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

XIII
OVER THE MOUNTAIN TRAILS

This then was what the deeply interested Perk read as he sat there on the isolated bench at the Spokane flying field and it can easily be understood the startling information he soaked in thrilled him to the core:

“The Government agents have been informed of what they suspect will prove to be a gigantic conspiracy to smuggle liquor in immense quantities across the border from Canada into this territory, carried out in an original manner never before attempted and which has thus far met with unqualified success.

“This conspiracy, it is believed, has resulted in bringing many thousands of dollars worth of rum over the line, which has been distributed among the numerous cities of our northwestern country. Several rum rings have, from all accounts, been using pack trains, often well camouflaged, in order to avoid contact with customs officers who might be abroad watching for undesirables.

“These clever smugglers, it appears, adopted numerous devices to hide the long lines of plodding, liquor-laden animals and at times it is claimed they have even driven the mules over United States forestry service trails.

“So systematized are the wide-spread operations of the rum rings said to be that a ‘traffic manager’ has been employed to route the many pack trains from Canada to secluded places opposite the sparsely settled and mountainous Okanogan country in north central Washington.

“Further accounts say that the Pacific manager also watches the weather and when it snows sends white mules along the trails, the animals blending with the whiteness of the landscape. When the ground is bare – bay animals carry the liquor.

“An old time packer who knows how to use the ‘diamond hitch’ in strapping pouchlike containers onto the animals’ backs it is claimed is employed to load the mules.

“Heavily armed guards accompany the liquor trains to prevent hijackers from stealing the packs. Whisky and wines are being transported over the winding trails, and upon arrival at the liquor depot all goods smuggled over the border are loaded into automobiles for transportation into many cities throughout the Northwest.”

“Well, what do you think of that for a corking dodge?” asked Jack when he saw that his companion had gone through the entire clipping.

Perk shrugged his shoulders quaintly in a way that stood for a good many words, but he only said:

“Gosh amighty! but don’t it beat all how some men’ll go to such heaps o’ trouble jest to make a livin’, taking all sorts o’ chances to get plugged with hot lead or grabbed up and sent to the pen for a spell?”

“It’s the day for reckless engineering,” declared Jack soberly enough, “with a gold mine always just ahead of the risky scheme. I’ve heard of some queer games being tried out in connection with the smuggling racket but up to now never had a whisper of anything like the mule pack-train steer.”

“Huh! and do you reckon there’s any truth in what this paper says or did it jest boil up in the brain o’ one o’ them reporters, eh Jack ol’ hoss?”

“That’s what’s bothering Mr. Maxwell, it happens,” returned the other composedly. “You see, he’s responsible to Uncle Sam for keeping things in decent order up here in Oregon and Washington and if such rackets as this can be put through right under his nose, it’s bound to get him in bad with the Government. That accounts for him asking me to send him word if we chanced to learn anything worth while about these so-called mule pack-trains, since it would be of some assistance in helping him stamp out the trick.”

“Course then partner,” went on the eager Perk, “you told the gent we’d be on’y too glad to lend a helpin’ hand ’cause to be sure he a’ready knows we’re connected with the Secret Service an’ runnin’ in the same class as he does?”

“That’s about the gist of what I told him, Perk and that if the opportunity came our way we’d even go to a lot of trouble so as to help him out. To be sure there might be one chance in ten for us to pick up any worth-while clue but that’s dependent on little Lady Luck, as I’ve heard you say many a time when we were almost muzzled with uncertainty and looking for a lead.”

“I’m bound to say the further I get to figgerin’ ’bout this queer racket, Jack, the more I like it. Think o’ glimpsin’ a long string o’ mules up in them mountain passes, streamin’ along jest like a desert caravan across there in Africa. I’ve always wanted to lamp such a picture.”

Evidently Perk was all keyed up to do everything in his power to lend a helping hand to the Government representative in Spokane of whom Jack had said so many nice things.

He soon settled down after they had lost all trace of the city in the mining sector of the Northwest and proceeded first of all to carry out his accustomed duties with regard to the ship and then when he had time on his hands to begin using his glasses.

It was well worth the trivial effort it cost, that grand view of the mountainous section of country over which they were passing. Here and there Perk could spy little lakes of clear water nestling in secluded valleys or basins and from his elevated position as observer, looking very much like gems in a bold setting.

“Like as not,” Perk was telling himself as he looked longingly down on a particularly lovely little sheltered sheet of water, “no white man has ever yanked a gay old trout out o’ that lake up to this day! Gee whiz! what wouldn’t I give to be settled down alongside that ’ere pond a’flippin’ my gang o’ flies out over that water an’ playin’ a three-pound speckled beaut! But no sech luck I kinder guess – not this trip anyway.”

They were soon drawing closer to where Jack told him the International Boundary between the States and Canada lay. Of course they would not be apt to know just when they crossed over, since there would be nothing to mark the actual dividing line as happened in Europe where every country is so jealous of the others that each road is guarded, with passports having to be shown and stamped.

His interest grew with their further advance for he could not help remembering what Jack had said concerning those bold international smugglers who were supposed to be continually crossing over from the north with their mule packs laden heavily with the forbidden beverage that was in such great demand among certain circles of law-scoffers.

“Say, mebbe now,” Perk told himself at one time – for he had the bad habit of communing with himself on occasion and even seemed to take considerable pleasure in so doing – “I wouldn’t be tickled some if on’y I happened to glimpse one of them caravans pullin’ through a twistin’ mountain trail like I c’n see right down yonder this very minute! An’ wouldn’t it gimme a heap o’ pleasure to swoop down so’s to drop a few o’ them tear bombs like I did when we blew up the fightin’ rum-smugglers and the hijackers that meant to take away their cargo the time we were doin’ our huntin’ on the gulf coast o’ Florida!”³

He laughed softly at the recollection of what must have been a pretty stirring piece of action, to judge from what Perk was saying. Then he applied himself with renewed energy to his task of watching that winding mountain trail that vanished again and again, only to bob up shortly afterwards.

“Hugh! somethin’ seems to tell me that ’ere must be a well traveled trail an’ leadin’ down from the north in the bargain,” Perk went on to remark as if deeply interested. “I cal’late one o’ them ’ere pack mule trains might bob up along that path, if thar’s any truth in the stories goin’ around and keepin’ Mister Robert Mills Maxwell awake nights. It’d be a shame if we missed connections when I know Jack’d give a heap jest to set eyes on the show. Too bad that we’ll be losin’ all our chances right soon when we strike off to the west. Can you tie it for keepin’ a poor feller’s nerves all on edge?”

A few minutes afterwards Perk might have been seen to suddenly become rigid, centering his attention on a certain point ahead as though something had caught his strained vision that kept his eyes glued fast.

Jack, intent on his own thoughts and watching his dials with the fidelity of an air pilot who believed in the slogan of safety first, had not become aware of Perk’s preoccupied condition so that it gave him something of a little thrill when he felt the other nudge him in the ribs and remark with his peculiar drawl:

“Hot ziggetty dog, partner! Did I hear you say mules?”

XIV
THE BOOTLEG PACK-MULE TRAIN

“What’s up?” demanded Jack as if he could surmise from his companion’s peculiar question that Perk had made a pleasing discovery of some kind.

“Lady Luck’s gone an’ picked us out again to play us for favorites, ol’ hoss,” Perk told him, at the same time half rising in his eagerness to point out something far ahead.

Jack possessed very good eyesight and as the sun chanced to favor him just then he could manage to make out a snake-like line of small objects that appeared to be moving slowly along in zigzag fashion, evidently following a crooked mountain trail that wound upwards toward the peak of the divide.

“So, that’s one of them, is it?” Jack burst out, himself a bit thrilled by the spectacle after having heard so much concerning the pack-mule trains said to have been adopted by the venturesome souls engaged in smuggling operations across the Canadian border.

“With the glass here, Jack, I c’n make ’em out all to the good,” declared the excited Perk – “a fairly big caravan in the bargain, the mules loaded for keeps an’ toilin’ along jest like they do down in Mexico whar motor cars ain’t so plentiful or cheap. Whee! what a sight for sore eyes that is, buddy! Seems like you’ll have somethin’ to wire Mister Maxwell after all. Nothin’ o’ a newspaper yarn ’bout that bunch, let me tell the world. Must be all o’ twenty animals in that string with several boobs mounted on hosses an’ armed in the bargain, ’cause I c’n see the sun glintin’ from guns they’re holdin’ as they ride ahead o’ the line an’ in the rear to boot.”

“That goes with the rest of the story, Perk,” said Jack as he started toward a lower altitude as though wishing to secure a better view of the moving cavalcade in order to make assurance doubly certain. “You remember we read in that clipping how they carried an armed guard along to defend the caravan in case it was held up by a bunch of hijackers. Queer how these law-breakers make war on each other in cities, the wilderness, and even along the salt water coasts.”

“Huh! got to be a part o’ the game these days,” grunted wise Perk, “jest like the fish-hawk drops down with a rush, grabs up a fat fish from the lake or lagoon and in turn is robbed by the lordly eagle. I kinder guess now that’s about where they got the idea o’ hijackin’ – snatched a leaf from Nature in fact. But say, what are we goin’ to do ’bout this thing – why do you strike down closer, I want to know, Jack?”

“We ought to get a better look in, for one thing,” he was informed, “and if you could only work that little camera of mine once or twice so as pick up to a telltale picture of the caravan, it would be the finest evidence we could send by mail to Mr. Maxwell!”

“Glory! that’s a great scheme, boy – watch my smoke! I’m some photographer when it comes right down to brass tacks an’ I’ll prove it by gettin’ you the smartest pictur goin’ an’ that’s no lie either.”

Perk seemed to know just where everything aboard the big ship could be laid hold of in what he would call jig-time for almost as he spoke he was clutching the small but excellent camera that Jack owned, he being something of a crank along that particular line.

“I’m meaning to swing around once or twice while lowering the ship,” he explained to his companion so that Perk might not waste a single cartridge of film in taking a snapshot prematurely, with distance as a handicap.

“Go to it, partner,” sang out his mate quite merrily, “I’ll do my little bit when you gimme the word. Got her all fixed up for distance an’ the sun happens to be jest right – say, ain’t that a sweet sight, though with them mules cavortin’ like they might be scared by such a monster bird sailin’ over their stupid ol’ heads? An’ see the guards swingin’ around, shakin’ them guns at us like they meant to shoo us off by lookin’ fe-rocious! Zowie! but this is a heap int’restin’ I’m sayin’, eh Jack?”

“I bet you!” came the short answer, Jack being so taken up with staring at the greatly disturbed pack-train under the swinging airship that he could not find time for further words just then.

Not so loquacious Perk who never knew when to hold his breath since he was peculiarly gifted along that line and could work as well as gabble at the same time.

“Seems like they jest don’t know what to think ’bout seein’ an airship sailin’ over their heads,” he went on to say aloud, “an’ I kinder guess now some o’ them begin to smell a mouse. Think things ain’t goin’ to run so slick and greased as they’ve been doin’ right along. Another dip like that, buddy, ought to fetch me close enough to get the snap on the bloomin’ bunch.”

There he held up – for a brief interval. The fact was Perk had not run out of breath but was only so intensely occupied with trying to fix his little camera so that the lens would take in the whole of the lagging mule-pack train that he forgot to keep on speaking.

Really it did seem as though some kindly fortune had conspired to afford all possible assistance in order to successfully carry out this little racket on the part of Perk. Just as his waiting finger pressed the button the entire cavalcade came to a sudden stop. Indeed, if the actors, both two-legged and four-hoofed had intended to make a grand-stand play to the galleries they could hardly have bettered the conditions.

Perk did not stop at his first exposure but with a commendable rapidity turned on another portion of the reel and once again pressed the button, after which he burst into a roar of ecstatic delight.

“Got it that time boys, sure thing an’ I bet you all looked pretty for the set-up. Hoopla! Jack, that was a great snap you gave me an’ chances are, Mister – er, hey, what’s this mean?”

He bellowed the last few words and with a very good reason for something had come to pass that Perk had not reckoned on as part of the program. There was the sudden rattle of firearms from below and – the motor having ceased functioning while Jack continued his smooth dive – all around them could be heard a strange hurtling, hissing sound which an old experienced war veteran like Perk instantly knew must be made by savagely menacing bullets passing in close juxtaposition to their ship.

Then Jack had the situation in hand again as he pulled the stick back against his chest and with a shrill rat-tat-tat they were once more shooting at an upward slant through space, Jack putting his craft through all sorts of angles in hopes of further causing the sharpshooters to miss connection.

Perk had instantly dropped the camera, though luckily it did not go over the side as might have happened. Jack knew his mate was making a swift sweep with his hand and could give a fairly shrewd guess what his object might be, knowing Perk’s combative disposition as well as he did.

The worst of the danger was really past, since they had made such a speedy getaway after that first lunge. Anxious to hold the impulsive one in check, since nothing was to be gained from further aggravating the rum-runners, he continued to keep up that eccentric motion until they had climbed sufficiently to prevent Perk from starting hostilities on their side.

“Swing around and let’s go down once more partner,” implored Perk, keenly disappointed because his golden opportunity had given him the slip.

“Oh! I reckon it isn’t worth while,” replied Jack evenly as though not nearly so stirred up as his chum seemed to be and as he thus spoke kept on going, with the ship headed due northwest by north.

“But – see here Jack, you don’t mean to let ’em have the merry ha ha on us, I sure hope? Why, it’s got my blood het up to nigh the boilin’ point right now. On’y a little slip so I c’n reach the blamed bunch with my machine-gun. For ol’ times’ sake I’d like to pepper that crowd good an hard! The nerve o’ ’em, dustin’ us with that shower o’ lead! Might have bust our biler an’ then where’d we been, tell me? Jest one swoop an’ I’ll be satisfied. I could get in a dozen shots before they’d have time to crawl under their’ mules.”

But Jack was obdurate to his wild entreaties.

“No use Perk,” he told the other through means of the handy ear-phone apparatus. “They failed to do us any damage, though their intentions were plain enough and remember, ‘he who laughs last laughs best’. If your snapshot turns out fairly decent it’s bound to put a lot of those dangerous guys in the soup when Mr. Maxwell fits out a bunch of revenue men to round them up. In other words, brother, because of our little job today the chances are we’ve put the kibosh on this bootleg mule-train racket and for keeps in the bargain!”

XV
WINGING INTO THE NORTHLAND

Perk was still in a high rage because of their having been subjected to that shower of whistling lead.

“For two cents – if you ’lowed me to do it partner,” he boomed with many a shake of his head, “an’ swooped down once more, I’d a let loose on them pesky jayhawkers an’ rum-runners with my bully o’ machine gun. It’d seem jest like ol’ times come back agin an’ you bet I’d a pickled a few o’ the rattlesnake bunch!”

“Remember Perk, we’re not up here to pickle anybody. This is only what you might call a little side-show – the big round-up lies further north where we’ve been given a job to tackle – we’re just on our way – that’s the whole thing in a nutshell.”

As usual Perk soon calmed down, being sensible enough to realize that no injury had been done either their ship or themselves. They had met up with a stirring little adventure and come out of the row with credit which ought to be satisfactory, on their side at least.

“What dye s’pose them yaps think ’bout us flyin’ so low down over their heads like we wanted to take a peep at the mule pack train?” he presently asked the one at the stick.

“That’s something we can only give a guess at,” Jack told him. “They’re just naturally suspicious as all lawbreakers are and I reckon right now they’re likely comparing notes to try and get a line on our standing.”

“Huh! guess now you might mean whether they had anything to fear ’bout our ship or not, eh partner?”

“That’s the idea, buddy. Up in this part of the country air craft are a rarity, I should say and they must be a whole lot suspicious after having us dip down as we did. I don’t imagine any one saw that you were taking a snapshot of the pack train, for they had no glasses that I noticed.”

“Oh! that part worked okay ol’ hoss,” quickly announced Perk, “I didn’t make any show when I snapped the gun off but we sure got ’em guessin’ if I know my beans an’ I figger I do. If you don’t mind mentionin’ the fact partner, how do you mean to get in touch with Mister Maxwell so’s to let him know what’s goin’ on up here on these mountain trails?”

“I’ll find a way to do that before long,” came the confident answer. “Of course, he may not be able to lay a trap for this particular pack-train but they keep on coming, and like as not the next convoy will run up against a snag. Mr. Maxwell I imagine, is a corker of an operator, one who never lets the grass grow under his feet when there’s need for quick action. Some fine morning, after we get back from this trip, we’ll be apt to read all about how this rum-running business with mules carrying the stuff over the mountains, has been smashed to a powder and all the head men put behind bars.”

“Unless I’m away off my guess,” further remarked the loquacious Perk – who seemed wound up and just must keep going for so long before cooling off – “that clippin’ said somethin’ ’bout a warehouse on this side o’ the line. Reckon now there’s anythin’ in that report, Jack?”

“You’re a little off the track there, brother,” he was told. “No such thing as a warehouse was mentioned. It simply stated that it was believed the pack trains all centered at a certain point where they had big, powerful trucks in waiting to carry the smuggled cases to certain cities where they were in cahoots with the authorities – meaning of course, that the officers sworn to carry out the laws of the country and their own State, are taking graft and closing their eyes to what is going on.”

“Huh! nice kettle o’ fish when such things c’n go on with the jails so full now they’re turnin’ the real criminals out to make room for these pizen snakes in the grass.”

“That’s none of our business, Perk. We’re only a part of the Secret Service layout with our work mapped out for us. When we’ve shown up with results, that’s as far as we’ve got to consider – let the solons do the rest.”

Something in Jack’s decisive manner of saying this must have warned the talkative one the matter had been threshed out as far as was needful for the time being and that it would be just as well if they relapsed into silence so as to consider other matters that were really more important.

So Perk clamped on the lid and talked only to himself for a long time afterwards, a sport that generally afforded him considerable joy and satisfaction.

Time passed, with their ship keeping up its swift passage, now close to the tops of outlying ridges and anon passing over valleys so far beneath the voyagers that objects to the naked eye assumed very diminutive proportions.

No further mule pack-trains were sighted but then Jack had considered this fact and had no expectation of meeting up with a second caravan. Because of the existing necessity for guarding the high-priced booze they dealt in, so as to be prepared to resist an encounter with bandits known in the rum racket under the name of hijackers, the expeditions could only be sent off at stated periods and there might not be another for a week or two.

It was all pretty wild country over which they swept as on the wings of an eagle heading for the breeding places of its species far up toward the Arctic Circle and in due time Perk began to weary of staring down at such monotonous pictures.

Once they passed over a railroad and he felt thrilled by the thought that man’s ability to invade the most inaccessible regions of the earth had put a bit and bridle into the mouth of even so wild a horse as such a land could be compared to in the mind of a visionary fellow like Perk.

On they went, still penetrating deeper into the mysterious northland and heading for that isolated post of the Canadian Mounted Police that was said to be at the extreme edge of the uninhabited stretch lying south of those desolate barrens touching on the Arctic regions where, according to Perk’s way of describing things, might be found the jumping-off place that gradually fades away into the near Polar ice-cap.

It was as Jack had learned, a great country for pelts and with signs of gold cropping out of the soil in a myriad of places. The only living human beings likely to be met with would be lone trappers running lines of traps in the dreadful winter season, occasional daring prospectors and stray Indian villagers during the summer when they carried on their annual hunt for meat to be cured for winter use.

Here too, might be found in secret hideouts more than a few fugitives from justice – men who had fled from the long arm of the law and lived the lives of hermits, their hand against all others and compelled by necessity to play the part of desperadoes.

Such a dominating character as the Hawk would not be long amidst such surroundings before he gathered to his standard a select number of like bold spirits. These would be only too willing to follow him in his raids on the stores of isolated fur-takers, white or red, it mattered not, since all men looked alike in their eyes or making occasional more ambitious forays upon some outpost and trading center of the great Hudson Bay Company.

Even the Mounties it seemed had thus far been baffled in all their efforts to break up this powerful and elusive corporation of evildoers, so cleverly handled were the go-getters under the Hawk that they had a rare faculty for slipping out of any trap set for them, just as the Irishman’s flea never was where he jabbed his finger down.

It tickled Perk’s vanity considerably to think a problem that had so long been too much of a knotty one to be solved by those wonderfully smart members of the Mounties had now, after a fashion, been transferred to the shoulders of himself and comrade – that the stern resolution on the part of the Government at Washington to recapture the criminal who had given the penitentiary at Leavenworth French leave had so worked out as to form a sort of partnership between the Secret Service and the constabulary of the Great Northwest country.

Having himself served in the ranks with some of those Mounties, it was puzzling Perk tremendously as to just how his former comrades had fallen down on the job of bringing in the Hawk. He had always believed that they never failed to get their man, sooner or later, being ready to follow him to the Pole itself if necessary and to ease his worried mind of this strain he now, as usual, turned his batteries on Jack once more.