"We've gathered in the booze," Perk was saying proudly, "or most of it anyway, together with the rum-runner, and one o' the crew to turn State's evidence, so what else could we wish for—I for one don't feel greedy. Plenty more where this one came from, and the smuggling season is long. What we got to pay most attention to is liftin' the lid, so's to find out just who the big guns are, backing this racket an' chances are we're on the right road to doin' that this very minute."

"That's correct, Perk, but let's get a move on and be going."



CHAPTER IX

ENGINEER PERK ON DECK

Everything else being in readiness Jack and his muscular comrade started to work the deck winch in order to get the anchor "apeak," as Perk called it, being desirous of showing off with his limited knowledge of things nautical.

"She's amovin' okay, old hoss!" gasped Perk who had been doing considerable straining, anxious to display his ability as a mudhook lifter. "A few more good pulls an' we'll have the old gink where we want it."

The task being completed, the sloop began to move backward, very much like those fiddler crabs Perk had watched retreating before his attack on one of the sandy Florida beaches.

"Looks like I'd better go aboard our ship and get away from here before anything happens to disable a wing," Jack hastened to remark, sensing possible trouble which would be in the nature of a serious calamity just then.

"Go to it then, matey," Perk told him, light-heartedly enough, "I'm ready to do my stuff as a half-cooked engineer. Don't worry a bit about my gettin' there with both feet if the bally motor only holds together. Don't like its looks any too much, but then Lady Luck seems to be givin' us a heap o' favors, so we're goin' to finish after the Garrison style—heavy on the home stretch."

Before Perk reached the last word his chum had gained his seat in the cubbyhole of the amphibian, and almost immediately called out:

"Cut that rope and let me get away, partner—hurry up before I get another and harder bump!"

Ten seconds afterward the airship was entirely free from contact with the drifting sloop. Then came the roar of the motor showing that Jack had given her the gun. Instantly there was a forward movement of the amphibian, which increased rapidly until it was rushing along with great speed presently lifting its nose toward the heavens and leaving the rolling surface of the gulf, soared aloft in repeated circles.

Perk, after seeing that his pal was well on his way, turned his attention to his own job. He had no particular trouble in coaxing the engine to start, although it did considerable "grunting" as though its joints might be rusty and in need of lubricating oil, thus telling that the late skipper had allowed his engineer to neglect his duties in a climate where the salt in the air always rusted the inside of gun barrels, machinery of all descriptions, and in many ways played havoc with exposed metal parts.

However, after the engine got well warmed up it began to work more smoothly so that Perk lost some of his first anxiety.

"Goin' to get along okay I guess," he assured himself and then, keeping the prow of his vessel headed due south, he found time to try and discover where Jack and his soaring crate might be.

The engine was a gas motor and well supplied with an abundance of fuel, since the winds on their recent voyage around the Florida Keys must have been favorable as a whole and with the motive power idle there had been no drain on the gas.

Perk was feeling prime at that particular moment in his checkered career. It afforded him much pride to thus be in sole charge of a captured rum-runner with a cargo of contraband aboard. Then, too, all doubts concerning his ability to serve as an engineer were already dissipated for the sloop was making fair time and carried a bone in her teeth, as the white lines of foam running out on either side attested.

Perk was softly singing to himself some marine ditty he had picked up in the course of his adventurous life afloat and ashore and which had for a title "Rolling Down to Old Mohea"—it thrilled him to the core to feel that he was luckily able to afford Jack just the assistance the other required so as to perfect his plan of campaign.

Now he believed he could glimpse the amphibian overhead—yes, the moon, poking her nose out from behind a bank of clouds, allowed him to make certain—Jack had swung back and was circling, so as to keep the sloop within range of his vision.

"Just like a guardeen angel," mused the enraptured Perk, standing at his post and sending frequent curious as well as proud glances aloft, "as he told me he meant to be. Say, ain't this simply great stuff we've struck?—never felt so joyous in all my life as when I smashed them two tear-bombs down on the deck here an' busted up that fightin' mob. Zowie! how quick they got a move on, every single man but the one lone dickey we found knocked out down below-stairs. Ev'rything movin' along like silk—who cares whether school keeps or not, with us boys on the top wave o' success."

Then he concluded to stop premature boasting, knowing very well that as in a game of baseball nothing is settled until the last man has been put out.

So the voyage down the coast continued steadily enough, the minutes running along into hours, with faithful Perk keeping steadfastly at his new job.

From time to time he would find the plane hovering directly over his head, and was able to catch certain signals which he could understand because of a previous arrangement he and Jack had.

Although the moving sloop was not over a mile or so from the shore line, it was next to impossible for Perk to catch a fleeting glimpse of land, so as to get his bearings.

"Huh!" he told himself at one time after he had received instructions to draw a bit further toward the open gulf, as he was approaching some point of land jutting into the water, and thus making a shoal possibly covered with coon-oysters, on which he was apt to pull up hurriedly with disastrous results, "this here is like flyin' blind at a five thousand-foot ceilin',—Jack, he c'n see the land by usin' the night glasses, so it's a good thing I c'n get tips from him right along. Gee! this sure is gettin' some monotonous, keepin' this old motor hummin' when it's on the blink so bad. Must be a wheen past midnight, I'd say, an' we ought to be clost to them Ten Thousand Islands by now."

He had been keeping close watch on the stars and although making no claims to being a first-class woodsman, Perk could tell the time of night by the heavenly bodies setting one after another, which would account for his late confident assertion that morning could not be so very far distant.

Once only during all this time did Perk happen to see a far distant light out at sea. It interested him more or less and naturally caused him to speculate as to whether it might have any connection with the great game in which he and Jack were now engaged. Everything he had ever heard or read connected with the Mexican Gulf seemed to pass in review through his active mind—there was a halo of romance hovering about that historical sheet of salt water and while Perk was not much given to flights of fancy, he found himself picturing some of the thrilling scenes he had recently read about, after learning that the next locality in which he and Jack would play their adventurous part was along the Florida Gulf Coast.

Then he suddenly found himself listening intently, for above the pounding of the old motor, with an occasional "miss" to break the monotony, he fancied he had caught the signal Jack was to give him when the time arrived for making a turn toward the coast.

"Bully boy, Jack!" Perk cried out when he found that he had not been deceived. "I'll be right pleased to drop this tiresome job an' think myself some lucky to miss havin' the tub run on a reef, or the bally motor kickin' off an' quittin' cold. Yes, an' there's what looks like a bunch o' cabbage palms stickin' their tops against the sky-line. Better slow up, Perk, old scout, afore you hit some stump or get aground off shore."

So he throttled the motor a bit and fairly crept along. He even found himself wishing he had fixed things so that the prisoner might stand by with a sounding pole in the bow of the sloop to sing out the depth and give warning of sudden shallows but it was too late now to attempt such a thing, even if he had dared take the chance of the fellow jumping overboard and either drowning or getting ashore to give warning as to the menace hovering above the operations of the far-flung smuggler combine.

But fortune was still kind and presently Perk found himself softly gliding past the outermost mangrove islands. Here, he remembered, it was his duty to come about and lay to until Jack could drop down and taxi over to where the sloop lay so as to consider their further plans in the coming dawn.



CHAPTER X

TAMPA BOUND

"Congrats, Perk," said Jack, as soon as he came close enough, "you did the thing up in first-class shape. If all other jobs went back on you I reckon you could get your papers along the engineering line. A bit tired in the bargain I take it, partner?"

"Lay off on that stuff, matey," replied the other, scornfully, "me, I never get what you'd call tired, but jest the same I'm right glad it's all over an' the rotten crate didn't get sunk out there—hate to lose all this bottled juice we come by in such a queer way. Climb aboard, Jack, an' let's have a little talk-fest while we rest up."

"Later on I'd be glad to do that," he was told. "We'd be wise to push further in among these islands before morning comes along if any sponger or fisherman happened to glimpse this pair of odd sea and air craft he'd spread the story far and wide and get us in Dutch. I'll fasten a tow line on to the ship here, if you'll toss me a coil and taxi away back where there wouldn't be one chance in a thousand of our being seen."

"I get you, buddy," Perk hastened to say, as he made ready to toss the bight of stout rope to his waiting chum, "and it's all to the good with me. Dandy luck we've been havin' for a fact, on'y hope it keeps on that way to the finish line. Here you are, Boss!"

After Jack had made the small hawser fast he started the taxi stunt and presently they were moving past the outlying clumps of mangroves with never a bit of trouble. Perk made himself comfortable by throwing his really fatigued form flat on the deck and stretching his muscles to the limit.

This continued for some little time until finally Jack shut off his power and came alongside, ready to climb aboard the sloop.

"We'll tie her up to this nearby clump of mangroves, where you'll notice there's a bunch of tall palmetto trees growing, showing there must be ground, such as few of these islands can boast. I'm picking this place especially because those cabbage palms will keep the mast of the sloop from sticking up and betraying its location to any flyer passing over."

"I'd call that a mighty fine idea, partner," declared Perk enthusiastically. "Never would athought o' anything like that myself—my old bean don't work along them lines I guess. An' when I've done that camouflage act again nobody ain't agoin' to spy out a single thing down this-aways. Great work, if I do say it myself, Jack old boy."

After he had managed to fasten the bow of the sloop to one of the palmetto trees, Jack crawled aboard. He must have also felt more or less tired, after being caged in the small confines of the cockpit so long, for he followed Perk's example and dropped down on the deck to stretch out while they exchanged opinions.

"None too soon for our safety," was the first remark Jack made, "see, there in the east the sky has begun to take on a faint rosy tint which means the sun must be making ready to rise."

"Things are workin' just lovely for us, I'd mention, old hoss," suggested Perk, with one of his good-humored chuckles that told how well pleased he must be on account of the many "breaks" that persisted in coming their way. "Let the mornin' come along when it pleases, it don't matter a red cent to us back here in this gloomy solitude."

They started to exchange opinions concerning the remarkable happenings of the night just passed and in this way many things that had not been very clear to Perk were made plain. On his part he was able to offer several suggestions that added to the stock of knowledge Jack already possessed so that it was a mutual affair after all.

"I rather reckon somebody's going to get a surprise packet when I finish explaining just how this contraband sloop and cargo fell into our hands," Jack was saying at one time, apparently vastly amused himself. "Fact is, I wouldn't blame the Commissioner for believing I was drawing the long bow when he hears about those tear-bombs you tossed out that scattered the crowd like I've heard you tell a shell used to do when it dropped into a dugout over in the Argonne."

As they lay there taking things easy, the heavens in the east assumed a most wonderful range of various delicate tints that made even Perk gasp with admiration. Birds started singing, mocking birds and cardinals among others, crows could be heard cawing close by as though there might be a hidden bird roost not far distant. This was corroborated later on when streams of white egrets flew past, scattering to find their morning meal.

So, too, circling buzzards could be seen far above as they searched for signs of a feast in the shape of a dead fish cast ashore on some sandbar or mudbank—a heavy plunge not far away told of a monster alligator that had been lying asleep on some log, taking a dive as he noticed the presence of two-legged human enemies whom he had reason to suspect of designs on his life.

"How about a little grub for a change, partner?" demanded Perk, after they had been talking for quite some time.

"I reckon it wouldn't come amiss," admitted Jack; "but if you've got any idea of starting a fire and making coffee, better throw that overboard right away, for in the first place you'd find it a hard job to run across any solid ground among all these mangrove islands and then besides it might not be the wisest thing going to send up a column of smoke to attract attention to this quarter. Get that do you, Perk?"

"Y—es," admitted the other, with a disconsolate shrug of his shoulders as if he had no liking for the scheme being thus tabooed, "s'pose it's jest like you put it, Jack, though I own up I was hopin' we might make a pot o' coffee. Just the same we got plenty o' fresh water along, even if it is sorter warm an' coffee'd taste just prime, but I c'n stand anything when necessity drives. So let's get our teeth in some eats without botherin' further, 'cause I'm half starved an' them sandwiches'd go fine."

Accordingly they started operations, Perk clambering aboard the amphibian to fish out the package of "eats", he knowing best where it had been secreted on the previous evening after they had supper near this same spot.

As they munched their dry food they continued to talk, finding plenty of subjects bearing on their work that would be the better for further study.

"There's only one way we can arrange things so as to keep our clutch on the spoils we've rustled so far and do our duty according to orders."

"I kinder guess I c'n smell a rat already, Jack," chuckled Perk as he wrapped up the remnant of the food supply which he had taken from their main stock—"I'm the goat in the deal—you figger on me stayin' here in this 'gator hole to stand by the ship an' knock the block off'n anybody what tries to get away with our property—how's that for a straight hit square in the bullseye?"

"Go up head, Perkiser—you got the answer first clip, for that's just what has to be put through. I'll start off presently and make a bee line for Tampa where they told me our immediate boss, Colonel Tranter, is stopping with his sick wife. I'll make my report direct to him and take further orders. He'll like enough detail a couple of revenue men on duty along the East Coast to come back with me to where you're lying here so they can take the sloop and her wet cargo to Tampa to be given over to the proper officers who will see that no clever smuggler has half a chance to run away with her."

"I c'n easy enough see how you've thunk ev'ry thing out, an' on'y need a little time to put the scheme through with a rush. Tell me, Jack, will you be apt to get any further lines on the way things stand down here?—there was some talk, I 'member, about them bein' able to give us a few pointers concernin' them higher-ups the Government is so anxious to cage so as to break this whole gang up for keeps."

"Certainly, I intend to ask about that very thing," came Jack's ready reply, "and I'm also in great hopes they'll be able to add some news worth while, that, in conjunction with what we already know, or suspect, will put us sleuth hounds on the hot trail of the big millionaire they feel certain has been the main backing of the whole ugly bunch while keeping in the background himself all the while. They're depending on you and me, Perk, to produce the evidence that's going to convict him of conspiracy against the Government, which may send him to Atlanta for a dozen years or more."

"Know how long you'll be away, Jack?" demanded the other casually as if it was really a matter of but little moment to him what the answer might be, since he could be depended on to hold to their booty with the tenacity of a leech.

"That all depends on circumstances—I may be back by noon, and again not till late in the afternoon or evening. I expect to fetch a couple of sandbaggers along who will take over the sloop and stuff that's aboard. Having washed our hands clean of those encumbrances we'll be in fit shape to delve deeper into the game and see what we get out of the grab-bag. Anyway, don't expect me until you see me heading this way and keep a sharp lookout, for from all accounts this crowd we're up against is said to be a tricky combination, always stepping on their toes and doing big things."

"Yeah, we've heard lots o' that kind o' stuff but just the same the lads makin' up the crew o' this sloop didn't keep their eyes open, or they'd never been taken unawares by them hijackers. Leave it to Gabe Perkiser to hold fast to what he's got; they'd have to be a regiment, armed with machine-guns, bombs, an' even gas, to knock me off'n my perch an' I don't mean that for boastin' either, Jack."

Later on Jack decided it would be just as well for him to jump off and be on his way to Tampa. Contrary winds or something else might delay his arrival, and an early start was bound to be of much help toward bringing a quick return.

He first used the binoculars in order to scan the heavens as well as they could be covered when he was so surrounded by those strange mangrove islands and discovering no sign of any cruising, spying crate, he bade Perk goodbye and taxied in the direction of the open gulf, which he knew lay due west.

Perk answered his signal ere the amphibian turned a bend in the tortuous channel and saw Jack vanish from view; nor could he long detect any sound to indicate the presence of an airship since cautious Jack had again made use of that wonderful "silencer" which they had found so useful while conducting their search during the preceding night. Then the appointed guardian of the captured contraband sloop turned his attention to matters which had to do with his making the tied-up craft as thoroughly invisible from the upper air as he knew how.



CHAPTER XI

PERK HOLDS THE FORT

First of all Perk set about getting the one boat that had been left aboard the smuggler sloop into the water as he would need it for conveying his green material with which he intended to cover the exposed deck.

There was little trouble about accomplishing that and when he dropped into the rowboat with a pair of excellent oars in his possession, he felt considerably encouraged.

So he started to poke around, hoping to run across some island that was more than a mere patch of the omnipresent mangrove tangle. This he succeeded in doing without much loss of time and his pleasure redoubled at finding a mass of dwarf saw palmetto that would yield him a plentiful supply of fronds with their queer serrated edges such as would stab cruelly unless one took care to handle them properly.

Here, too, were some young palmetto trees with the new leaves within easy reach. Working with a vim Perk speedily loaded his small boat with green stuff, after which he returned to the sloop and proceeded to scatter his material to the best advantage all over any exposed part of the contraband vessel.

It necessitated a second trip before he felt satisfied for whatever his shortcomings might be in other respects, Perk always tried to fulfill his whole duty whenever he tackled a job.

By the time he had finished he was "reeking wet" as he called it, with "honest-to-goodness sweat," not perspiration, but it was worth all it cost to be able to feel that the sharpest vision on the part of a sky pilot passing over the spot, and even equipped with powerful binoculars, would not be able to detect the presence of the sequestered runaway sloop.

"Good enough," he told himself, as he lay down to rest a bit and scan the blue heavens so as to learn whether there was any sign of a cloud chaser from horizon to horizon where the clumps of mangroves allowed him a clear vision.

Several times he gave a little start, and proceeded to strain his eyes so as to make doubly sure, but in every instance the moving dot he had noted far away to the north or nor'east proved to be a circling buzzard, keeping up his eternal weaving to and fro in search of a belated breakfast after his own peculiar kind.

So the time passed, and Perk even dozed, lying there amidst his "Palm Sunday greens," as he fancifully called the camouflage stuff, for the climbing sun kept getting warmer, and induced somnolence, especially after such an eventful night as the one he and Jack had just passed.

Later in the morning he sat up, took another cautious look around at the clear sky, and then proceeded to enjoy a good, old-fashioned smoke, for Perk was a lover of his under-slung pipe a la Dawes.

Noon found him thus, picturing his chum arriving at Tampa and interviewing the Government official who could give him what assistance he required so as to turn over the captured sloop and the contraband it carried, both above and below decks.

At one time Perk out of curiosity—as well as a desire to be in a condition to state the amount of spoils he and Jack had "corraled" in their swoop upon the fighting smugglers and hijackers—took a pad of paper and a pencil and proceeded to go over the entire vessel, securing a rough invoice of the numerous piled-up cases bearing that foreign, burnt brand.

Then a temptation gripped him, and, as he took another "eyeful" sweep of the azure arch overhead, to again find the coast clear, he tortured himself with the vision of a pot of boiling coffee to go with his otherwise dry midday snack of lunch.

"Huh! no use talkin', I jest can't stand it any longer—got to have my coffee if I want to keep happy as a clam at high tide. Nothin' to prevent me paddlin' across once more to where I got these here greens. I noticed heaps an' heaps o' dry wood, broken branches, stems o' palmetto leaves an' such dandy trash for a quick fire. Might as well tote the machine-gun along, so's to be ready for anything that comes—it could be a frisky twelve-foot 'gator wantin' to climb me or mebbe one o' them sly painters I been told they got down in this queer old country. Anyway, here you go, Perk, coffee pot an' all."

He was soon busily engaged in building his little fire, hoping no hostile eyes might detect the trailing smoke ascending above the tops of that palmetto clump. Then came the pleasing task of watching his coffee pot as it stood on the tilting firewood, a job that required constant vigilance if he hoped to save its precious contents from spilling.

Presently the odor began to fill him with delight and later on he found himself sitting cross-legged, like a Turk, and swallowing gulp after gulp of the amber fluid he loved so well.

Taken altogether it proved to be as satisfactory a little lunch as Perk had partaken of in some time. After finishing the entire contents of his coffee pot, he concluded it would be just as well for him to clean up, destroying all signs of the fire, and return to the sloop.

He had good reason to shake hands with himself because of this exhibition of caution, for later on, as the afternoon began to lengthen, with the sun starting down toward the western horizon, he suddenly began to catch faint sounds such as sent a sudden thrill through his whole nervous system.

"Dang it if I ain't hearin' somethin' right like human voices," he told himself, cocking up his head the better to listen, and applying a cupped hand to his right ear. "Yep, that's a fact, an' over in that quarter to boot," nodding toward the northeast where his instinct told him the mainland must lie, even if some miles distant.

So, too, he decided later that the suspicious sounds kept growing louder, from which fact he judged the speakers were slowly but surely approaching his hiding place.

"All right, let 'em come along," Perk muttered grimly as he clutched that deadly little hand machine-gun with which he could pour a rain of missiles in a comparatively speedy passage of time. "They can't ditch me, I kinder guess, an' nobody ain't agoin' to grab this crate if I have to shoot up the hull mob o' galoots."

Nevertheless, since there was always a fair chance that the secreted sloop might escape discovery, Perk finally concluded to dispose of his own person, at the same time meaning to keep in readiness to give the intruders a hot reception, did the occasion warrant such a course.

Then he could hear what he knew to be the splash of oars, and squeaking sounds of the row-locks. But he had already discounted this fact, knowing as he did the impossibility of anyone ever reaching the fringe of that vast wilderness of mangrove islands in which many a fisherman had been lost, never to find his way out of the myriad of zigzag channels without the possession of some manner of boat.

On they came until finally Perk realized they were just around the corner, for he could pick up every word that was uttered as well as see specks of foam from the working oars as it carried past, the tide being on the ebb just then.

"Told yuh it was a steamer runnin' past thet sent up yer smoke trail, Zeb," a harsh jeering voice was saying, accompanying the words with a string of oaths as though he felt more or less "mad" because of the exertion necessitated in working at the oars so long and on a bootless errand at that.

"Wall," came another drawling voice in which keen disappointment could be detected. "I judged it shore lay in this direction, but like yuh says, it must'a ben a steamer out yonder on the gulf—mebbe thet rev'nue boat they done tole us to watch out fur er else some o' them spongers frum up Tarpon Springs way. Anyhow, I got all I wants o' exercise so I move weuns call hit a day an' get back to the shanty."

"Yas, thet's the best thing we kin do," agreed the other, with a snarl in his heavy voice, "we got heaps o' work ahead tonight, if so be thet Fritz airpilot does drop over with his batch o' yeller boys like weuns been told he'd do. I'd like tuh see the whole caboodle o' Chinks dropped inter the middle o' the gulf, I hate 'em so, but thar's good money in the game, we happens tuh know, Zeb, which I jest caint hold back on nowhow. Les go!"

Greatly to the relief of the listening Perk he heard the sound of splashing gradually recede until finally it died away completely. This gave him a feeling bordering on relief, for while Perk was an old hand at the fighting game and stood ready to give a good account of his ability to defend their prize; at the same time he had no violent desire to open up on the two occupants of the unseen rowboat nor yet was the idea of the sloop being discovered at all to his taste.

"Lucky lads you might count yourselves if on'y you knew how I was layin' right here in ambush, ready to sink that boat an' make the biggest sort o' a splash. An' I'm guessin' I got off right smart 'bout that cookin' fire racket, come to think of it—might a'spilled the beans all right, and made all sort o' trouble for our crowd."

Talking in this fashion to himself, Perk again set about taking things comfortably nor did he ever hear of that pair again. Still, he treasured up in his mind what he had heard the man with the harsh voice say in connection with the smuggling of unwelcome Chinese immigrants who were ready to pay so well for an opportunity to beat the Government regulations in their eagerness to join the foreign colony in Mott Street, New York City, where the vast majority of them were bound. It would naturally interest Jack when he heard the news, although it could hardly be considered startling, since they already knew full well this sort of thing was being carried on by daring airplane pilots in the service of the far-flung smuggling combine.

By now it was well past the middle of the afternoon. Light fleecy, white clouds had been drifting up from the direction of the Dry Tortugas and Key West but this far they did not look at all portentous, as though any kind of a storm might be brewing. Perk hoped that would not turn out to be the case since they had work planned for a part of the coming night, which would be greatly hampered by unsettled weather.

Then, on making one of his habitual observations of the upper air, he discovered a moving speck that he soon decided must be a plane heading in his direction. At first Perk fancied it must be Jack on his way back, but later on he realized the air craft bore a great resemblance to the Curtiss-Robin boat which they had figured belonged to the Hun pilot, Oscar Gleeb.



CHAPTER XII

ODDENEMIES FACE TO FACE

"Je-ru-salem crickets!" Perk told himself as he stared, "I do b'lieve that's the same Curtiss-Robin crate we saw before, an' making direct for this here section o' the map in the bargain! Now I wonder what he wants to barge in for when things seem to be doin' their prettiest for us fellers? Guess I'd better get ready for boarders. If that smart guy took a notion to swoop down for a close-up o' these mangrove islands, he'd be apt to pick me up, 'specially if he happens to own a pair o' glasses, which stands to reason he sure does. Huh! what a bother. Better be slow 'bout foolin' with a buzz-saw, that's all I c'n say to him."

No sooner said than done, which was Perk's usual way of playing the game. He changed his position for one that offered less chance for discovery and while about it Perk started to build up something in the shape of a formidable fortification.

"What luck to have all these logs lyin' around when I need them," he went on to tell himself with many a dry chuckle. "Guess now they had 'em aboard to pull the wool over the eyes o' any customs men that happened to board the sloop lookin' for contraband stuff—meant to claim they was fetchin' mahogany logs to a States market. Gee whiz! they sure are a tough proposition to move around but here's the cutest little fort any playboy could wish for. Let him come along—who cares a red cent what he does, so long's I got this here machine-gun with plenty o' cartridges in the belts to riddle things with. Ring up the curtain, an' let the play start. Makes me think I'm back in the old line again along the Argonne, an' say, jest 'magine how it all works out with one o' them same Hun pilots swooping down on me! It sure is to laugh, boys."

By this time the oncoming plane was drawing perilously near and Perk wisely settled himself so that he could see all that occurred.

He possessed a pair of marvelously keen eyes and while it would have simplified matters considerably had he been handling those wonderful binoculars, just the same he could get on without them.

By close application he was able to see a figure bending over the ledge of the cabin window, apparently scrutinizing the queer combination of mangrove patches and crooked water passages between. The plane was rushing down a steep slant in a clever dive, or glide, so that with the passage of each second the chances for the pilot to make a discovery increased.

"Gosh! but ain't this the life, though?" muttered the watcher, thrilled to the core with what was hovering over his head yet not so much as making the slightest movement that would attract attention. If discovery must come, Perk was determined that no act of his would hasten it along and no responsibility for the tragedy—if such there followed—could be laid at his door.

He had discovered some time back that the rival crate resembled their own, in that it was in the amphibian class—could hop-off either from the land or when on the water.

Really he had taken it for granted that such would turn out to be the case, since occasions without number must arise when, for instance, the smugglers wished to take alien Chinamen from some schooner or speedboat by means of which the first part of their journey to the Promised Land had been carried through, when it would be necessary for the plane to drop alongside the boat from Cuba or other foreign ports and make the transfer.

The prospect was far from displeasing to Perk—he felt positive that it would be the first time on record when one of Uncle Sam's Secret Service men fought it out with a taxiing seaplane on the subtropical waters of the great gulf.

The outcome of course was hidden behind a haze of mystery—one, or both of those engaged might never live to tell the story but then that sort of uncertainty had been his daily portion during his thrilling service on the French front and its coming to the surface again after all these years of less arduous labor only made Perk hug himself, theoretically speaking.

Now the flying ship was passing directly over his place of concealment, although at rather a high ceiling. Would the Argus-eyed pilot make any suspicious discovery, or, failing to do so, continue his scrutiny along the many leagues of similar mangrove islands stretching far into the south?

Perk saw him pass the spot, which caused him to imagine the game was all off, and he would have nothing but his trouble for his pains. Indeed a sense of heavy disappointment had even begun to grip his heart when he saw the other suddenly bank and swing as though meaning to come back again.

"Zowie! kinder looks like he did glimpse somethin' that struck him as wuth a second scrutiny," chuckled the anxious watcher, that delicious thrill once more sweeping over his whole frame.

Indeed, it was a moment of more or less suspense, although Perk was telling himself he did not care a particle whether the smuggler pilot discovered the mast of the sloop, with its camouflaged deck below or not.

He was only hoping that the other might not take a notion to fly overhead and try to drop some sort of a miserable bomb down upon the spot where things looked a bit suspicious to him. Possibly Perk still seemed to get a faint whiff of the tear-gas that had drenched the smugglers' boat at the time he himself hurled those two bombs with such deadly accuracy and the possibility of being himself made the target of a similar attack was anything but pleasing for him to contemplate.

This time the Curtiss-Robin sped past not much more than three hundred feet above, so that he could plainly make out a head, with its protecting helmet, earflaps, and goggles, that was projected from the cabin.

"Darn his nerve, if he ain't wavin' his hand to me to say, 'I see you little boy, you're it!' Spotted me, danged if he didn't, by ginger! an' now the fun's a'goin' to start right along. Wow! this is what I like, an' pays up for a wheen o' lazy days. How the blood does leap through a feller's veins when he feels he's in action again. Oscar, old boy, here's wishin' you all the compliments o' the season an' I hereby promise to send back whatever you throw me. Go on and do your stuff, old hoss—I'm on to your game okay!"

He found further cause for congratulation when he made certain that the plane was now headed for the smiling surface of the little bay close by, showing that the pilot intended to make his little splash, and take a look at the hidden sloop with its illicit cargo of many cases that had been so mysteriously snatched from the hands of those with whom he was in close association.

This was as Perk would have it if given any decision in the matter. Once the amphibian started to taxi toward him and they would be placed on the same footing, each with a machine-gun to back him up and former experience in handling such a weapon equally balanced. Could anything be fairer than that, Perk asked himself, preparing for business at the drop of the hat?

The plane had made contact with the water and was floating there like an enormous aquatic fowl of some unknown species. Now the pilot was making a right turn as though meaning to come down on Perk with the western breeze—his motor was keeping up more or less of a furore, which told Perk that shrewd though these up-to-date contraband runners might be, at least they had slipped a cog by failing to keep up with the inventions of the times, for undoubtedly this pilot had no silencer aboard his craft to effectually muffle the exhaust of his engine.

However, this was no time to bother about such minor things when the main issue was whether he was destined to "get" the ex-war ace, or the other put him out of action when the battle was on.

Perk shifted his gun so that its muzzle kept following the moving seaplane in its advance. Let Oscar but make a start in his projected bombardment, and Perk stood ready to answer with a similar fusilade that must rather astonish the other, for as yet he could have no assurance that the concealed sloop was manned—doubtless he would figure the seized craft had been hidden here and temporarily abandoned until such convenient time as the captors could return with recruits and run it to some port where the confiscated shipment might be turned over to the proper authorities.

Just the same Oscar Gleeb might think it good policy to make sure of his ground by spraying the boat's deck with a round or two of searching missiles before attempting to board it.

Whatever way the cat was going to jump, Perk knew the issue was bound to be joined before many more seconds slipped past, and he held himself ready.



CHAPTER XIII

WHEN GREEK MET GREEK

The seaplane had stopped short, although its engine still rattled away as vehemently as ever. Perk understood the reason for this—Oscar may have been a hot-headed youngster away back when the great war was on, but apparently his later experiences had cooled his blood to some extent and he did not mean to be too rash.

Doubtless he could by this time plainly make out the sloop which was so skillfully concealed, especially from the air above, and there may have been a sufficiently menacing air about it that called for caution. He was not such a fool as to blindly walk into what might prove to be a clever trap, set by a bunch of those despised Government workers to catch him napping.

Accordingly he considered it good policy to hold off and pepper the sloop from stem to stern before taking any further steps at doing any boarding and seizing it for its rightful owners.

Then again, in order to get the best work from his firearms and have his hands free, he knew he should fix matters so he could drop the controls and pay strict attention to his other job.

Perk was lying low, holding himself in readiness for action. He believed he would be amply protected by the logs he had piled up, but just the same he did duck his head involuntarily at the first crack of the machine-gun the pilot of the Curtiss boat was handling so lovingly, as though it might be an old and valued "baby" in his estimation.

But just the same Perk could not allow any misunderstanding to keep the other in ignorance of how matters stood—he had sent out his impudent challenge, and Perk was quick to accept it.

So the din was further increased by a second barrage, chiming in with perhaps its notes ranged along a little higher key, but on the whole playing skillfully and merrily its own part in the mad chorus that reigned.

How the chatter of those two rapid-fire guns did carry on, with the splinters flying every-which way as the missiles tore them loose from the logs and the coaming of the sloop's deck.

Perk was compelled to do most of his work while keeping his head down, lest he be potted in that rain of bullets the other fighter was pouring in on him. Consequently he could hardly be expected to do himself full justice. Perhaps Oscar on his part was working under a similar disadvantage, for he really had little in the way of a barricade to intercept the shower to which he was being subjected.

Lucky for him he had shown the good sense to stop his advance with considerable distance separating him from the hidden sloop—had they been closer there was not one chance in ten that some damage would not have placed his seaplane out of commission, even though the pilot himself escaped death.

Then suddenly a white flag shot up from the sloop's breastworks. Oscar, with the gallantry such as had ever distinguished the air fighters on both sides in those days that tried men's souls, ceased firing.

"Give up?" he was bawling, as the rapid-fire guns both became silent, while their hot barrels cooled off a bit.

"Not so you could notice it," Perk shouted. "Jest wanted to exchange a few words with you, if you're Oscar Gleeb, an' it's true that you was a live-wire over there in France an' the Argonne—say, is that all to the good, Mister Pilot?"

The other did not answer immediately. Plainly he must have been considerably astonished at the queer turn the engagement had taken; and then again possibly he did not exactly like the idea of being compelled to acknowledge his identity, fearing it might be only a trap to ensnare him in the meshes of the law he had been defying so flagrantly.

"What's that matter to you?" he finally yelled testily, so that Perk began to suspect he must have touched up the other with one of the bullets that struck the seaplane.

"Oh! nothin' much," sang out the complaisant Perk, cheerfully, "on'y I wanted to let you know I was over there in the same line and had the good luck to send down a few o' you Hun pilots in a blazin' coffin. Wondered now if me'n an' you mightn't a had a private scrap o' our own in them bully times. Allers did hanker to have a talk-fest with you, sense I heard 'bout you bein' one o' them bloomin' hot Junker pilots."

A hoarse laugh greeted this amazing sally of Perk's.

"Say, what sort of a crazy gyp are you to want to talk things over while we got this scrap on?" bellowed the helmeted man in the shot torn cabin of the amphibian. "That's our boat you're standin' on, and we need it in our business, see? Give you three minutes to clear out, for I'm comin' aboard. Get that, Kamarad?"

"Sure thing, Oscar old hoss, but when you do it'll be feet first, for I'm fixed to fill your carcass so full o' lead it wouldn't need any cannon ball to sink you if you died at sea. So mind your step, Mister Pilot—jest been gettin' my hand in so far, but what's comin' next'll be a whole lot different, bet your boots!"

The other did not show the white feather but immediately set to work once more with his weapon. No sooner was its chatter "on the air" than Perk started giving his own gun a chance to show its worth. This made it lively again and once more those aggravating splinters began to scatter, worrying Perk not a little, for strange to say he dreaded lest one of them find lodgment in his anatomy and this troubled him much more than the possibility of being struck by a speeding bullet.

It was quite warm while it lasted, but presently Perk realized that the opposition had suddenly ceased. Being a polite man and always pleased to meet his antagonist on even terms, Perk also stopped firing. If Oscar had decided to advance once more and try conclusions at close quarters where it would be give and take, he, Perk, could prove himself a most accommodating chap.

Sure enough the engine of the amphibian had started up with increased vigor and Perk, cautiously lifting his head, saw that the plane was really in motion. But it was also veering to one side, which action might mean either one of two things—that the other had had quite enough of this exchange of hot fire and was pulling out, or else that in his crafty German way he was meaning some sort of flank attack in hopes of carrying the fort.

Faster and faster was the taxiing airship rushing through the water and Perk continued to hold his fire, realizing that the fight was over.

"Go to it, Oscar old hoss!" he burst out, as he grasped this clinching finish of the strange engagement with the rival gunmen separating after a hot exchange of compliments, each apparently able to move off under his own steam, "Beat it for all you're worth while the goin' is good. There, he's lifted his crate in one big pull an' I kinder guess he ain't hurt much either, else he couldn't show so much steam. Wall, here Perk's been left in possession, after all that bluff he put up. But it sure was a dandy jig while it lasted."

At that Perk began to laugh as though the true perspective had flashed before his eyes for then, and later on, too, he was ready to declare that a more ridiculous as well as unprofitable battle had never been waged between two rival pilots of the upper air lanes.

Now the fleeing ship had mounted to a fair ceiling and was rushing off in a roaring zoom but Perk noticed his late foe was heading due east as though bent on picking out an entirely different direction from the one he had used when coming with an impetuous rush to investigate the mysteries of the mangrove islands.

"Huh! that strikes me as a bit queer," Perk was telling himself as he gazed after the ship, now growing smaller and smaller as it placed miles between them. "Looks like Oscar might a remembered a mighty important engagement he ought to keep. Oh well, I've had my little shindig, and it's just as well we both came through okay—them as 'fights an' runs away, may live to fight another day,' that old sayin' has it which is sure a true thing. Hey! what's this mean—seems like I didn't come through as soft-like as I figgered I had—blood on my hand, yep, an' on my face ditto. Guess one o' them nasty zippin' bullets must a creased my ear, and fetched the juice a little. Shucks! nothin' to bother about I'd say."

He took his old red bandanna and dabbed at his right ear with many a grunt as well as chuckle.

"Seems like it's the only time I've weltered in my own gore for a coon's age," Perk was saying as he looked at the stains on his faithful if faded rag that had been his close companion on many a long flight through fog and storm, wintry cold and summer heat. "But then I got a notion Oscar must a'been nipped, too, mebbe a whole lot worse'n me. Honors are 'bout even, I guess, and if ever I do run across that lad again I'm meanin' to shake hands with him, jest out o' consideration for the fox an' geese game us air pilots used to play in the big ruction over there."

By chance Perk turned his gaze in another direction for he no longer found any interest in keeping tabs on his late antagonist whose ship was now growing dim in the distance, having entered among a bunch of fleecy clouds.

Hardly had Perk turned his head than he gave utterance to a low cry.

"What do I see but another crate humping along this way, an' outen the no'th in the bargain?" he observed, with ill concealed eagerness in his tones. "Could it be Oscar, an' the other skunks got 'em a hull fleet o' airships to carry on their trade o' smugglin' in licker, diamonds an' Chinks that want to get in this country more'n they do the yeller man's Paradise? Oh! rats, what'm I thinkin' about—wake up, Gabe Perkiser, an' use your noodle like it was given to you to handle. To be sure that second plane is our own bus, with my pal handlin' the stick. An' I guess Oscar must a glimpsed him headin' this way, which made him reckon this wasn't the healthiest place in the country for a feller o' his size, so he skipped out pronto. Yep, that's my pal for a cookey, I'd know his way o' handlin' a ship in a dozen an' as far as I could lamp the boat."

On the whole he was extremely glad to see Jack returning, although also pleased to know he had had his little frolic in a miniature battle that for the brief period of its life had been able to give him a most delicious thrill.

He watched the oncoming ship grow in size and noted the significant fact that its approach was so lacking in all the customary racket that deafens the human ear.

Then presently a hand waved to him, Jack swung around and dropped with a little splash upon the water—just where Oscar had so recently left it—to taxi along and pull up close to the camouflaged sloop.



CHAPTER XIV

THE COAST GUARD MEN

Perk made a discovery just then that afforded him more or less satisfaction. This was the fact that apparently Jack's mission to Tampa had not been in vain for he could see several heads in the cabin of the amphibian beside that of his best chum.

"Huh! 'pears like Jack fetched through okay, an' has ferried some guys back with him to take this stuff off'n our hands," Perk was muttering, even as Jack started to clamber aboard the sloop, being closely followed by a couple of determined looking young men.

"Back again, brother," Jack observed, as he clasped the extended hand of his partner, then, gave a queer grimace upon taking note of the splintered coaming of the sloop as well as the badly pockmarked barricade of mahogany logs. "Say, what's all this mean, I want to know—looks like you might have been mixed up in some sort of rumpus while I was away!"

Perk grinned and nodded his head cheerfully.

"Had a heap o' fun, old boss, an' got loads o' thrills out o' it. Mebbe now you noticed some sort o' crate just vanishing among them clouds off toward the east as you breezed along?"

"Thought I did," came the immediate reply, "but the visibility was getting poor, and I couldn't be sure it wasn't a buzzard, or even an eagle ducking in and out. What's it mean, Perk—was he kicking up a mess around here?"

"You said it, partner, an' his name was sure Oscar—Oscar Gleeb, 'cause he got mad as hops when I asked him, an' told me that wasn't any o' my business. But we sure did have a nice hot spell, Oscar'n me."

"Yes, and I reckon now you got your old right ear touched up again, Perk, for I can see streaks of half-dried blood running down your cheek."

"Yeah, he nicked me okay, an' if this keeps on much further I'll soon be taken for the Manassa Mauler, 'cause it'll gimme a cauliflower ear. Who are these two lads, Jack—look like they might belong to the Coast Guard."

"Just what they are—meet Tom Cairns and Red McGrath, who have been sent along with me to take charge of this contraband and hand it over to Mr. Philip Ridgeway, temporarily in charge of the Treasury Department interests along the West Coast here, with headquarters in Tampa—this is the fine pal you heard me speaking about a few times, boys—Gabe Perkiser, commonly known simply as Perk, a veteran of the big scrap over in France where he flew one of those sausage observation blimps, and was later on considered something of an ace in our flying corps."

So Perk gladly shook the hands extended to him, grinned in his genial fashion, and from that moment on they were as brothers all.

"While we're stretching our legs, after being cooped up in that cramped cabin for some hours," suggested Jack, whose curiosity had naturally been aroused by the multitude of signs all around indicative of a warm session, "suppose you sketch your little adventure for us, Perk. And I want to say that Oscar was pretty much of a fool if he reckoned on snatching this boat away from an old fighter like you, when you had a nice new machine-gun to back up your claims."

"Shucks! he showed the right stuff for a scrapper," expostulated the honest Perk, anxious to give credit where credit was due. "We stopped the barrage at one point to have a little chin, but unable to agree, we jest started all over again. An' I kinder guess I must've notched the critter some, for he hauled off an' skinned the cat by kickin' out. I was jest tellin' myself it sure turned out to be a good thing he didn't have any Chinks aboard at the time, 'cause they might've lost the number o' their mess in the racket—I'm willin' to stop the yeller boys from crashin' Unc' Sam's gates, but I don't crave the job o' sendin' the poor dicks along to their worshipped ancestors, not me."

"Well, get a move on you, Perk, and let's have the story of your fight—did he drop down, and have it out with you on the water; or was he circling above your head all the while?"

"If you'll take another squint at these bullet marks, old hoss," said Perk, reproachfully, "you'll see they passed along on the level. Yeah, he was a square shooter I want to say and some day I'm hopin' me'n Oscar c'n shake hands, since the war's long past an' German is being taught again in our public schools."

Then he launched forth in a graphic, if terse, description of the remarkable battle that had so recently taken place. The others listened with intense interest, for if Perk did have a way of cutting his sentences short and never going into lengthy descriptions, nevertheless he made his points tell, and kept his audience of three breathing fast with the thrill they received.

"Now let's get a move on," Jack was saying after Perk had finished the exciting description of his adventure, "and go over all this mess of cases, so these boys can give us a little document to say how we turned over that number of boxes to their charge, together with the sloop. McGrath here used to run the engine of a tug in New York harbor and is well able to manage this rusty cub here—we found it capable of doing a day's work, you know Perk, on the way here."

Jack's word was law, since he was in command. Accordingly they started a systematic check of every case of bottled goods to be found aboard the confiscated vessel, above and below decks.

"Just an even two hundred and twenty-six," announced Jack, after they had gone over the entire lot twice with the same result. "I reckon a few got away aboard that speedboat but they didn't have much time to work the racket before the hijacker mob swarmed aboard and kicked up that riot—then along came Perk, with his armful of tear-bombs and broke up the Boston tea party in great shape. I'll make out a paper for both of you to sign, after which you can kick-off when you please."

All this was satisfactory to McGrath and his comrade and the paper having been duly signed, they set about examining the engine so as to learn whether it could have been injured in any way from the storm of missiles that came aboard during the hostilities so lately ended.

"The bally old thing seems to be in fairly decent shape for running," was McGrath's verdict after the checking had been completed, "and since we've got some distance to cover before we make Tampa Bay, p'raps we'd better be shoving off."

"No such big hurry as that, boys," observed Jack. "I'm a bit hungry myself and reckon you both must be in the same boat. We've got plenty of grub, and to spare, also Perk here knows a few wrinkles along the cooking line. Suppose we have some sort of spread to celebrate Perk's victory."

"Huh! pleases me okay, brother," announced the expectant chef. "I've run across a little rusty kerosene burnin' stove here in what I'd call the cook's galley, an' we might as well have some hot coffee with the eats."

As there were no dissenting votes the motion was carried unanimously; whereupon Perk bustled around and soon had his coffee pot over an apology for a flame which would, however, answer their purpose.

It was only a simple supper, but with good appetites to back them, every one of the quartette declared it was great and would long be remembered.

Then the mess of saw palmetto leaves and other stuff utilized for camouflage purposes was cast overboard after which McGrath "fiddled" with the engine and soon had it running, limp and all, for its misses were plentiful, although the engineer allowed there did not seem to be anything fundamentally wrong.

"If we have fair luck," he announced, confidently, "we ought to fetch our Tampa dock, where all prizes are tied-up, before morning comes along. On the other hand, if we break down we'll either hang on to the sloop, or if luck runs against us, sink her, after smashing every bottle aboard."

"Good enough, Red," Jack told him as they shook hands for the last time. "I hope we run across you boys again some day, and please keep your lip buttoned about our being down here with an amphibian to knock some of these smugglers of Chinks and rum galley-west."

"You can depend on us to keep mum, Jack," the red-headed ex-harbor tug engineer assured him.

So the last line was cast off, Jack and Perk retired to their own ship, and with many a wheeze and complaint the sloop started to pass out to the open gulf, and commence the night journey to Tampa Bay.



CHAPTER XV

WITH THE COMING OF THE MOON

"Wall," Perk was remarking as the sloop passed beyond range of their vision amidst the gathering shades of night, already drawing her sable curtains close, "I hopes they get through without runnin' smack against a bunch o' the racketeers."

"With fair luck they ought to manage to slip along," Jack went on to observe, confidently. "You heard me warn them to keep a watchful eye out for smugglers and hijackers by land and sea and air? Anyway we've finished our part of the job and this paper proves that our find was all I cracked it up to be when I talked with Mr. Ridgeway."

"Course, you knocked up against the gent then, eh Jack?"

"Sure, or I shouldn't have been able to fetch those lads back with me to take over the sloop and contraband cargo," the other told him. "But I was in a tail spin at first when I learned that Mr. Ridgeway had gone down to St. Pete to interview some people who had reasons for not wanting to be seen going into his Government offices in Tampa. But I got his address and jumped my boat, slipped down Tampa Bay, and pulled in at the long municipal pier at St. Petersburg."

"I first hired a dependable man to keep watch over my ship while I was off hunting my superior officer but I found him after a bit and he was sure glad to see me, shook hands like a good sport, and asked me a bunch of questions before starting to tell me what important fresh news he had picked up through his agents working the spy game for all it was worth."

"Was he tickled to learn how we managed to run off with that slick little sloop that carried so neat a pack o' cases marked with foreign stamps?"

"Seemed to be," came the ready answer. "He isn't a man of many words, you know, Perk, but what he says he means. He told me they were banking on the pair of us to bring the high-hat chaps at the head of this smuggler league to the bar, with plenty of evidence that would convict them, no matter how many big lawyers they employed to beat the case."

"That sounds all to the good with me, old hoss," snapped the pleased Perk. "'Taint often we get half the praise that's comin' to us—not that I care a whiff 'bout that, though—satisfied to do my duty by Unc' Sam, an' let them high-ups have the main credit. But I guess we'll get some kick out o' the game just the same an' that's worth all it costs us. Tell me, did this Mr. Ridgeway fork over any news worth knowin'?"

"He did," the other assured him. "I showed him those papers I found hidden in the cabin of the sloop, with a fine list of names, such as would cover customers who'd ordered the stuff they had aboard and he reckoned that several of them might point to the heads of the combine swinging the big smuggling deal."

"That would be a clue worth while, I'd say," Perk asserted warmly, his eyes flashing with renewed zeal as though he might be telling himself they must be getting on a pretty warm scent which would soon lead them to the party they sought above every one else—the capitalist whose word was law, and whose money purchased all the supplies, from liquor and vessels to aircraft and everything else needful for carrying on their business of swindling the Government through the Treasury Department.

Just as he always did in forestalling any likely move when an important case was placed in the hands of himself and Jack, Perk was already engaged in mentally spreading the net destined to gather in the chief culprits—the outlook promised a multitude of warm episodes calculated to stir the blood to fever heat and afford him the wild excitement without which life lost much of its charm—in his eyes at least.

The pulsating throb of the old engine aboard the sloop had long since ceased to make itself heard, so that they could with reason believe McGrath and his pal well on the way to their distant goal, with no sign of stormy weather to be seen in the southwestern heavens.

"How 'bout spendin' the night here, partner?" Perk queried, as he sat contentedly smoking his favorite pipe after the manner of a man who had good reason to congratulate himself on the close of a perfect day.

"I was just thinking that over, Perk. We might be in a worse situation than this, if locality was all that mattered. I don't believe the 'gators would keep us awake with their splashing and roaring along towards early morning, but then I'm a bit bothered thinking of the man who skipped out after having his little machine-gun duel with you."

"You're jest crampin' my style when you say that, partner," complained Perk. "That Oscar happens to be a German, we both know, an' from what I learned about the breed when over there, they're some obstinate, once they get workin' in a game—hate to give it up wuss'n pizen."

"I see you're of the same opinion as myself, buddy," Jack remarked, nodding his head. "You reckon there might be some chance for him to pick up a bunch of his mates and swing back here to do a little bombing on his own account. Well, we're not hankering to try our own medicine, not if we know it, and on that account I think we'd be wise to pull out of this and find a new refuge—perhaps on some lake back from the coast where we might pick up something interesting in our line."

"Je-ru-salem crickets! I kinder guess now you've got somethin' danglin' back o' them words old hoss," broke out the newly interested Perk, showing considerable animation. He was used to most of Jack's habits and could in many instances tell that something lay hidden back of his word—something of a character to promise great happenings when followed to a finish.

That seemingly casual mention of a freshwater lake was not made without some deep meaning—Jack must have been told something very important by the Government official with whom he had gone into conference at Tampa and this was his sly way of starting Perk's wits to working overtime in the endeavor to figure things out.

"Wait and see what's in the wind, Perk," said the head pilot, with a chuckle. "I promise to let you into all I know or suspect before a great while passes. Just now I'll own up this scheme of slipping over to a certain sheet of fresh water for a change of base has a meaning that connects with our big game of Blind Man's Buff."

This seemed to square things with Perk, for he beamed as though pleased. Whatever Jack decided was always all right in his eyes because he felt certain that the bright mind of his comrade just could not make a blunder.

"When do we hop-off, then?" he said.

"Oh, when the moon shows up will be plenty of time," came the ready answer. "Our objective isn't so very far distant and you know we can make a hundred miles an hour if necessary. I'd like to pick up a bit of my lost sleep while we wait, unless you object to standing sentry."

"Not me, matey, I managed to snooze some during the time you were away. Lucky I had everything fixed for company and wasn't caught nappin' when our friend Oscar tipped his hat an' made his bow. Now I was wonderin' if he had that ole quick-firin' gun away back when he was riddlin' things along in the Argonne—wouldn't it be a queer thing if true? He knew how to rattle that cantankerous bus to beat the band an' he did nick me in that silly o' ear o' mine that keeps on gettin' in the way every time I have a little spat with a sassy guy."

Perk insisted on his chum making himself as comfortable as possible, considering the cramped quarters they occupied in the cluttered cabin of their ship, which continued to keep up a soothing movement with the successive waves that worked in from the open gulf inclining a sleepy person to slumber.

"I'll jest sit here an' ruminate while I consume my tobacco," announced the accommodating Perk, making light of his job. "Once in so often I'll take a look skyward with the glasses, so's to know if there's any chance o' Oscar comin' back here to try it all over again. When the moon peeps up in the east yonder I'll put a hand on your arm, so's to let you know it's near time. Go to it, partner—do your stuff."

Jack was feeling pretty tired, since he had enjoyed mighty little decent sleep from one cause or another during the last few nights. It was not at all surprising, therefore, that he should be in slumberland before five minutes passed after he and Perk had exchanged the last word.

The self-posted sentinel did just as he had promised, every little while he would quietly stand up and with the glasses take a keen observation, covering the blue vault above from one horizon to another, then, finding all serene, he would silently resume his seat, with only a sigh to indicate how he felt. Once more he filled his everlasting pipe, began to puff delightedly, and finally lay back in a half reclining position to smoke it out.

He was a great hand at ruminating, as he called it—allowing his thoughts to travel back to events that may have occurred months, and even years before, but which had been of such a nature as to fix themselves in his memory most tenaciously. This afforded him solid enjoyment, together with the charm of his adored pipe and he asked for nothing better.

Thus an hour, two of them, and more passed, with nothing out-of-the-way taking place to attract his attention. He figured that if the pilot of the Curtiss-Robin crate intended to come back that night, he was subject to some sort of delay.

There was frequent splashing in the lagoon near by—at times Perk could tell it must be caused by jumping mullet, but on other occasions the sound being many times exaggerated, he reckoned it had been made by an alligator plunging off a log into the water, either alarmed by some sound further off, or else possessed of a desire to enter a secret underwater den he laid claim to. This would probably have a second entrance, or exit, up on some hummock that Perk had failed to discover when poking around on the preceding day hunting green stuff with which to conceal the deck of the sloop.

Suddenly Perk noticed a slim streak of pale light fall athwart the propeller blade just before him and looking hastily up discovered the smiling face of the moon—a bit battered it is true, for the silvery queen of night was just then on the wane.

It was high time they were moving and making for the goal Jack had mentioned as an inland lake, though at no time did he give the name by which it was known to the settlers and tourists who flocked to Florida during the late Fall and early Winter. So he touched Jack on the shoulder, just he he had promised he would do, nor did he have to give the slightest shake for the other stirred and raised his head, showing he was wide awake.



CHAPTER XVI

THE LOCKHEED-VEGA FLYING SHIP

"Moon coming up, partner!" was all Perk said.

"Then it's time we were moving," Jack told him as he started to stretch his cramped arms and yawn. "Feel a heap better now after that little nap and ready for what's coming."

They did not have much to do, since everything was in perfect condition for hopping-off—trust Jack for that, with his slogan of "be prepared."

"All set, Perk?" asked the pilot, presently.

"Shoot!" was the terse answer.

The bright moon would have to take the place of the customary equipment of a landing field in the way of guidelights, markers, and search-lights, but there was no necessity for so much light with the channel before him along which he could taxi unerringly, until, arriving at the point where the great gulf stretched out toward the western horizon, the speed must be advanced for the take-off.

Now they were free from the mangroves and Jack accelerated the pace of his ship accordingly—two twin foam-crested waves rolled out from the pontoons as they sped along until, testing things, Jack found that his charge was impatient to leave the water and leap upward into space.

Perk looked backward toward the scene of his amazing afternoon battle—how many times in the future would the picture rise in his memory to haunt him and bring that quizzical grin to his face.

With the newly risen moon gilding the small waves of the gulf below them, the picture looked most peaceful. Perk, although not much inclined to romance, could not but admire the spectacle after his own rude fashion while Jack fairly drank it in as he continued to pay attention to his manifold duties.

Their course was almost due north, Jack keeping out a score or more of miles from the coast, having reasons of his own for so doing—perhaps he found the wind more favorable out there and this is always an important factor in the calculations of a pilot of experience. Just as in the earlier days of ocean steamers when they were also equipped with masts and sails, the latter were always hoisted when the wind favored, since this helped them make progress and saved coal at the same time.

They had been booming along for something like half an hour when watchful Perk, the observer, made a discovery worth while he believed. He communicated with his companion, the useful earphones chancing to be in place—trust Perk for that.

"Somethin' doin' out there to the west, partner—look up to a higher ceilin' an' you'll see it. Headin' to cross over our trail in the bargain, I guess."

"A crate, all right," commented Jack, whose quick eyesight had immediately picked up the moving object.

"Looks like it might a come all the way across the gulf—d'ye think from some Mexican port, Jack?"

"Like as not," assented the other. "These crooks make a start from any one of a score of jumping-off places, but always with a specified landing field ahead."

"Then you figger," continued Perk, "he might be one o' the gang, fetchin' Chinks across or mebbe precious stones, bought in Paris, and shipped to Mexico on the way to New York, eh, partner?"

"Chances are three to one that's what it means," Jack told him.

Perk continued to wield his important binoculars and presently, when the lofty plane was passing over, he stated his opinion.

"'Taint him, anyway, that's dead sure, Jack, I guess I ought to know a Lockheed-Vega crate, no matter how far away, or by what tricky moonlight either, 'cause you see I used to run one o' that breed for nearly a year when I took a whirl at the air-mail business up north out o' Chicago till I had a bad crash an' quit cold."

"That settles it then, partner," said the pilot, still observing the speck swinging past out of the tail of his eye. "I hadn't any idea it could be the same chap you had your little picnic with some hours back, for you told me he'd blown off toward the east."

"Jest what he did," replied the observer. "Ginger pop! but what wouldn't I give right now to know jest whar that galoot was meanin' to drop down, once he gets over the land. How 'bout that, old hoss?"

"It might help out considerable," admitted Jack although not as much interested as Perk considered he might be. "We'll sift things out in good time, and for all we know, run across a few surprises in the bargain."

Perk studied that last part for a minute, feeling almost certain Jack had some deep meaning back of his words, but it proved too much for his capacity in the line of figuring out mysteries, and so he dropped it "like a hot potato," as he told himself.

The mysterious air voyager had by now disappeared entirely, although they might still have caught the throbbing of his madly working motor had it not been for their own engine kicking up so much racket, Jack not being inclined to make use of the capable silencer just then.

Perk had made up his mind that the unknown aviator, even if other than Oscar Gleeb, was undoubtedly working the same profitable line of business as the pilot of the Curtiss-Robin ship. So, too, Perk considered it worth while to try and figure out the exact course of the high flyer as he was probably making directly for his intended goal and this knowledge was likely to prove useful to them later on.

This he was able to accomplish. Working mental problems come easily to one who has played the part of a navigator aboard a modern galleon of the clouds.

"Huh!" grunted Perk after figuring out his problem twice and both times reaching the same conclusion, "the guy's really striking in to mighty near the same point Jack's meanin' to make and mebee now our lines might cross if we both kept on goin' long enough."

He studied this matter for some time, wondering if Jack also realized the fact and had kept silent about it for good and sufficient reasons.

It afforded the ambitious Perk considerable satisfaction to hug the idea to his heart that possibly the chance might be given Jack and himself to locate some of these land stations where all this flagrant smuggling business was going on—the prospect of their's being the force to deal the outlaw organization a killing blow brought in its train the thrill he loved so well.

Then came the moment when Jack banked and changed his course radically, heading directly into the east where lay the peninsula of Ponce de Leon, seeker after the Spring of Eternal Youth, and finding instead, a land of flowers.

Perk knew what this evidently meant—that Jack had flown far enough up the west coast and was now bent on making for that inland sheet of fresh water he had mentioned to his comrade as a likely place for them to drop down and pass the balance of the night.

The uncertainty was keeping Perk keyed up to a high tension—something told him in no uncertain tones that Jack had a vastly more important reason for attaining that lake than the mere desire to avoid attracting attention—just what it might mean he could not guess, for when he attempted to solve the enigma he found himself floundering in a shoreless sea of doubt and uncertainty that was baffling, to say the least.

Perk was mumbling to himself as if he might be on the verge of reaching some sort of decision. He bent forward several times as if about to make an important remark and on each occasion drew back, as though he could hardly decide how to approach the matter he had in his mind. Then he would chuckle, as if it might have its humorous side as well as a serious one.

Already had they reached a point where he could easily see the shore several thousand feet below and now Jack was sliding down as if bent on striking a ceiling that would be only a few hundred feet above the palmetto fringe Perk could distinguish running along the coast.

It seemed a fitting time for him to give Jack the start he contemplated and so, summoning his courage, Perk began to talk in as unconcerned a tone as possible.

"Partner, would you mind tellin' me what about this here Oswald Kearns?"



CHAPTER XVII

OKEECHOBEE THE MYSTERIOUS

"Say that again, Perk!" demanded the startled pilot, as though that apparently innocent question had given him a severe jolt.

"Oswald Kearns—kinder queer name, I kinder guess now, an' I'm wonderin' if I ever heard it before—that's all, Jack."

The pilot was busy with his work in handling the ship and therefore debarred from turning his head to look at his companion but at least he could put the astonishment he felt into words.

"So—you think that's a queer name, do you? Well, I'm asking you again, where did you ever run across it—who ever spoke it in your hearing, Perk?"

"Why—er, guess it was on'y you, partner," came the hesitating reply.

"You don't say?" gasped Jack, tremendously excited, "please tell me when that happened because I don't remember doing such a thing, though I meant to carry out our partnership arrangement this very night when we had settled down and could have a nice quiet confab—go on, though, and say when I lifted the lid, and let you into this part of our big game, Perk."

"Huh! you talked in your sleep some, old hoss—first time ever I knew you to do sech a thing—said that name exactly three times, like it meant a heap in the bargain."

"You mean tonight while I was picking up a few winks of sleep—is that a fact, Perk?"

"Sure thing, boss—course I knew somethin' must be pesterin' you like all get-out, so I made up my mind to ask you who that Oswald might be an' what we'd got to do with such a critter."

Then Jack laughed as the humorous side of his recent thrill had begun to grip him.

"Well, well, seems like I'll soon have to put a padlock on my lips after this when I hit the hay. It's a serious offence for a fellow in our profession to give away his secrets like that! Never knew myself to be guilty of babbling that way before. Lucky you were the only one to hear me give the game away so recklessly. The joke is on me, partner."

"But say, Jack, whoever is this Kearns guy anyhow—I sure never heard his name before tonight an' I kinder got the idee in my head he must be some big-wig you ran up against when in Washington—somebody who had the orderin' around o' poor dicks like me'nd you."

"That's a far guess, brother," Jack told him, "for the fact of the matter is, this Oswald Kearns happens to be a certain party just now under suspicion as being the king-pin of these smugglers who're giving Uncle Sam a run for his money down along this gulf coast!"

Perk took it with a little break, as though the information fairly staggered him, but he was quickly back again at his fly-casting—seeking information at the fount in which he had so much faith.

"You sent me into a reg'lar tail spin that time, Jack, but after tellin' me so much, it'd be right cruel to keep me a'guessin' any longer."

"I don't mean to keep you in the dark after this, Perk," he was told in jerky, broken sentences, as though Jack found it difficult to talk and pay the proper attention to what he was doing, for the amphibian had again commenced a steep dive, seeking a much lower altitude. "There are too many things connected with the story to try and spin it now—just hold your horses till we settle down on that lake, and you'll get it—all I know, or suspect, anyhow. Just now I can only tell you that this Kearns is a most remarkable personage, a baffling mystery to the Department who's outsmarted the whole Service and played his game of hide-and-seek before their very eyes—nobody so far has been able to pick up a shred of positive evidence that would convict him.

"Gosh, amighty, we're flyin' high, buddy!" was what Perk exclaimed and immediately his wits went into a huddle. He must get busy and figure things out, just as football teams do when a change in signals becomes essential.

They had been passing over the land for some little time and still Jack kept heading almost directly into the northeast. He knew just where he expected to make his goal, due to a close application to his charts and maps of the Florida region.

Debarred from fishing for information while the flight was on, Perk was forced to seek consolation in making good use of his binoculars, sweeping the heavens for signs of other suspicious planes or endeavoring to make out the character of the terrain over which they were speeding.

Occasionally he managed to discover some tiny light and this gave him an opportunity to speculate as to its meaning—if isolated he concluded it must either be a campfire made by alligator hunters, or a street light in some small hamlet, such as he imagined might be found in this almost wild section of lower Florida where the Everglades with their eternal water kept settlers from picking out locations for starting truck patches or citrus groves—all of which would probably be vastly changed when the great reclamation plans for draining had been fully carried out.

He often felt certain he glimpsed water below and had enough knowledge of the country to understand what that would mean.

"Wonder jest how long he means to keep this up," Perk was saying to himself when the better part of an hour had passed since they left the open gulf behind, "huh! by this time we must a'gone more'n sixty miles an' say, in places the hull State ain't more'n a hundred across from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mex. Gulf. Whoopee! could it mean he's aimin' to strike that terrible, big lake—Okeechobee—that overflowed its banks not long ago when they had that nasty hurricane and drowned a wheen o' poor folks around Moore Haven? Gee whiz! it's got me a'guessin' but then Jack knows what he's tryin' to do, an' I'm goin' to leave it all up to him to settle."

Somehow this suggestion appealed to Perk as being quite in line with the magnitude of their tremendous task—it was only appropriate to have the scene of their coming operations the biggest freshwater lake by long odds in the entire State, barring none—it would have been what Perk might term as "small pertatoes, an' few in a hill," to have such a wizard of an operator as Oswald Kearns pick out an ordinary body of water, say of a mile in diameter, as his secret headquarters where he could continue to keep his whereabouts unknown to the Government revenue men.

Lake Okeechobee—well, that certainly offered some scope for any display of their own cleverness in finding the proofs they so yearned to possess in rounding up the "cantankerous varmint," as Perk was already calling Kearns in his Yankee vernacular.

It could not be much longer delayed, Perk assured his eager self—less than another hour of this sort of work would take them entirely across the peninsula, and cause the plane to fetch up somewhere along the Atlantic coast between Miami and Palm Beach. Much as Perk would like to set eyes upon those two opulent Southern winter resorts in the midst of their splendor, he felt that such a thing would hardly be proper under the conditions by which their visit would have to be governed—small chance for anything bordering on secrecy to be carried out in such a region of sport seeking and excitement day after day.

Ah! it must be coming closer now, he decided on noting how, far below the plane, he could make out what looked like a vast sea with little wavelets glimmering in the light of the moon—assuredly that must indeed be the lonely lake, long known as the home of mystery, Okeechobee, the mightiest stretch of fresh water in the whole country of the South.

Jack was passing up along the western shore line as though his plan of campaign called for a descent in some obscure quarter where they could find a hideout in which to park their aircraft while they pursued their urgent call ashore.

Not the faintest gleam of light anywhere proved that settlers were indeed few and far between and this fact would also explain just why Oswald Kearns, wishing for secrecy and isolation, had selected this region as best suited to his purpose.

Now Jack was dropping steadily, his silencer in full play—it was time for Perk to get busy and through the use of his marine night glasses keep his pilot posted regarding what lay below them.



CHAPTER XVIII

THE MASTER CROOK

One thing Perk noticed with more or less satisfaction as they drew closer to the surface of the water was the fact that quite a stiff breeze seemed to be blowing out of the north. The waves were running up along the shore with considerable vigor and noise while the dead leaves hanging from the palmetto trees fringing the bank above the meagre beach kept up a loud rustling, such as would effectually drown any ordinary splash made by the contact of their pontoons with the surface of the lake.

Conditions could hardly have been more favorable for an undetected landing—the time was late, so that it hardly seemed as though any one would be abroad, the moon kept dodging behind successive clumps of dark clouds that had swept up from the southwest and everything seemed to be arranged just as Jack would have wished.

Perk had received instructions from his mate to keep on the watch for certain landmarks that would serve to tell them they were not far distant from their intended location. When in due time he made out the wooded point that jutted out so commandingly from the mainland and had communicated that fact to the pilot, Jack turned the nose of his craft sharply downward, proving that the decisive moment was at hand.

Noted for his ability to carry through a delicate landing, Jack certainly never did a prettier drop into a body of water, fresh or salt, with less disturbance than on this momentous occasion, and they were soon riding like a wild duck, just within sight of the shore.

There were no signs of anything stirring along the waterfront, Perk observed, and yet if his suspicions were correct, there must have been considerable activity around that same spot, with a ship coming in laden with stupefied Chinamen, terrified by making such a trip from Cuba or some Mexican port in a "flying devil" that could soar up among the very clouds and span the widest of angry seas—perhaps on the other hand the incoming aircraft would bring a cargo of precious cases, each almost worth its weight in silver or maybe the skipper would carry a small packet in his pocket that might contain a duke's ransom in diamonds that would never pay custom duties to the Government.

No wonder then Perk was thrilled to the core with the sense of mystery that brooded over this most peculiar locality—to him it already assumed a condition bordering on some of those miraculous things he could remember once reading in his boyhood's favorite book "The Arabian Night's Entertainment," the glamour of which had never entirely left him.

But already Jack was casting about, as though eager to find some place of concealment where they could stow the ship away and so prevent prying eyes from making a disastrous discovery—disastrous at least to those plans upon which Jack was depending for the successful outcome of his dangerous mission.

"We've got to taxi up the shore a mile or so," he was telling Perk in the softest manner possible, although the noise made by the rolling waves and the clashing dead palmetto leaves dangling from the lofty crowns of the numerous trees would have deadened voices raised even to their natural pitch.

"So," was all Perk allowed himself to say, but it testified to his understanding of the policy involved in Jack's general scheme of things.

This was done as quietly as the conditions allowed, and how fortunate it was they had held off from crossing over from the gulf until the middle of the night—but then it might be expected that Jack would consider all such things in laying out his movements.

In the end they managed to get the amphibian between two jutting banks where the vegetation was so dense that there was no chance of a trail or road passing that way. In the early morning Jack planned to once again conceal his ship, even as the captured sloop had been camouflaged by Perk's clever use of green stuff.

"That part of the job's done and without any slip-up," Jack was saying, vastly relieved, "and now we can take things easy for a spell, during which time I'll try and post you as far as I can about this queer fish, Oswald Kearns, and what they've begun to suspect he's been doing all this while."

"In the first place he's about as wealthy as any one would want to be, so the reason for his playing this game doesn't lie back of a desire to accumulate money. Some say he must have run afoul of the customs service in the days when he hadn't fallen heir to his fortune and all this is just spite work to get even—a crazy idea, but there may be a germ of truth in it after all."

"He has a wonderful place not far out of Miami—they all say it's a regular palace, where he entertains lavishly and yet not at any time have they known of a raid staged on his castle, as some call the rambling stone building that shelters a curio collection equal to any in the art museums of New York City."

"Every little while Oswald Kearns disappears and no one seems to know his whereabouts—some guess he's fond of tarpon fishing and goes out with a pal to indulge in the sport, his destination being kept secret so that the common herd can't swarm about the fishing grounds and annoy him; then another lot say he is not the bachelor he makes out, but has a little cozy home somewhere else with a wife who detests society and that's where he goes when away from the Miami paradise."

"Both of these guesses are wide of the truth—what they told me up at the Treasury Department set me thinking and I found some papers aboard that sloop we captured that opened up a startling line of action that might be unbelievable if it were any other man than the eccentric Oswald Kearns."

"By the way, Perk, after I'd committed the contents of those papers to memory I sent them by registered mail to Headquarters because, you see, something might happen to us before we get to the end of this journey and I reckoned the Department would like to be able to take advantage of our discoveries."

"You did jest right there, partner," Perk told him—he was sitting there drinking it all in with the utmost eagerness. "It sure would be a pity if we kicked off an' Uncle Sam couldn't profit by what work we'd done. But what you've already told me 'bout this here queer guy gets my goat, like as not there never was a feller as full o' kinks as he is."

"I'm pretty certain of that, partner," Jack assured him, "there's no doubt about his having been gassed in the war and that might account for his actions—he's dippy along certain lines and he finds this way of defying the Government gives him the one big thrill he wants. It's almost incredible, I own up, but I believe we're going to prove it before we quit.

"Some men you know find this excitement in driving a speeding car along the beach up at Daytona at a hundred miles and more an hour, others go out and hunt tigers in India, lions and elephants in wildest Africa, but with this wealthy sportsman the craze takes the form of snapping his fingers in contempt at Uncle Sam's Coast Guard and all the revenue men in Florida.

"I was a bit skeptical at first, it all seemed so silly, such a whimsey for a rich man to fancy—taking such big risks just for the thrill he got—but the more I picked up about the man the less inclined I became to doubt, and by now I'm convinced it is the truth."

"But what makes him keep all this smuggling business clear of this wonderful show place near Miami?" asked Perk, apparently still groping as though in a daze.

"Just wants to be living his double life," explained Jack, "with one line never crossing the other—you might call it a Jekyll and Hyde sort of an existence. But the truth will come out in broad daylight if ever we do round him up and catch him with the goods."

"Er—'bout how long will we be in makin' some sort o' start, boss?" asked Perk anxiously.

"We may have to stick around here for some days while we do a little spy work and lay our net," Jack told him. "A great deal depends on, how the land lies and what success we strike in making our approach—you know how it is with all golfers—approach means a whole lot to them. But if we have the good fortune to nab our man after making certain we have plenty of convincing evidence to be used against him, why there's our boat ready to spirit him away before his gang can forcibly take him off our hands."



CHAPTER XIX

THE SCENT GROWS WARMER

It all seemed so simple, as Jack put it, that Perk felt everything was bound to come their way eventually if not just then. All the same his sound common sense told him there was apt to be some pretty lively times in store for them before the end they sought had been obtained.

He had the feeling of one who had been fed up on thrilling details and figured on having a great volume of tragic possibilities to mull over in his customary fashion—for all the world, as Jack often told him, like a cow chewing her cud.