So, too the night was passing by degrees, with their reliable Fokker keeping steadily on its way, putting miles after miles in their wake. Perk found himself growing more and more anxious for the first streak of coming dawn to show itself far off in the east, where the sun must be climbing toward the unseen horizon, and daylight making ready to disperse the cohorts of night.
Still it was always possible for him to make out the next beacon, with the aid of his binoculars, if he happened to be using them, as was often the case.
An hour and more after their “rubbing elbows” (as Perk termed it,) with the south-bound air-mail plane, once more Perk caught a suggestive beam of light ahead that told of yet another aircraft afloat, and advancing swiftly toward them, only at a much lower altitude.
“Naow I wonder who that guy kin be,” he mused, while watching the light grow steadily larger. “Some kinder big ship in the bargain; but hardly one o’ the mail line, ’cause they doant run ’em in doubles the same way. Hi! there, partner, we got a second neighbor, agoin’ to pass under us in a minit er so. Jest a bit to the left—no danger o’ bangin’ noses this time, seems like. Gettin’ to be thickly populated, as the ole pioneer settler said when a new fambly moved in ’baout ten mile off. Mebbe we’ll live to see the day when the air o’ night’ll be studded with movin’ lights thick as the stars be—looks thataways to me, anyhaow.”
Again he signaled his good wishes with his lantern, showing as much glee as a schoolboy whirling around his first fire spitting Roman candle, on the night of the Glorious Fourth.
“Gee whiz! looky, partner—they’re answerin’ me, as shore’s yeou’re born! This is gettin’ somewhere, I’d say; an’ I’d give thirty cents to know who that guy might be.”
“Just as well there’s no way to exchange cards,” sensible Jack told the excited one. “Never forget for a minute, partner, who and what we are; and how it’s a prime part of this business to keep our light hidden under a bushel right along. Others flying for sport, or carrying on in commerce, may get a thrill from exchanging names, and hobnobbing with each other; but all that stuff is strictly taboo with men of the Secret Service.”
“Squelched again!” Perk told himself, with one of his chuckles; “an’ jest as always happens, Jack, he’s in the right—I’m forgettin’ most too often what goes to make up a successful officer of the Government, ’specially in aour line o’ trade. Guess—I mean I reckons as haow I’ll have to subside, and take it aout in thinkin’.”
Perk was certain they must have long since passed over the eastern extremity of Georgia, and were even then swinging along with South Carolina soil beneath them. Yes, and he began to figure that he could detect the faintest possible rim of light commencing to show up far off to the east, as though dawn could not be far away.
“Huh! aint agoin’ to be many more o’ them bully flash beacons lightin’ us on aour course,” he was telling himself. “Chances air we’ll be bustlin’ over aour objective right soon; when it’s goodbye to the air-mail route, an’ us a turnin’ aour noses near due south, headin’ fo’ Charleston on the seaboard, when the real fun is slated to begin. Caint come any too quick fo’ a boob that answers to the name o’ Gabe Perkiser. Yeah! that line is gettin’ some broader, right along, which tells the story as plain as print.”