“Seems like the joke’s on us, Perk, old boy,” he began.
“Joke hey? Bart Hicks played one on his unsuspectin’ guests then, did he?” Perk grumbled as if terribly upset. “I didn’t think he was that sorter cad.”
“Oh! you’ll take that back after you find out what I meant by the word ‘joke’,” Jack hastened to assure him. “Listen, partner, I’m going to read you the whole letter, because it’s no easy job to get the hang of Bart’s handwriting. Reckon he wasn’t great shakes at penmanship when he went to school, for he does spell something fierce, but I’m going to keep this, all right, for it’s a cinch Bart outsmarted two fellows who reckon themselves some clever at their business. But listen and grab what he says here.”
“Go to it, old hoss,” begged the waiting Perk most eagerly.
“‘Hats off, boys—I’m on to your curves okay. Happens I got a younger brother a holding down a job in the same crowd you run with—mebbe you remember young Doug Hicks, him that fetched in all by his lonesome the four ginks makin’ up that slick gang of international crooks doin’ business as the Keating Bunch’—what d’ye think of that, Perk, Doug Hicks turning out to be the kid brother of our new friend, Bart, isn’t that the limit though? Well he goes on this way: ‘He often mentioned both you lads in his letters to me, and when you introduced yourselves I just knocked wood, but didn’t let on I got the drift of things. But say, don’t you worry any, boys, I’ll never leak a drop, so your secret is as safe as a new dollar bill. Go to it, and fetch in Buddy Warner, for if anybody can do that, it’s bound to be you two. So-long. Your friend, Bart Hicks, all wool and a yard wide.’”
Perk was making all manner of queer faces as though this wonderful disclosure had taken his breath away but through it all there struggled that happy-go-lucky grin of his, to proclaim his full appreciation of the contents of the flying field test pilot’s unique communication.
“Jest what that gink is—all wool and a yard wide—honest goods, you bet every time,” he finally managed to say with numerous chuckles accompanying the words. “Sure we know Doug Hicks, the boy who’s goin’ to make a name for himself in the Secret Service one o’ these days, if he don’t get bumped off by some hijacker’s lead. Queer what a little ole world this anyhow—kickin’ up against Bart Hicks in this jumpin’-off part o’ the country. We sure do strike the strangest happening in our line o’ work, don’t we?”
“We certainly do,” came the quick reply as Jack folded up his letter and put it carefully away. “While you’re doing duty brother, I’ll get busy with some calculations I have in mind. Keep her headed just as she is, and in half an hour we’ll bank and come back along a parallel line, so as to cover all the ground up and down, up and down, through the whole day.”
It was gruelling work, but the only possible thing they could do if they meant to make certain that they had investigated every rod of that terrible terrain that lay on every side, looking as though at some remote time in the past, nature had been turning things topsy-turvy and making a mad havoc with the entire land of gigantic rocks and sink holes.
So two whole hours crept along with a number of abrupt turns, now north, again south, steadily covering the ground. But sad to say there had as yet been discovered nothing to breed sudden hopes and expectations. Haze there had been in patches, owing to some humid condition of the atmosphere in certain quarters, but never the first sign of friendly smoke curling upward in spirals, nor yet a glimpse of any sort of half concealed mountain lake such as had been described to them by Bart Hicks.