“He’s a good one, or I’ll eat my hat!” he burst out, as they were “cutting a blue streak” once more through the growing darkness, and he could see those suggestive flashes again punctuating the gloom in their track. “Jack, he’s started that racket again, don’t you know; and any second we may get a slug in our belly, bustin’ things all to flinders. Try a razzle-dazzle on the boob, old broncho!”
So making a bank, Jack changed his course, running at right angles, and if anything at a faster pace than ever. Perk had the situation “sized up to a fraction,” as he himself would have called it; he realized that it was only through the greatest of good luck they had escaped being hit by one of those flying missiles; and that so long as the mysterious enemy kept using their ship for a flying target they were in constant peril. Despite all this ducking and dodging on Jack’s part he did not seem successful in throwing the pursuing craft off the track. To be sure the darkness was gradually growing thicker with every passing minute, and this seemed to be their only hope of crawling out of a “hot hole,” according to Perk’s calculations.
Perk afterwards frankly admitted that he was frothing at the mouth on account of finding himself up against a situation where the cards seemed stacked against him—where his hands were tied as it were, and that reckless pilot, chasing after them hell-bent, held all the trumps.
“No use tryin’ that game any longer, Jack, boy!” he yelled suddenly. “See the glim all ’round us, partner—sure as you live they’ve even got some kind o’ a searchlight aboard, just like they’d planned all this thing out beforehand. Guess now it’s up to Little Perk to put a plug into their game. Hold her steady a bit, boss; I’m meaning to make ’em sit up an’ take notice they can’t hog all the fun going. Watch my smoke, Jack, old hoss.”
It was a delicate situation without any doubt; for if those aboard that little Ryan plane, taking advantage of the halo of light covering the craft they followed, continued to make use of their rapidfire gun, the danger of a hit had vastly increased; but Perk must have some sort of scheme in mind it was evident, or he would never have asked his chum to steady the badly wobbling boat when such action only doubled their peril.
Calmly and deliberately, as though simply bent on fetching down a deer he wanted for his next camp supper, steady old Perk had his faithful gun up to his shoulder, and was sighting that piercing glare of light that marked the bow of the pursuing aircraft, betraying the presence of a searchlight.
Possibly owing to the clamor of their own working motor Jack could not tell when his companion unloosed a fusilade of shots; but he did know that something suddenly changed the situation, and to their advantage; for as though a blanket had been tossed over the piercing ray the illumination abruptly ceased, leaving them to continue their wild flight shrouded in encompassing darkness.
Then, too, the sound of Perk’s exulting yell was quite enough to tell the story of his success in finding a glowing target for one of his several missiles—the old sharpshooter had evidently lost none of his cunning by reason of a lapse in action.
“Set ’em up in the other alley, boys—give your Dutch uncle a chance to show an old trick or two! Now will you be good, or must I give you another smash in the jaw—better haul off while the haulin’s good, fellers—I’d sure hate to make you crack up, and fade out!”
Even though his clever shot had doubtless utterly smashed the searchlight, and put it out of business, that bothersome rapidfire gun was still in working order, as Perk discovered when once more those insistent flashes, following closely upon each others’ heels, announced a fresh barrage, with the unseen, unheard hissing bullets doubtless whizzing all around them.