They were bobbing in and out of the fleecy drift clouds, just as that other ship had done, almost indistinguishable from the ground, being about two miles up, when Jack thus called out.
Perk had been taking account as to the amount of fuel yet remaining in their tanks, and was amusing himself doing some sort of calculation with a stub of a pencil and a pad of paper.
“Yeah! what is it, boss?” he sang out, looking over to where his mate sat at the stick, with the exhaust racket of both motors cut-off effectually.
“We’re just whiffing over that delightful little ghostly bayou you fell in love with; and heading so as to pass above the region from which we heard that unseen ship settle down.”
“I reckoned that was so, partner; go ahead an’ say what’s on yeour mind.”
“There’s one thing that so far has escaped our scrutiny,” spoke up the pilot, with Perk quickly adding:
“Meanin’, I reckons, suh, we aint seen nary a sign o’ any sorter vehicle sech as mout be atakin’ the stuff to market—is that so, suh?”
“Good guess, all right, for you, Wally, boy,” replied Jack. “Pick up your glasses again, and keep an eye on the ground down below. If by good luck you light on anything suspicious, let me know; because I want to see for myself, as it might help me figure out certain things worth while.”
“Ay! ay! Cap; here goes!” Perk told him, suiting the action to the words with the greatest eagerness.
Jack loitered somewhat, not wishing to skip over that prospective battlefield too speedily, lest it fail to reveal some of its most valuable secrets; accordingly he circled while still sticking to the cloud screen, now in and out like a fluttering butterfly amidst the thistle blooms of an old quarry.