After that there seemed to be some sort of a horrible fascination about the wheeling line of feathered scavengers, so that at every opportunity, when an opening presented itself, Perk just stared, and stared, frequently stumbling awkwardly over an unnoticed object, and almost losing his balance.
Jack noticed this fact presently, and felt called upon to warn the other.
“Keep your eyes more on the ground, partner, and do less sky gazing,” he told Perk in a low but distinct tone. “A tumble might give you a bad hurt; and besides, we can’t afford to make any sort of racket, you know. Never mind those rotten buzzards—what do we care about their carrying-on.”
Perk suspected that Jack had himself guessed what ailed him, from the way he connected the sailing of the uncanny crew with his companion’s erratic actions. At any rate it rather abashed Perk to realize his weakness could be so readily observed; so he braced himself up, and tried to give a low laugh.
“That’s okay, Jack; I’ll be a heap more keerful. We got to do this grand creep as slick as grease, with them pesky kiotes keepin’ their ears to the ground for s’picious noises.”
As the subject of Simeon’s possible raw deal had fastened itself on his mind, Perk continued to speculate regarding the personality of the missing Secret Service agent. The subject grew more interesting the further he went, and in the end he even asked Jack a question that was bothering him.
“Yeou says as haow yeou knowed this guy Simeon some, didn’t yeou, partner?”
“I only met him a few times about a year back while in Washington; but at that took quite a shine to him,” Jack explained, as Perk nudged up against him, both having stopped to rest after negotiating an extra difficult stretch on their climb.
“He must a been a fair good chap then, I guess, partner, eh, what?”
“I liked him,” Jack added, concisely; “and they thought well of him in the Big Chief’s offices.”