Next the two laden trucks pulled out, and could be heard bumping along the road, to take their chances of getting through without being stopped by either high-jackers or revenue men.
“Makin’ straight fo’ that same corduroy road as runs plumb through the marsh; an’ headin’ due north, too,” Perk further told himself, seeing that evidently trying to talk with his chum was taboo for the time being, “Goin’ up to Baltimore, I reckon, whar they got a big taste fo’ strong stuff, ’specially sech as comes in from abroad—reg’lar goods, with a big kick backin’ same. Huh!”
Jack had for some little time been looking earnestly first at the nearest campfire, and then diverting his gaze, seemed to stare over to where the outlaw plane rested. It was as though it might be waiting for some particular event, when possibly it would start off, after taking aboard certain valuables that would come by another airship from some point in the West Indies, evading the customs, and giving a rich bonanza to whoever was interested in thus beating the Government revenue.
“I say, Perk,” he whispered in the ear of his mate.
The other must have sensed something of unusual importance coming, for he displayed considerable eagerness as he moderated his own voice to its very lowest pitch, and made answer:
“On deck, suh!”
“That plane—I’ve been noticing how it’s left high and dry there,” Jack was saying, significantly, Perk thought.
“Shore is, suh,” the latter went on, invitingly.
“I figure that any clever lad might be able to creep close to the same—coming along by that line of bushes you can notice on the side away from the fires, and the big searchlights they use when a ship is taking off at night.”
“Easy—reg’lar snap, I’d say, suh.”