CHAPTER VI
THE TEAR-BOMB ATTACK
It was certainly a thrilling moment for Perk as he crouched there in hisawkward cubicle back of the pilot and waited for the proper second toarrive when his accuracy at throwing the bombs would be tested.
Jack meanwhile had his hands full attending to his part of thebusiness--it was of course of prime importance that they should dropdown as close to the deck of the schooner as possible so the full effectof the bursting tear-bombs might be felt by those struggling smugglersand hijackers, but there was the mast of the cruising vessel to bear inmind since it towers many feet in the air.
To strike this spar would entail danger of a crash, or having theirlanding-gear torn away, which would prove a disaster. Consequently Jackheld himself in readiness to once more start his engine whensufficiently near the object of his attack.
Perk knew just when their downward velocity terminated, for not onlywere they again on a level keel, but the motor commenced working withits customary intensity and the whole fusilage quivered as usual whenthey were under way.
All this had consumed mere fragments of a minute and Perk had alreadydrawn back his hand to make ready for his first toss. It was hisintention to follow this up with a second bomb, hurled in double-quickorder, for a dual fire would make the results more complete.
Jack left it completely to his comrade to decide just when to let fly,relying on the lessons Perk had taken along those lines in order to makehimself as near perfect as possible. If it so chanced that their initialattack turned out to be futile, it was always possible for the fightingairship to swing around so as to permit a second attempt.
Much would depend on just how those who were struggling like mad wolveson the deck of the schooner to gain or retain possession of the spoilstook the attack from the air. Jack rather fancied they would be panicstricken at having a grim spectre of the skies descend on them like aplunging eagle and before they could possibly recover sufficient energyto strike back, the monster roc must have winged past, and the pungentgas started to affect their eyes, rendering them frantic with athreatened temporary blindness.
Then Perk began his share of the vicious attack. He followed out hisprearranged programme with machine-like movements, sending his firstbomb with such cleverness that it struck close to the stern, for Jackhad made his hawk-like swoop so as to pass completely along the entirelength of the deck--this in order to give his working pal a betterchance to fulfill his assignment.
Even before that missile struck, Perk had instantly changed the otherbomb to his eager right hand and in a rapid-fire way sent it, too,hurtling downward, to crash further on close to the bow.
Then they were speeding into space beyond the bowsprit of the anchoredrum-runner, with Jack starting to climb in order to bank and swingaround, so as to complete the job if his first endeavor lacked in anydetail.
Lucky indeed for the two aviators that they had their goggles on, elsethey too might have suffered from the fumes that so quickly spread inevery direction as though fanned by the night breeze. Perk afterwardsadmitted that he had caught a whiff of the penetrating gas despite thecovering helmet and close-fitting goggles but thanks to the haste withwhich Jack carried their ship past, the gas had little or no effect.
The clamor still continued, if anything, redoubled, for now the elementof fear had gripped the hearts of every man on board both boats as theyfelt that terrible, unseen agency stabbing at their eyes and making thestoutest writhe with agony and alarm, thinking they must be doomed.
Jack could easily comprehend why they should be demoralized under theprevailing conditions--there had been enough excitement in the air tostart with when the hijacker crowd boarded the rum-runner and joinedissues with the crews of the two allied boats but when from out of theskies there descended a swooping monster, apparently about to fall uponthem as might a stray meteor from unlimited space in the firmament, andthat strange, racking pain gripped their eyes, nothing but panic coulddescribe their condition with any degree of accuracy.
But one element was now lacking in the dreadful turmoil--Perk could nolonger detect the quick percussion of blows, as fists and clubbedfirearms clashed against human bodies backed by a fierce anger that hadbeen fanned into a blaze by injuries received and a sense of impendingvictory, with the spoils in sight.
Apparently every man among them was thinking of nothing save his ownindividual sufferings and terror--unable to see with any degree ofcertainty, they must be staggering this way and that, colliding witheach other and then one by one either falling into the water or elsejumping aboard the speedboat so conveniently nearby.
Jack had by this time brought the ship around again so as to head intothe wind as before. Perk, divining that this meant a second slash at themob on the sloop's deck reached out for another relay of missiles. Nowthat he had got started he was in prime condition to "keep the ballrolling" until there did not remain a single hijacker or smuggler aboardthe rum-runner.
But Jack, more inclined to pity than the former war ace, did not makethat second dip--he had a good idea the punishment thus dealt out withtheir initial swoop would be severe enough to clear the deck and set thelate rival forces to quitting the vicinity of the ill smelling sloopwith the utmost speed, regardless of the means employed to accomplishsuch a retreat while the going held good.
Perk could hear splash after splash, as though the frenzied sufferers intheir agony had been seized with the possibility of cooling water beinga sovereign remedy for the ills that had so suddenly gripped theiraching eyeballs.
Perk was chuckling to himself, even as he continued to crouch there, andheld a third tear bomb ready for instant use when Jack was pleased togive him a fitting opportunity to throw it.
"Zowie!" he was telling himself, "if that don't make me think o' thetimes when us boys lined up on a dock and made the dive, one right afteranother--plunk--plunk--plunk! Go to it, you terriers--swim for theshore, boys, and good luck to you all. Our job'll be to pick up therum-boat with her juicy cargo, an' hand her over to some Governmentofficial Jack knows about around these diggings. High--low--Jack an' thesmugglin' game--that spells the hull thing I kinder guess!"
Perk was by no means so lacking in sagacity not to understand just whyhis comrade was hanging fire and keeping at a respectful distance fromthe sloop. He wished sufficient time to elapse so that most of thepenetrating gas from the tear bombs would be carried off on the nightwind and it might be reckoned safe for them to go aboard.
He could vision the terrified hijackers after their speedy plungeoverboard managing to find their several boats and dragging themselvesover the gunwales with but one thought in their bewildered minds, andthat to put as much distance between themselves and the rum-runner aspossible.
He even told himself he could catch the sound of splashing and oarsworking madly in the locks, although this may have been only imaginationon Perk's part, but for one thing, he did glimpse a moving light andcould detect a chugging movement such as would accompany the ingloriousflight of the speedboat, racing for some shore harbor.
Silence followed, as though all the human elements in that late wildtumult had managed to leave the scene of their defeat. Still Jackcontinued to swing around in a short circle, showing how even with thespoils of victory close within their reach he could keep to his standardmaxim of "watch your step!"
Minutes passed, and it went without question that the penetrating gasmust be well swept away by the night wind so that it would be safe forthem to board their prize and take a quick inventory of the illicitcargo.
Perk knew the time for action had arrived when he felt the plane headtoward the surface of the gulf, as though it was Jack's intention todrop just back of the sloop's stern when they could taxi alongside andreadily climb to the low deck.
There was nothing surprising about their coming in contact with thesurface of the water--Jack had acquired a habit of making perfectlandings whether ashore or with pontoons. Knowing this, Perk neverlooked for anything else.
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nbsp; They came down with hardly any more of a splash than a pelican mighthave made and almost instantly Jack started taxiing ahead in thedirection of the nearby anchored sloop.
Perk had set the third tear-bomb down with the belief that there wouldbe no necessity for his using it. Silence hung about the sloop, and hehad decided there could be no one around, unless, when they clamberedover the side, they should discover some poor chap who had succumbed tothe provoking gas or else been stunned by a blow in the wild melee thathad raged previously.
Just the same wise old Perk did not mean to be caught off his guard andso he dragged out a formidable looking automatic, supplied by the SecretService to all its accredited agents as a means for compelling asurrender on the part of any "wanted man" when overtaken in his flight.
The head-phones had been disconnected so there was nothing to hinder aprompt boarding of the captured boat when Jack gave the word. With theglorious flush of victory thrilling his whole frame Perk stood by tofend off as they drew close to the squatty stern. It would be his dutyto clamber out on one wing and get aboard, carrying a rope by means ofwhich the floating airship could be secured to the water craft.
This he managed to accomplish without much difficulty, wondering whileso doing whether he and Jack might not be making history, for hesuspected that never before in the annals of aviation had an amphibianplane been afforded a chance to take a prize of war in such an originalfashion as bombarding the enemy crew with tear-gas bombs and causingthem to flee in mad haste.
It was an exultant Perk who stood erect on the deck and waved his flyinghelmet with the proud air of a neophyte hunter planting his foot on thebody of his first slain lion or tiger.
Eagles of the Sky; Or, With Jack Ralston Along the Air Lanes Page 6
