Trackers of the Fog Pack; Or, Jack Ralston Flying Blind
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CHAPTER VIII
THE WINGED MESSENGER
"Coast seems to be clear, eh, Jack?"
Perk asked this question as they reentered their room, after having comeback from supper.
"Looks that way, as far as I can see," replied his shipmate, throwinghimself down in an easy-chair, that seemed to invite attention.
"No signs o' aour bein' spied on so far," asserted Perk, boldly.
"I saw nothing that looked suspicious, partner," continued the other.
"Kinder had an idee that lanky goof at the table 'gainst the wall keptlookin' aour way, like he had a suspicion we'd bear watchin'--did yeouhappen to notice him, buddy--queer squint to one o' his lamps, an' aturrible long nose that made me think it jest longed to stick itself inother folks' business."
Jack laughed as if highly amused.
"So you reckoned he was some interested in us, did you, Perk? Well, hehad a right to be, I'd say, if you asked me."
"What's that, partner?" asked the stouter member of the crew of theflying ship that was working for Uncle Sam's law and order department.
"Why, he knew just who we were, and why we chanced to be in old SanDiego right now--get that straight, Perk."
"Yeou're kiddin' me, Jack," whined Perk, looking hurt.
"I repeat what I said; and to make it plainer I'm adding further thatman you mention not only knew us for what we are, but also why we werewhispering across our table so much, when certain things came up thathad to be discussed, even against our general rule never to talk shopwhen in public."
"The devil he did!" ejaculated the astounded Perk; "then why did yeoujest say there didn't seem to be any spy a hangin' 'round on our tail,to put them critters wise to our headin' thataways--tell me that,Mister?"
"Ask me a hard one, brother," Jack flashed back, still amused it couldbe easily seen. "I'll go a step further, and say that he was tempted tospeak to us, perhaps even join us at our table; but one thing kept himfrom doing so, which was the iron-bound rule that one agent of Uncle Sammust never thrust himself into any game that is being conducted byanother of the brotherhood."
Perk drew in a long breath, and stared at his comrade.
"Meanin', I kinder guess, as heow that party might be in the SecretService like we air--does that fill the bill, Jack?"
"Just what it does," he was told straight from the shoulder.
"Then--yeou _know_ him, I'm understandin' boy?"
"I most certainly do, Perk--you've heard of him many a time too, even ifyou've probably never happened to run across him. That man's one of thesmartest detectives in the whole shooting match--his name, son, isJosiah Harper, sometimes called The Hawk on account of his long beak,and the fact that he possesses abnormal eyesight."
Perk grinned as if relieved.
"So, that's the wonderful Hawk, is it, partner?" he was saying, as if hefound it difficult to grasp the fact. "No, I never did run acrost him sofar's I know. What in tarnation kin _he_ be doin' out this way--yeoudon't figger he's goin' to butt in on aour job, do yeou?"
"Hardly that, Perk, I should say; if he was we'd have been piped off tothat effect. I reckon he had orders to run over to San Diego to catch usbefore we took off."
"Does that mean he might be fetchin' a last hour message, Jack?"
"I figured that way," came the ready answer; "and following you acrossthe room I managed to rub up against Harper, to have a small slip ofpaper pushed into my waiting hand. Here it is, and we'll see what itcarries--some last hour report, I fancy, that the Chief believes willcome in handy, sooner or later."
"Well, I swan!" gasped Perk, evidently considerably tickled over theclever work carried through by his companion, without any diner in therestaurant being the wiser, so far as they knew.
For several minutes Jack appeared to be studying the writing on thecrumpled piece of rice paper he had drawn from his vest pocket andstraightened out. No wonder, when the writing seemed just a crazy messof words, and figures--undoubtedly a secret cipher used by the agents intheir particular branch of the Government Service, when occasion aroseto communicate with each other.
Jack was so proficient in the cipher writing that he could read itreadily without applying the key; in this case he evidently was weighingeach terse paragraph as he translated the same.
"Some important, I takes it, buddy?" observed Perk, who had watched theother nodding his head as he perused the message.
"Very, if we happen to be lucky enough to get close to the hideout ofthe gang. This little scrap of paper has a history, Perk. It was carriedfrom the mountains where this crowd hold out, to Los Angeles by afeathered post."
"I doan't jest get yeou, partner--what's a feathered post--I never yetseen anything like that--yeou got me sunk, Jack, boy."
"You know what a carrier pigeon is, of course, Perk--well, one of thetwo agents who were sent out on this case several months ago conceivedthe bright idea of carrying a bird with him. Just as he feared might bethe case they were eventually discovered, and brought to bay in a rockycanyon--the men wolves had them bottled up, so they must eithersurrender and take the consequences, or perish of hunger and thirst. Hewrote this message in code on this thin tissue paper, fastened it underthe wing of his bird, and tossed the pigeon up in the air. It may havebeen fired at, but since it showed up at its home cote in Angeles itescaped being killed, or even crippled."
"Great work that, partner," snapped the intensely interested Perk; "Ishore takes off my hat to the lad who could think up sech a neat dodge.An' right there clost to the tigers' den he could set daown an' write a'portant message in code, so's to send off his little birdie. That's anew trick on me, I own up--a stunt worth while."
Jack went on to interpret the contents of the little missive that hadbeen carried all the way from the heart of the mountains. Perk listenedas if bent on letting each and every word sink deeply into his receptivemind for future use.
"Them ere directions for locatin' the place where they foregather, isshore valuable stuff fur aour crowd, Jack, ole hoss," he finallyremarked, after his chum had read the writing on the thin paper twice,putting due emphasis on certain words that had an apparently significantmeaning.
"Particularly Perk, that part describing a splendid landing-field somemiles distant, where we could drop down safely, and without gettingclose enough to the haunt for sharp ears to catch the noise of a ship'sexhaust."
"Wust thing 'bout human bloodhounds huntin' their prey in a bus--neverwill seem right to me 'til they fix things so's we kin creep up on aourprey without tellin' the hull world a airplane is somewhere 'round.Think that happy day ever will come, Jack?"
"Sure it will, Perk, and we'll see it to--if it so happens we haven'talready crashed, and gone west. Why not, when such wonderful advancesare being made in aviation circles every moon. Right now we're doing alot of amazing stunts with our ships that were never dreamed of fiveyears ago. Anything is possible, now they've got started taking to theair."
"Huh! it was time all right," grunted Perk; "when yeou see haow all thehighways air gettin' glutted with autos, 'specially clost to big cities.Even San Diego folks find it hard to git 'round on Sundays an' holidays.But this fresh happenin' sorter gives me a hunch we're agoin' to makethe ripple, an' fetch home the bacon after all--things they air allworkin' thataways."
"I had the last word from the weather man," Jack went on to add; "andI'm sorry to say it wasn't quite as fine as I'd like."
"Storm agoin' to hold us up, mebbe naow, partner?" suggested Perk, withone of his impatient frowns, as he disliked very much being balked inany plan.
"N--no, not quite that bad; but there are reports of a nasty field offog gathering in the direction of the mountains far back from the coast;but we'll have to take our chances, now we're fixed for the jump--it maynot turn out as bad as they reckon on. Let's get ready to slip off,Perk."