Now that the coast was clear, and he had made the discovery calculated to prove so fortunate, as well as useful, Jack could think of other matters less important and yet really necessary.
He got out their “bait-box,”—as Perk always called the receptacle of their food supplies—and proceeded to enjoy a ham-sandwich, washed down with the hot coffee already sweetened, and with genuine cream added; thanks to Perk’s “pull” with that favorite waiter in the San Diego restaurant, and whom he had mentally promised to reward some fine day, in a way commensurate with the service rendered.
Jack took his time.
He always did when eating, and consequently never knew those qualms along the line of indigestion, which occasionally doubled poor, hasty Perk up with such violence. Moreover, he seemed to be enjoying his novel breakfast vastly, a fact that tickled the other more or less, for Perk certainly did enjoy seeing others happy.
From time to time they exchanged words. Of course their talk was wholly connected with the serious business on which Uncle Sam had dispatched them, and which they were now following out as best they could.
So early in the game it was of course wholly impossible to lay their plans save vaguely; as they picked up further information they could, as Perk was fond of saying, “advance the spark,” and build some sort of a structure calculated to bring down the enemy’s fort in ruins, unless indeed, they managed to turn the tables on the two sleuths.
As they thus chatted at their ease while swinging around in a succession of short circles, the centre of which was always that conical heap of jagged rocks Perk humorously called Castle Thunder, the name of Simeon Balderson naturally came up.
Perk had himself been doing more or less pondering upon the unknown fate of the Secret Service man, who was, so Jack had informed him, a most valued agent of the Government.
“I jest caint help awonderin’ what made him fall daown on his job that a ways,” he mentioned to his comrade; which of course was Perk’s method of trying to draw the other out, so as to imbibe Jack’s way of reasoning.
“That must, as I said before,” came the reply, “remain a dead mystery to us unless we happen to run across the answer while poking around. He was up against a tough bunch, and if they discovered what he was doing the chances are they’d put him out of their way in the easiest possible fashion—throwing him over some precipice, or shooting him full of holes. That’ll come to us in the bargain, I reckon, if we’re unlucky enough to slip-up, and fall into their hands.”