He lost no time in creeping inch by inch along toward the right, having apparently figured out that such a course would give them a better all-around opportunity to gratify their curiosity.
It proved to be a wise move for presently they managed to glimpse what seemed to be the corner of a small cottage, built of coquina rock and altogether attractive in appearance, proving that the Big Boss never hesitated to spend money when he could secure results.
“Huh!” gurgled Perk, stretching his neck so as to see better through the narrow opening that served them as a lookout, “some toney, strikes me, considerin’ the desolate country round-about this section. Must be his high-hat tastes foller him, no matter where he goes–sorter dude, I’d call him, partner.”
“That may be,” agreed Jack, “I understood he ran in that groove but just the same they say this Kearns is a real he-man an’ can put up a warm scrap when necessary–the dude racket is only a thin veneer hiding the genuine article. I was warned never to let him get a chance to beat me to the draw–some call him a rattlesnake, only he lacks that reptile’s honesty in always giving warning when about to strike. Don’t forget, Perk, in dealing with this slick article you’ve got to be on your guard every minute of the time.”
“Glad you told me that, Jack, I might a’been fooled, an’ treated him as a soft guy. Looky thar, will you, boy–two–three fellers jest swarmed out o’ the shack an’ gone into a huddle like they had some sorter game to set up. Wonder now if one o’ the bunch could be him!”
“I reckon not, Perk,” came in a low tone from Jack, whose head was only a few inches away from the other’s, “none of them answer the description that was given to me. I even saw a snapshot taken of several society folks in front o’ his Miami castle, with him standing in the center. One of this lot’s the flying man connected with that crate–you can see he’s still wearing his greasy dungarees and has his helmet on his head, like he expected to be hopping-off any minute now; a second chap is short and thick, not at all like the one we’ve come so far to buck up against, while the third, while tall, looks like a roughneck skipper of a speedboat.”
“Guess you hit the nail on the head, Jack,” muttered the convinced Perk, for they were at some little distance away from the consulting trio, and their whispers could never have been heard with the dead leaves on nearby palmetto trees keeping up their harsh clashing when whipped by the gusts of wind.
Both of the spies must have had a host of speculations passing in review through their active minds as they lay there watching the conspirators so earnestly talking and gesticulating. From time to time Jack and his chum would cast further glances in the quarter where the trim aircraft lay anchored, bobbing up and down like a restive horse eager to be off.
What did they fetch on their voyage through the upper air lanes, coming from some unknown port–hardly “case stuff,” Jack told himself, since space aboard the Lockheed-Vega crate would be limited–then it must be either yellow Chinks trying to crash the gates of the country that banned some of their race as undesirable aliens, or possibly the winged courier carried a batch of precious stones from far-away Paris, forwarded in a round-about, surreptitious way and intended to reach a ready market in the wealthiest country in the world, of course, without paying the usual heavy customs duty–which saving alone would likely reach well into six figures.
The trio seemed to have finished their discussion, whatever its nature might have been, for they sauntered down to the edge of the water where the man in the dungarees proceeded to embark by means of a small boat that he could leave secured to the mooring rope of the amphibian when he took off.