V
WHEN A COG SLIPPED
"What's up, partner?" demanded Perk who always admitted to being more orless curious-minded.
"Something I happened to pick up," replied Jack, grinning happily,"after that chap dived into his car and tore off down the street like ahouse afire."
"Huh! strikes me it looks kinder like a telegraph message buddy," Perkreplied eagerly as if he began to smell something like a fire burning.
"Go up head boy, you said it," his mate told him. "Here, read what itsays for yourself--you too, Cyclone, though it'll be Greek to you sinceyou don't happen to know the gent who sent it to Cheyenne."
Perk glued his eager eyes to the yellow slip of paper and as he took inthe printed words he held his breath--as if unable to fully grasp thewhole meaning of the message with only one reading, he started again,this time going over it aloud.
"Adolph Barkus, 173 Evergreen Street, "Cheyenne, Wyoming.
"Have received positive information they are in your city. Pay particular attention to the young flyer. Treat him with brotherly kindness and to please me take him for a nice, long ride. Keep me posted. Things down here in something of a snarl. Better drop in and report. I may need you the worst way.
"Kearns."
"Hot ziggetty dog! what d'ye think o' that measly rum-runner bobbin' uplike a floatin' cork to annoy us again?"
Perk gave all the signs of annoyance--he clenched his fist, frowned mosthorribly and drew a long breath as though his feelings threatened tooverwhelm him entirely.
"Oh! we landed that gent behind the bars all right," Jack remarked,taking things much more coolly than the excitable one, "but it's hard tokeep a man with a big wad of long-green shut up--he hires a celebratedlawyer, gets out on heavy bail, has his case postponed on one account oranother until witnesses disappear and the public forgets what it's allabout. Like as not he's as free as either of us, only it may be he'sforbidden to leave the State of Florida pending his trial--you noticethe message was dispatched from Jacksonville."
"From his getting on our track I kinder guess the gent must feel a bitpeeved at the firm o' Ralston an' Perkiser. Brotherly kindness,eh?--take him for a nice long ride--how swell that'd be--an' all jest toplease Mr. Oswald Kearns, the high light o' most o' the schemes hatchedup to run in case goods from Bimimi along the Florida shore."
Then Perk forgot his indignation long enough to grin as though thehumorous side of the case struck him.
"Such great luck I never did see," he burst out, "to think o' youpickin' up his telegram so pat after we'd kicked him an' his slinkin'pal off the lot. That's what I'd call incriminatin' evidence, partnerand if ever the case is called an' we're sent down to Florida to tell'bout our part o' the mess, this message ought to make the jury sit upan' take notice, sure as I'm born it ought"
"I'll keep it safe, you can well believe, Perk and I'm not bothering myhead about those two sneaks for they're not apt to give us any furthertrouble after what happened to them tonight. When this Mr. Barkusdiscovers how he must have dropped his fine telegram, he'll suspect itfell into our hands and the chances are he'll give us a wide berth therest of our stay in this burg."
"Jest so Jack, an' let's hope we're goin' to climb out o' here rightsoon now. The dirty scoundrels--wantin' to give you a _ride_, was they?Which means in these days take a feller off into the country, knock himon the head an' dump him out on the road like he was a log. Zowie! timesis out o' joint strikes me, when these pesky gangs think nothin' o'murderin' a man 'cause they don't like the color o' his necktie."
Cyclone had listened to this exchange of conversation between his twocompanions and the look on his face plainly told that he could not graspwhat it was all about.
"I'd like to get a grip on what all this clatter's about, boys, ifneither of you object. I ought to be starting back to Hollywood in themorning for they're shouting and sending hot wires telling me I'mholding up the show; but since I'm crazy to see that boat of yours, andyou promised me a little gallop up among the clouds, I'm bound to waitover till afternoon, no matter what happens to the bunch on theCoast--they c'n use my understudy till I choose to lope along and behanged to 'em. Now, what about putting me wise to the game that wassprung on you tonight?"
"Nothing to hinder our telling you what we ran up against down inFlorida last winter," remarked Jack and as they settled back in theirchairs in comfort he explained all about the mixup as recorded in theprevious volume of this series.
Cyclone proved an attentive listener, eagerly drinking in theparticulars--nodding his head approvingly at certain points thatappealed especially to his discriminating mind until the finishingstroke had been laid bare when he jumped up to shake hands boisterouslywith both Jack and Perk and to give vent to his feelings in words.
"By the great horn spoon! so that's the bully sort of life you fellersin the Secret Service lead, is it?" he exclaimed with flashing eyes andan expression of eagerness on his enraptured face. "Some fine day, afterI've had a few words with my director and told him where he gets off,I'll be hanged if I don't strike out for Washington and try to bore myway into the game you're following--suits my spirit to the dot--lots ofadventure, fair pay and the thrill of turning back these smart alecs whothink they own the world because they've got a speed boat and the jackto buy a load of hard stuff in the Bahamas that they figure on landingalong our coast."
"That mightn't be such a bad idea, Cyclone, for a man built like you andwho yearns for excitement," observed Jack sympathetically, for he couldunderstand just how the other must feel. "When you get to that point ofkicking over the traces in the picture game let me know and perhaps Ican speak a good word for you at Headquarters. They're always in need ofthe right sort of men. Remember that, will you, Cyclone?"
"You bet I will Jack, and I mean every word I say, too. I've never goneup in an airship yet, but the desire's been gripping me a heap latelyand perhaps, after I make the try tomorrow morning, that you've sokindly promised me, the fever'll get so high I just won't be able tohold back any longer."
"That depends on how you come through your examination," Jack plainlyexplained. "A lot of boys have an itch to make the riffle, but areturned down because they lack some one of a dozen requirements that arepositively essential these modern days to get a pilot's license. But asfar as I can see, you ought to pass with flying colors--no joke intendedeither."
They sat there chatting for several hours. Cyclone's enthusiasm fairlybubbled over at times as he listened to some of the accounts ofadventures that had befallen both Jack and Perk in days gone by.
"The more I hear from you boys the sicker I get over the way I'm wastingmy young life with foolish cowboy stunts and make believe fights in thepictures. It's pretty much a fake business and gets on my nerves--evenmany of the most thrilling scenes are fakes of the worst kind--pullingthe wool over the eyes of the simple public. I got a notion I'm builtfor something that's genuine and not a fraud--when you lads get into amess it's the real thing and you can put your heart in the actionwithout a director yelling at you and ordering it all doneover--sometimes as many as five times, till his royal highness issatisfied and you're all worn to a shred with the hard work. Bah! me forthe open and a life of genuine adventure, every time."
"Je-ru-salem crickets! but you have got it bad, partner!" croaked Perkgrinning happily as he spoke. "Goin' are you, Cyclone?--well, we'll pickyou up about nine on the way to the flyin' field. So-long--mighty gladwe run across you tonight and had a chance to see how you work, themfists o' yourn. The Service could make good use o' a few real scrappersand I'd say the chance o' you buttin' in is gilt-edged."
So closed a day that was not without its redeeming features, even Perkbeing satisfied that things were moving along the line of adventure andexcitement.
Wings Over the Rockies; Or, Jack Ralston's New Cloud Chaser Page 5
