipping and nosing upward as Jack held her to it, but Perk being quite accustomed to such things had no trouble whatever. A minute later and he came hurrying back to attach his earphones again and cry out in a tone filled with more or less excitement:

"Jack, there is something the matter for sure--fact is there's ice formin' on both wings, and right heavy at that!"

XI

AN UNSOLVED MYSTERY

"Take over the stick again Perk," said Jack, apparently not very much astounded by the serious information his mate had just given him, "I think I'd like to have a look myself; I've never had any great trouble with ice since I've not been much of a hand to soar up twenty or thirty thousand feet for an altitude record. Nothing much to worry about partner. At the worst we will have to drop lower down so the warmer air will melt the stuff. A ship like this can stand considerable in the way of a cargo, though it isn't just the proper caper to stow the load on the wings--far better to have it somewhere inside the fuselage. Here goes!"

Whereupon Jack crawled out of the cabin and started to make a close investigation while Perk did the honors along the steering line, more or less eager to hear his mate's report when he came back from his little tour.

"It's all right brother," he heard Jack saying, even before the other regained his customary front seat--"nothing to bother about and we'll soon knock spots out of what ice has already gathered. Pretty snappy out here, I notice. We'll drop down to a more comfy level and take chances with being suffocated by that gruelly stuff. Go to it sonny, I'm inside the safety line."

Down they went in long slides one after another until the thirteen thousand became ten, then seven and there Jack told his comrade to "hold everything" and cut down the speed a bit.

"Daylight's about due I figure," he observed, "and once we cut loose from this blank curtain and pick up some visibility, we'll not have to feel nervous about some of those rocky snags that lie in ambush to impale venturesome aviators when off their course and lost in a maze."

Perk soon afterward realized that what his mate had remarked must be true, for sure enough over in the east he could manage to detect some faint signs of a break in the hitherto impenetrable gloom surrounding them, positive evidence of the fact that morning was "just around the corner."

"What's more," Perk told himself, in jubilation, "I guess now I c'n feel a little waft o' a breeze startin' up. Soon as that gets goin' it's goodbye to Mister Fog. Whew! mebbe I won't be tickled pink when that's come to pass cause I'm crazy to set eyes on dear old Mother Earth again. Yes sir, the pesky old fog is commencin' to move out--jest keep it up, for you never will be missed."

"All over but the shouting Perk," remarked Jack just then as if he could have understood the tenor of the other's thoughts. "Inside of another half hour we'll be free from the stuff--wow! I never want to run through such a siege as this again, particularly in this wild Western country where peaks are in the majority and every one looking to stab some poor wandering airship."

"I kinder guess you're itchin' to get our bearings again Jack?" asked the walking question mark who was never really happy except when in a position to toss queries at some one.

"Naturally so," Jack told him point blank. "We had to get twisted up more or less during that drive through fogland, and the sooner I can pick up my bearings the better I'll be pleased. If you ask me offhand where we might be, I'd say within a few hundred miles of the spot where Buddy Warner took off on his last trip."

"Good enough!" crowed Perk, "nothin' like making things fly when you're about it--no beatin' around the bush for us, partner. Then if we pick our course as per the information that leaked from that airport where he left his mail sack an' took on another batch, why we might begin to keep a watchful eye on the ground in hopes o' makin' some sorter discovery--is that right?"

"You can begin using the glasses just as soon as we get our first glimpse of green spots below. Later on we'll drop down until we're not more than three hundred feet, more or less, above the treetops--if there are any tall trees in this section of country, which might be a question--possibly nothing in that line but scrub oaks, mesquite and the like, stunted stuff that grows on many western mountains and in rocky canyons."

Perk was in a little heaven of his own later on when calling out that he could distinctly see the ground, thanks to his binoculars.

Morning had come, with the sun well above the horizon and everything indicating they had a fair day ahead as frequently happens after a heavy fog. It was a wild stretch of country now spread beneath the sky voyagers, with all manner of lofty peaks in every direction, mountain ranges running criss-cross without the faintest sign of regularity.

"I swan if I'd care to be lost down in that sort o' country," Perk was saying as he continued to stare with great eagerness. "Jest about like huntin' for a needle in a haystack as to 'spect to find a cracked bus in all that awful scramble."

"Oh! we haven't got to where the trail is warm yet, partner," Jack informed him, "though of course it isn't going to do any harm for you to scour the ground as we cut along. When a thing's lost, the chances are it happens to be lying just where nobody suspects--I've found that out myself more than a few times."

"Yeah! jest so Boss," grunted the one who handled the binoculars, "an' if we fall down on the job it ain't goin' to be from not usin' our eyes to the limit. But say, things keep on pilin' up worse than I ever ran across in all my whole life--look at what's ahead there--can you beat it, Jack?"

"Pretty tough stretch of mountain land any way you take it," said Jack as he swept his eyes around from right to left, "but fortunately we have nothing to worry about as long as we keep a fairly decent ceiling. Fact is, I'd call it free-going up here, with a nice cool breeze knocking on our port quarter and not hindering us any, even if it doesn't push us along."

"That's right, Jack--after that boring through a fog belt hundreds o' miles wide, this does seem like a little bit o' Heaven on earth. Mebbe you've noticed me takin' a look all around once in a while--up in the air, I mean? Somehow I've been wonderin' why we haven't glimpsed a single ship since sun-up."

"Do you mean air-mail crates or some of those pilots who're searching for signs of Buddy Warner?" the other demanded of Perk.