“Which tickles me a heap, boy—I’m just yearnin’ for comin’ to grips with that gazaboo o’ a Slim; and now we’re on to the job I’ll never be happy ’till he’s on his way to that big Government pen we glimpsed in Atlanta, where some other lads we helped to pinch are doin’ time.”
“Well, if you keep on as you’ve started, Perk, we’ll flatten the whole gang like pancakes—they’ve stacked up against a new sort of revenue dog when they started a shooter of your calibre on the trail. First you smashed their searchlight, and then sent a chuck of lead into the gas tank that broke up the game. That’s the kind of a pinch hitter you are, partner; and right now I want to congratulate you on such dandy marksmanship.”
“Lay off that stuff, Jack—nothin’ but great luck fetched the bacon home for this lad. But me, I’m shakin’ hands with myself ’cause I had that hunch a bear gun mightn’t be such a bad thing to tote along on a trip that’s goin’ to carry us across the border, an’ into Old Mex, like as not; where the greasers are sometimes tough nuts an’ hard to handle they tell me. ’Spose we’ll run across them two hill billies again, partner?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if we did,” replied the pilot, leveling off at a three thousand foot ceiling, and still heading due southwest. “Like as not they’ve got plenty of ready cash along; and after having been so cleverly upset in their calculations, due to your beating them silly with a barrage of hot lead, they’ll be hot to wipe out their disgrace. Oh! yes, we’re going to run up against that foxey pair again before the book is closed for keeps.”
CHAPTER VII
STRIKING THE FOG BELT
With the stars shining brightly above them, and a moon just past its full climbing the eastern heavens, having dissipated the darkness of the earlier part of the night, Jack and his fellow voyager continued plunging along in a very satisfactory fashion, having no reason for feeling further concern regarding the peril to which they had been so lately subjected.
But things were not destined to continue so comfortably for the two adventurers, it seemed. Perk was just congratulating himself for about the fourth time at having such a comfortable flight, when he sat up and took notice of the fact that those heavenly bodies were beginning to look exceedingly hazy.
“Danged shame, that’s what, to spoil such a dandy night!” he muttered.
“What ails you now?” demanded Jack, on hearing the other make this little remark that bespoke exasperation at least; “another boat on our tail?”
“Well, I guess not just now,” replied Perk, scoffingly; “one was more’n enough for a single jump. But we’re agoin’ to run into a pesky fog belt, sure as you’re born, old hoss!”