Realizing that Jack had now posted him thoroughly, Perk managed to curb his curiosity besides, the chances were his pal would be likely to frown on anything approaching garrulity.

Several hours passed and most of this time they spent taking short naps in order to keep in condition for anything that might crop up. Then came the dawn, to find Perk pawing over his haversack in which he had food stowed away, with which he calculated to meet any "hold-over" that might come along.

That dawn was a wonderful one, especially for those unaccustomed to what Florida could offer in the way of sunrises. Even while the pair partook of their limited breakfast, they kept an eye on the amazingly delicate shades of color that marked the approach of the sun above the eastern horizon.

But they had work ahead and could not waste time by lingering over the early morning meal. In order to lessen the chances of discovery it would be necessary for them to conceal the ship from spying eyes and with his former effectual result in camouflage as a sample of how it could best be accomplished, Perk took it upon himself to repeat the operation.

They had aboard the amphibian a cleverly arranged collapsible canvas boat that could be launched in short order and was to be propelled by means of a short but serviceable paddle. While up in Canada with the Mounties, Perk had become quite proficient in the use of a paddle and also in balancing by sheer instinct while in a tipsy little canoe.

Accordingly he convinced his chum that since both of them could hardly expect to occupy the small shallop and carry any quantity of greens, it was up to him, Perk, to put the job through in good shape. Jack could be checking up his motor and taking a survey of the boat so as to make certain it was in serviceable condition.

"Cause you know, partner," Perk went on solemnly, "when we do want to skip out it's bound to be in a hoppin' hurry an' there'd be no time to look her over then, by jiminy. Jest lie around an' take things easy-like—your work is a'goin to be mostly with the brain, while I'm the lad to use the muscle."

Jack felt that since the canoe was so diminutive, Perk's logic was unanswerable, so he agreed to the division of labor.

"Only, if it turns out that the job's a bigger one than you reckon on, buddy, you'll let me take a whirl at it," he suggested, to which the other simply grinned and nodded his head.

The work went on steadily and Perk eventually had every part of the amphibian covered with deceptive green stuff, well calculated to hoodwink any air pilot passing directly over the spot.

This accomplished, he was ready to call it a day and drop down close to Jack for a resting spell. When they talked it was in low tones, almost bordering on whispers, for Jack took no chances of some enemy being within gunshot range of their hideout, whose ears would be likely to catch the sound of ordinary voices.

Jack, observing what his chum had accomplished, felt compelled to give the artist his meed of commendation.

"You sure made a fine job of smothering things with all this stuff, Perk," he told him, which was music in the other's ears, since he would rather have Jack praise him than any one he knew. "No easy thing to hide these stretched-out wings and the fuselage, too, as well as the shiny parts of the crate—motor, propeller, and such, but you fixed it to beat the band."

"Can that sort o' talk, partner—it was a soft job an' anybody with sense could a'done it as good as yours truly. Goin' to be a sure enough long day, 'cordin' to my way o' lookin' at it."

"Oh! nothing like having a little patience," commented Jack calmly, for he seldom showed signs of being in a hurry. "Men in our line of business must learn to just hang on and wait for the proper minute to strike the hook home in the fish's jaw."

"Yeah, an' then hang on some more, after they git the barb well hooked, with the game fish kickin' up an awful row," chuckled Perk. "Huh! don't I know how impatience is my besettin' sin and ain't I always a'tryin' to curb it? That's why I'm crazy to work in double harness with you, brother, 'cause you hold me in when I feel like spreadin' myself brashly. Guess I know when I'm well off. Time to take another spin in dreamland, seems like," with which remark Perk assumed as easy a position as the crowded cabin of the ship admitted, closed his eyes, and so far as Jack could tell from his regular breathing was asleep.

It was indeed a long morning for them both.

Came noon and they again proceeded to enjoy a snack, for appetites have a habit of growing rampant despite any lack of expenditure in the way of muscular activity.

"I was jest thinkin," Perk remarked as they chewed their dry food, more as a duty than because they enjoyed it, "that we might be put on short rations if we're held up on this here job any great length o' time."

Jack refused to be disturbed by such a possibility.

"Oh! I reckon there isn't much chance of that happening," he said in his usual optimistic manner. "If things get pretty bad we can make a foray on the pantry of the shack where our friend puts up when over here. Knowing that he's fond of his grub, with oceans of the long green to lay in the best of supplies with, I rather think he keeps a well-stocked larder at all times. I don't figure on either of us being starved out while there's a flock of eatables close by," and from the way in which Perk licked his lips on hearing this said, it was plainly evident he fully agreed with his pal.

After that wonderful sunrise, which even Perk had called glorious, the sky clouded up around noon and there were even signs to warn them that rain might come along by nightfall. The visibility, too, became somewhat poor which possibly was one reason that influenced Jack to make a certain decision which Perk heard later on with unbounded pleasure.

"It's getting on my nerves a bit, too, I must confess, Perk," was the way he started to state his case, "and since there would be small chance of discovery, thanks to this muggy atmosphere, what's to hinder our taking a little stroll, keeping a wary eye out for stragglers?"

"I get you, partner," was the eager way Perk snapped him up on the proposition which exactly tallied with what he himself had been wishing. "I calculate now it means we c'n move around an' get tabs on this here hideout o' the gent we're so much in love with, eh, what?"

"Wouldn't do any harm to learn the lay of the land," Jack told him, "especially since we mean to do most of our snooping under cover of night. So let's step out and take our little saunter. We know right well in a general way that the shack must lie down the shore, by that point jutting out a mile away. Let's hope we'll be able to run across some kind of trail by following which we'll fetch up as close as we want to go for the first time. Both of us must make a mental map of everything we see so as to feel sure of our ground when darkness comes."

"That's the ticket, partner, let's go!"

Perk lost no time in picking up the small hand machine-gun, that could be used much after the fashion of a long barreled German Luger quick-firing pistol and when Jack looked dubiously at it his chum hastened to explain his reason for lugging such a weapon along.

"Huh! the weight don't count with such a husky as me, old hoss an' how do we know what's goin' to happen before we gets back here? These guys, I take it, are quick on the trigger and if we got to fight we'd have a better chance to pull out alive if we carried this little pill-box."

"Oh, well! have it your own way, brother," Jack told him, evidently impressed with Perk's logic; and so they started forth.



CHAPTER XX

DENIZENS OF THE FLORIDA SWAMPS

After all it was perhaps a wise determination on the part of Jack to thus take time by the forelock and endeavor to learn the lay of the land while a fitting opportunity lasted. To start out when darkness lay over everything, with no knowledge whatever concerning the prospect before them, would have doubled the chances for some grievous calamity overtaking them even before they were ready to strike their first blow.

Jack had a pretty strong suspicion they were in the neighborhood of some stretch of swampland—he was backed in this supposition by several things—the general low lay of the ground bordering the great lake and also the fact that snowy white egrets, as well as cranes, flew to and fro during the early morning, as though they must have a roost not far away and he had been told that as a rule these gathering places were to be found in the gloomy depths of a swamp.

If they should chance to lose their way in those dark and dismal swamps and find themselves mired in the mud holes, they would be in a sorry fix, and they might even be forced to shout for assistance in order to save their lives, thus revealing themselves to their enemy, for the tenacious muck had a tendency to act in the same treacherous fashion as quicksand, clutching the victim and dragging him down, inch after inch into its unfathomable depths.

Hardly were they started than one pleasing discovery was made. Just as Jack had hoped might be the case, a dim trail was struck not far back from the border of the silent lake, that gave promise of leading them in the course they planned to go.

Jack made certain that there were no signs of this trail having been used by human beings—at least in recent times; possibly it may have originally been an Indian trail in those days when Osceola and his gallant followers dared defy the powers at Washington and declare open war upon the few white squatters at that time in the southern portions of the Florida peninsula. Or, what was more probable still, it might be only the pathway used for ages by innumerable four-footed denizens of the swamp,—deer, panthers, raccoons, 'possum, foxes, wildcats and the like.

It was a meandering trail, evidently following the path of least resistance for on both sides the shrubbery, together with wild grape-vines and various other climbers, made a solid barrier that even a weasel might have found difficult to negotiate.

Presently their road skirted the border of the swamp Jack had felt so certain could not be far away. Here new and wonderful sights greeted their eyes and Perk in particular stared with all his might, taking in the flowers that festooned many of the trees—palmetto, live-oaks, wild plum, gumbo limbo, and queer looking cypress, with their cumbersome butts rising several feet from the ooze in which they grew. Most of the trees were festooned with long trailing banners of gray Spanish moss that gave them a most unusual appearance.

Since it was Perk's first hand knowledge concerning the looks of a genuine Southern swamp, he felt justified in making frequent halts in order to gaze and wonder. Particularly was he impressed with the giant alligator that had been sunning himself on a half-submerged log and had slid off with a splash at their approach, also the multitude of water moccasins to be seen on stumps and other objects, looking most vicious with their checkered backs and dusty bellies.

"You want to take particular notice of those dirty looking boys," Jack told him in a low tone, pointing to a bunch of the reptiles as he spoke, "for they are water moccasins, cowardly enough, but always ready to give you a sly stab and I've been told they are so poisonous that even if a man didn't die after being struck, his wound would never heal properly and his life become a burden to him. Give the critters a wide berth always, partner."

"Huh! you jest better believe I will, Jack—never did care much for snakes, even the harmless kinds an' I'd jump three feet in the air when out West, if ever I heard a locust buzz, thinkin' it must be a rattler. Me an' the crawlin' breed don't mix, that's what."

Hardly three minutes after Perk had given expression to his dislikes, Jack caught him by the arm and with a trace of excitement that was really foreign to his nature, pointed to some object close to the trail they were following.

"Jeru-salem crickets!" gasped Jack, possibly a bit louder than discretion would warrant but Jack felt there was some measure of excuse for his outburst.

There a monstrous diamondback rattlesnake, fully five feet long and as thick through the body as a good-sized man's thigh, had just raised its enormous flat head and opened its jaws to display its terrible fangs. Even as the two stood there and stared, the rattle began to whirr its deadly warning.

"It's all right, Perk," said Jack soothingly, not certain what the effect of so dangerous a neighbor might have upon his sensitive pal, "we can pass him by out of reach. A rattler, unless madly in earnest, never tries to strike further than his length for he has to get back in his coil in a hurry, being helpless to defend himself unless curled up."

Jack showed that this was true by passing the spot, with the venomous reptile only increasing his rattle and drawing back his head. Then Perk shut his teeth hard and followed suit but it might have been noticed that he kept to the extreme edge of the narrow trail and had his muscles all set, as if in readiness to make a mighty spring if he thought the snake was about to launch his coils forward.

"Whew!" hissed Perk, after he had safely negotiated the peril that lay in the road, "I'm a'thinkin' what risks we got to run tonight when we come a'snoopin' 'long this way. Nigh makes my hair curl to figure on that baby comin' slap up against my leg. Wish now I had my old leather huntin' leggings with me to ward off them terrible fangs, each one an inch long, seemed like to me."

"Between us, brother, I myself don't seem to hanker traveling along this trail after dark, and I mean to carry that small flash of mine, turning the light on every few seconds for I don't believe it would be noticed. But they tell me these whoppers are rather scarce around these sections—there may not be another inside of five miles."

"Glory! I should hope not," said the still trembling Perk, "but I just can't forget we've got even one here to bother us. If only I dared use my gun, I'd soon knock spots out o' him, bet you a cookey, Jack."

"Nothing doing, so forget that, partner. On the way back, if he's still holding the fort, we might get a couple of long, stout poles, and try to knock him on the head if it can be done with little confusion—he won't make any noise outside of whirling his rattlebox and we could keep our lips buttoned tight. Yes, that would be the best way to fix things, I reckon."

Really Jack was saying this so as to comfort his mate; he realized that Perk had received a severe shock at sight of the diamondback crawler and it might affect his desire to do any prowling around after nightfall which would throw the entire burden of so doing on his, Jack's shoulders. Besides, there was a fair chance that the snake would have withdrawn from his self-imposed task of guardian of the swamp trail and taken himself off to other pastures.

They resumed their forward progress, with Perk keeping a watchful eye out for other lurking perils—how were they to know but that an angry bobcat, bent on disputing this invasion of his tangled realm, might make a sudden spring from some limb of a live oak and land upon their backs to commence using his keen claws, tearing and stripping and snarling like a devil, such as these beasts always were reckoned in such sections of the country as he, Perk, had hunted.

Ten minutes, fifteen, passed then Jack again caught his chum's arm and with a finger pressed on his own lips to betoken the necessity for silence, pointed to something ahead that must have just caught his attention. And Perk, looking, saw a sight that afforded him a sense of satisfaction both deep and profound.



CHAPTER XXI

THE MYSTERIOUS COQUINA SHACK

"Hot Ziggetty! so this is where he dropped down, is it?" Perk was muttering in subdued excitement as his astonished eyes fell upon a plane bobbing on its pontoons in a sheltered little cove, "meet that spruce Lockheed-Vega bus, partner, that clipped past away over our heads, an' the woozy pilot never dreamin' our crate was within a hundred miles o' him. Kinder guess the pirate roost must lie around here somewhere."

"That's a dead sure thing, Perk," whispered Jack, "and chances are it's hid in the midst of that live-oak clump yonder, where I take it the land lies high and dry."

"I swan but this is gettin' real excitin' an' suits me okay," breathed the duly thrilled Perk, who felt there was no longer any reason for calling things tame.

"By changing our base a bit," suggested Jack almost as equally pleased over their success as his nervous chum, "we might even be able to get a squint at the shack, let's try, buddy."

He lost no time in creeping inch by inch along toward the right, having apparently figured out that such a course would give them a better all-around opportunity to gratify their curiosity.

It proved to be a wise move for presently they managed to glimpse what seemed to be the corner of a small cottage, built of coquina rock and altogether attractive in appearance, proving that the Big Boss never hesitated to spend money when he could secure results.

"Huh!" gurgled Perk, stretching his neck so as to see better through the narrow opening that served them as a lookout, "some toney, strikes me, considerin' the desolate country round-about this section. Must be his high-hat tastes foller him, no matter where he goes—sorter dude, I'd call him, partner."

"That may be," agreed Jack, "I understood he ran in that groove but just the same they say this Kearns is a real he-man an' can put up a warm scrap when necessary—the dude racket is only a thin veneer hiding the genuine article. I was warned never to let him get a chance to beat me to the draw—some call him a rattlesnake, only he lacks that reptile's honesty in always giving warning when about to strike. Don't forget, Perk, in dealing with this slick article you've got to be on your guard every minute of the time."

"Glad you told me that, Jack, I might a'been fooled, an' treated him as a soft guy. Looky thar, will you, boy—two—three fellers jest swarmed out o' the shack an' gone into a huddle like they had some sorter game to set up. Wonder now if one o' the bunch could be him!"

"I reckon not, Perk," came in a low tone from Jack, whose head was only a few inches away from the other's, "none of them answer the description that was given to me. I even saw a snapshot taken of several society folks in front o' his Miami castle, with him standing in the center. One of this lot's the flying man connected with that crate—you can see he's still wearing his greasy dungarees and has his helmet on his head, like he expected to be hopping-off any minute now; a second chap is short and thick, not at all like the one we've come so far to buck up against, while the third, while tall, looks like a roughneck skipper of a speedboat."

"Guess you hit the nail on the head, Jack," muttered the convinced Perk, for they were at some little distance away from the consulting trio, and their whispers could never have been heard with the dead leaves on nearby palmetto trees keeping up their harsh clashing when whipped by the gusts of wind.

Both of the spies must have had a host of speculations passing in review through their active minds as they lay there watching the conspirators so earnestly talking and gesticulating. From time to time Jack and his chum would cast further glances in the quarter where the trim aircraft lay anchored, bobbing up and down like a restive horse eager to be off.

What did they fetch on their voyage through the upper air lanes, coming from some unknown port—hardly "case stuff," Jack told himself, since space aboard the Lockheed-Vega crate would be limited—then it must be either yellow Chinks trying to crash the gates of the country that banned some of their race as undesirable aliens, or possibly the winged courier carried a batch of precious stones from far-away Paris, forwarded in a round-about, surreptitious way and intended to reach a ready market in the wealthiest country in the world, of course, without paying the usual heavy customs duty—which saving alone would likely reach well into six figures.

The trio seemed to have finished their discussion, whatever its nature might have been, for they sauntered down to the edge of the water where the man in the dungarees proceeded to embark by means of a small boat that he could leave secured to the mooring rope of the amphibian when he took off.

"Making off to pick up another cargo, I reckon," Jack ventured. "And so this is where our friend has his secret hideout at such times when he so mysteriously disappears from his big show place near Miami? Mighty interesting, I'd call it and the chances are he's been keeping up this double play racket for many months, perhaps even for years, for he came to Florida not long after the war, fishing for tarpon down around the Ten Thousand Islands where we lay concealed lately."

"But what's the big idea, partner?" Perk wanted to know—"why under the sun does he play both ends o' this queer game—what's the sense o' his havin' this wee shack in the wilderness when he could carry on his racket just as well on the eastern shore?"

"Just because he fancies the idea of keeping his two personalities as far apart as possible, Perk. Uncle Sam's Coast Guards, revenue officers and even Secret Service men fairly swarm around Miami most of the year so they'd be apt to make it more or less unpleasant for the elegant Oswald Kearns in his society functions if he had his pals dodging in and out of his princely palace. He prefers to drop over here in this desolate place instead when he has a lot of business to transact. He's a wonder, all right, in his double line, Perk, and not to be underrated, understand."

"Seems that way, partner," grumbled the other quickly adding, "there goes the Lockheed-Vega spinnin' out o' the lagoon to the open lake so's to get up enough speed for the take-off. Must be somethin' mighty special to coax that pilot to risk bein' seen in open daylight. So he used to fish in them passages 'tween the mangrove islands years ago, did he, Jack?"

"Sure did, and they told me his guide some years ago down there used to be a notorious smuggler and gulf-stream pirate, no other than Jim Alderman, right now in the jug over at Fort Lauderdale on the eastern shore and waiting to get a hempen collar for murdering three law officers in August two years back. Of course, he hadn't started his real career of crime when he used to be a guide for Roosevelt, Zane Grey, the writer, and some other famous sportsmen."

"Do tell," murmured Perk, duly thrilled by what his pal was telling him concerning one of the most turbulent characters known along the Florida coasts since those days of old when buccaneers like Blackbeard, Gasparilla and others of their ilk roamed the subtropical waters and swarmed aboard such unfortunate Spanish galleons as chance threw their way.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Jack went on to whisper, "if he goes under quite another name while over in this hideout and even manages to alter his looks more or less. He's capable of playing many parts if he's half as good an actor as I suspect. But we'll be apt to know a heap more before a great while slips by."

"There he goes, Jack, swingin' off toward the east in the bargain, but then it's just as easy for a flier to strike across the lower end o' Florida, if the notion strikes him, day or night. Crates are gettin' to be a common sight these days down here. I read they expected to have a full hundred at Miami this very winter, takin' part in a big air derby that's scheduled to be pulled off."

They watched the other two men walk back and enter the coquina bungalow and a little later Jack was saying:

"Strikes me we'd better pull up stakes and clear out of this, Perk, don't forget we've got to pass that rattlesnake cove on the way back, and for one, I'm not so keen about doing it in pitch darkness."

"Don't get me goofy, partner," whimpered Perk with a shudder. "But hold on a bit—mebbe now somethin's a'goin' to strike up we'll both be sorter glad to set eyes on—looky there, old hoss, what do you see?"



CHAPTER XXII

THE MAN OF MANY FACES

A man had come out of the odd-looking shack constructed from the coquina rock found in different parts of Florida, and formed by insects, science has decided. Neither Jack nor his companion had ever set eyes on him before, he was an entirely different personage from the short party and the longer-limbed man they had so lately been watching before the reckless pilot of the Lockheed-Vega plane departed toward the east.

This individual was also tall and was dressed in well-worn outing garments that gave him the appearance of a man of leisure taking a day off.

"Think that's this here Kearns, partner?" whispered Perk, eagerly.

"Just who it must be, Perk," came the cautious reply. "Be careful about making any sort of little move that might catch his attention, and keep your eyes fastened on him. Whatever under the sun is he doing, I wonder?"

"Looks to me he's got some sorter bird there—I c'n see red feathers—yep, that's what it is for a fact, Jack!"

"Working over a bird with red feathers," said Jack, as if to himself, so low was his voice. "Now, that makes me remember something I was told only a short time back—something connected with that wonderful place he owns over on the East Coast—about birds too—stuffed birds, in fact!"

"Do you mean he's got a collection there, Jack?" breathed the intently watching assistant in his companion's ear.

"Just that," came the ready reply, "a mighty fine collection too, from all accounts, of native Florida birds and filling a number of glass cases. We already know this party is a man of contradictory habits, being one thing among society people and just the opposite when he gets in a different atmosphere. Chances are he's a pretty fine amateur taxidermist—those birds have all been secured by himself and mounted in the bargain—that when he drops out of sight around Miami it's to come over here to do some hunting in the swamps and the Everglades, eager to run across some rare bird that he needs to make his collection complete."

"Now wouldn't that jar you?" he gasped, vastly astonished at hearing Jack air his conviction.

"I'm not much of an authority on rare birds," Jack admitted softly as he continued to use his eyes to advantage, "but I've got a hunch that skin he's handling right now might be a roseate spoonbill—I'm sure it isn't a red ibis, for the bill seems different."

"Whee! sounds queer to me, I must say Jack—such a man, such a man—to play so many different parts! Say, d'ye know I kinder guess he ain't such a tough guy under all the varnish—must have a heap o' human natur' under it all to fall for such a decent game as taxidecentry or whatever you call this pluggin' dead birds an' makin' 'em sit up on boughs like they might be all to the good!"

"Put it mostly on that war experience he went through, Perk—they say once a man was gassed pretty badly over there, he'd always prove to be a queer fish—changeable, nervous and apt to do all manner of strange things."

"But see here, partner," whispered Perk, uneasily, "that ain't a'goin to make any perticular difference with our billet, is it—jest 'cause he's got this funny streak runnin' through his doin's we don't reckon to throw up our hands an' call it all off, do we?"

Jack chuckled.

"Not any, buddy—we only know that Uncle Sam wants his activities cut short—it may be exciting sport for him to ferry Chinks across from Cuba or Honduras, land big cargoes of booze on our shores with his thumb to his nose insofar as the Government is concerned, and such capers as that, but it means heaps of trouble for the revenue boys as well as holding our laws up to contempt. He must be brought to book, and his game stopped without any more delay than is necessary, no matter how many other innocent recreations he's engaged in."

"Hot ziggetty! that gives me a warm feelin' again, partner an' I guess we're the boys to knock the underpinnin' loose so's to make him drop with a splash." Saying which, Perk relapsed into utter silence.

For some further time they stuck it out, watching every little movement of the remarkable character proceeding with his labor, not a hundred feet distant. Jack himself began to grow a bit nervous, for the sun was just hovering above the western horizon and twilight does not last any length of time in the South. If they delayed much longer it would mean a walk in the dark over that dangerous dimly marked trail.

They could have no further doubt concerning the nature of the work that was giving the suspected man so much genuine pleasure, he had held up the object of his labor several times so they could plainly identify it as a birdskin with the most lovely rosy-tinted feathery plumage, long legs and a spoon-shaped bill.

Then greatly to the relief of the uneasy Perk, the short man came out of the shack and said something that caused the other to accompany him back, thus clearing the field.

"Now let's skip out," Jack said softly.

Accordingly both watchers commenced sliding and creeping for all the world copying the movements of a cat ambushing a feeding sparrow in the back yard of a suburban place. Although so anxious to get started on their way back to where they had left their camouflaged ship, neither Jack nor his comrade would take chances in trying to make haste; they had long ago learned the folly of one false move when engaged in their accustomed job of spying upon a suspected law-breaker whom they had tracked down after an arduous chase.

When finally they reached a point where it was safe to pick up a little speed, Jack hastened to do so. For a wonder Perk was not saying a word—the truth was he had his mind so filled with bewilderment in connection with the queer happenings of the last hour that he could not think of any further questions to ask his chum.

Then, too, Perk kept on the alert for any peril that might by chance lie in wait along the trail—there were other dangers besides that solitary rattlesnake that might suddenly crop up to give them a chill—how about those nasty looking water moccasins that swarmed in the oozy swamp?—what of the ferocious bobcats such as were said to crouch on the lower limb of some tree close beside a woods trail, waiting to drop down on any moving object that came along?—yes, and other things just as creepy that his excited mind could readily conjure up?

They were, as Perk judged, about halfway to the spot where they had seen Mr. Rattler earlier in the day and the dusk was certainly beginning to make all objects look more or less dim, when Jack suddenly stopped, giving Perk quite a shock.

"Listen!" Jack was saying huskily.

A far-away and faint buzzing sound came to Perk's ears but instead of adding to his excitement it really seemed to cool his blood, for surely this had nothing whatever to do with snakes of any kind.

"Huh! must be a crate partner!" bubbled the relieved Perk.

"No question about that, Perk, and growing clearer right along, showing it's heading this way."

"Mebbe the Lockheed-Vega comin' back again?" ventured Perk.

"Hardly likely," he was told instantly, "For one thing you'll notice this motor racket swings up to us from the southwest, while the other ship struck off toward the east."

"That's straight goods," Perk hastened to admit. "Funny I didn't get on to that right away. Means our gent has a raft o' ships comin' an' goin' when he takes a notion to drop over here once in a while."

"Well, we can't stop to listen any longer," said Jack again starting off with the other trailing close at his heels.

The buzzing grew rapidly in volume, proving that no matter where the advancing plane came from, its destination must be that secluded little cove close to the coquina shack sheltering the man of many faces, who went from fields of excitement to those connected with society functions, entertaining guests in royal style or following his favorite pursuit along the enchanting line of adding to his prized collection of Florida birds. Presently Perk heard a splash and knew the amphibian must have reached its goal.



CHAPTER XXIII

A PUGNACIOUS RATTLER

In good time they reached the narrow point on the animal trail which marked the scene of their adventure with the rattlesnake. Perk, wishing to be prepared for anything that might greet them, had picked up a stout cudgel with which he believed he could give a good account of himself should the occasion arise.

But they passed the place and he was beginning to breathe easier when he was thrilled by a brisk and ominous sound from just ahead. Instinctively Perk clutched his chum by the arm and dragged him back a pace although this was really unnecessary, since Jack had stopped walking at the same instant as Perk.

"Gosh all hemlock!" broke out Perk, "what d'ye think o' that—jest awaitin' round for us to come along—what a 'commodatin' little pet he is!"

Jack could see the suggestive bulk of the coiled snake lying on the path, with scant room on either side for them to pass—oozy depths of the swamp on one side and an angry rattler on the other.

"Just blocks our game whichever way you choose to look at it," chuckled Jack with a shrug. "If we were monkeys, we could shin up a tree and climb over to that other one beyond, but since we're neither simians nor fox squirrels, we'll have to settle this thing some other way. Drop that club, brother—it's too short for this business by three feet. To try and use it on that chap you'd have to step up within range of his spring and before you could get in your lick it'd all be over."

"Jest as you say, partner," remarked Perk, throwing the stocky club away. "Wait up for me, Jack, an' don't let him skin out till I get back. I saw a stick just back a bit that ought to fill the bill okay."

Jack stood on guard and waited but not for long, since Perk speedily rejoined him, carrying a pole about eight feet in length and stout in proportion.

"Careful how you work it," advised Jack, who would rather have done the job himself but knew he would not be allowed by the ambitious one.

As Perk slowly advanced, waving his pole, the coiled serpent displayed signs of redoubled anger—louder buzzed his rattle while he drew back his flat head as though in readiness for action.

"Hold it there, buddy!" snapped Jack. "Now get a firm grip on your pole and draw back for a vicious rap—you've got to get him square in the middle and follow it up with more whacks in a big hurry. Don't step any closer whatever you do. Now, give him fits, Perk!"

This the other proceeded to do with might and main. The sprightly buzz suddenly ceased as the great folds of the monster began to squirm and writhe—Perk lifted his pole and put in another blow for good measure.

"Huh!—guess now he's got his for keeps," gasped the victor in the singular duel as he managed to get in a third and deciding stroke that crushed the flat head of the reptile and forever ended its capacity for business.

They were soon bending over the still squirming snake, Perk eagerly measuring its length by footing it off and announcing it to be just one inch over five feet.

"Gimme just a minute so's to whip off that bully rattle, partner," he was saying as he produced a big pocketknife and opened its large blade. "I want it to show if any guy ever questions the truth o' my yarn 'bout these here Florida rattlers. There you are, an' now I'm ready to move on. But we got to keep our eyes peeled, 'cause I been told these critters nearly allers have a mate somewhere near by. An' I'm meanin' to hang on to this bully pole, since we got to come back this way more'n a few times, seems like."

Nothing else cropped up to disturb their peace of mind and in due time the pair arrived at the secluded lagoon where they had left their aircraft so artfully concealed. Apparently nothing had happened in this quarter since they started forth on their mission, and yet what strange things had they not seen inside those few hours.

"Seems like supper'd come in fair good jest new," Perk remarked after they had climbed carefully aboard and were once more comfortably seated in their accustomed places, "but sorry to say it's bound to be only a 'pology for real grub—dry fare and never even a drop o' water to wash it down with." And he emitted a disgusted grunt, as if to display a proper amount of displeasure over the doleful fact.

"I noticed a well of some sort just back of that shack," remarked Jack as if he too, shared in this moan over the absence of drinking water. "When we go back we'll try and snatch a drink apiece so as to take the rusty feeling out of our throats. Until then we'll have to put up with it, partner."

Necessity knows no law and so Perk was compelled to grin and bear it. Just the same, as they were munching their simple fare,—and little of that in the bargain—Jack could hear him muttering to himself and chuckling from time to time as though he managed to squeeze more or less pleasure in simply mulling over a multitude of his favorite dishes until one would have imagined it was a waiter in a cheap eating joint down on the Bowery enumerating what the house offered for dinner—a la O. Henry.

Later on Perk gave signs of being what he called dopey, whereupon Jack asked whether he felt inclined to start out again or should it be left to just one of them—meaning himself, of course,—to undertake the further job of spying.

"Not much you don't monopolize the fun," Perk told him point blank. "I'm bound to step along with you even if there'd be a legion o' them rattlebugs lyin' in the trail awaitin' to sting us. When I get started on anything I gen'rally keeps right on with it, even if I have to wade through hell-fire. An' that goes, partner, see?"

"I knew you'd say that, brother," Jack assured him, seeing Perk act as though hurt by the insinuation that anything would tempt him to let his pal meet the danger alone. "If you feel a bit empty down below, just rub your tummy briskly, then pull in your belt a notch or two and it'll make you imagine you're full-up to the brim. I'll be ready to start off inside another ten minutes."

Jack spent most of this time rummaging around in the locker where he kept his own personal belongings. Perk knew when he got out that little but valuable hand flashlight, by means of which they expected to be able to keep on the winding and narrow trail when heading once more toward the lonesome coquina shack on the border of the great inland sea.

"But I'm up in the air when it comes to knowin' what else he's stuck in his pockets," Perk told himself, though somehow he managed to refrain from asking questions nor did Jack seem anxious to enter into any explanations.

"We'll leave things here all fixed so as to make a quick take-off," was what the chief pilot remarked as they prepared to step ashore and while he did not see fit to offer any explanation with regard to just what he had in mind, Perk felt thrilled to believe there was already some daring plan taking form in his comrade's wide-awake brain that might be carried out if only the conditions seemed favorable, and the weather proved considerate.

As they walked slowly along Jack kept frequently snapping his light on and off so that they could take an instantaneous inventory of what lay just beyond their feet for the night proved exceedingly dark although all that would be changed after a while, when the late moon climbed into sight.

Perk, just as he promised himself, had made certain to pick up that serviceable pole with which he had dispatched the rattlesnake and this he kept poking out ahead, as if to stir up any lurking reptile that might be lying coiled in the path.

His nervousness increased as they drew near the spot where the one-sided fight had taken place. He had apparently been brooding over the matter, wondering if the mate of his victim could have come upon the scene of the tragedy and sensing what had happened, was lurking thereabouts, bent on exacting a terrible revenge in payment for the untimely demise of her partner.

When he felt certain they had passed this particular narrow part of the trail, Perk began to breathe easier, but he soon had reason to fear lest he was crowing too soon for just then he felt Jack buck up against him and heard him saying in a low but distinct voice:

"Hold up and listen, partner!"



CHAPTER XXIV

ON HANDS AND KNEES

Even while Jack was saying those few words, Perk had recovered from his sudden alarm, since he already knew the reason for the other's bringing him to a halt.

"Huh! that crate's startin' off again, seems like," he muttered.

Indeed, it was a foregone certainty for the splash of water told the story as well as the abrupt explosions of a working motor. Then, too, these suggestive sounds all came from directly ahead.

Then Perk had another gripping fear which he imagined must have also seized his companion—that the chief object of their concern might be a passenger aboard that ship, heading once more across the state to Miami and that in consequence, all of Jack's carefully laid plans would meet the same untimely fate as befalls an ambitious soap-bubble when struck by a stray puff of air.

So they continued to stand there and listen to the telltale sounds with sinking hearts. Perk in particular seemed to be dreadfully put out by this fresh upset and was grinding his strong teeth as though desirous of letting out an explosive but restrained by the fact of Jack being so close at hand.

"Gee whiz! this here is what I call tough luck, Boss," he grumbled, more because he hoped Jack might be able to dispel his fit of the blues in some way or other, having a much clearer vision than he himself possessed.

"Oh! I don't know, partner," said Jack in a wholesome, optimistic tone. "It looks a little dark, but just wait a minute or so before you croak—after all, the thing may not be so bad—it doesn't pay to jump at conclusions."

"Shucks! that's me all over, old hoss, but I'm sure glad to hear you say the last chance ain't snuffed out yet," mumbled Perk contritely, but at least he had gained his point which was to coax Jack to mix a little good cheer in with the gloom that had descended on his, Perk's soul.

"There, he's off!" declared Jack as a significant change in the clatter so thoroughly understood by any airman announced the hop-off from the surface of the lake.

"An' nothin' happened to give him a spill, either," Perk went on to say and the disconsolate vein in his tone told plainly enough how he had been secretly hugging to his heart a hope that the motor of the Lockheed-Vega crate might suddenly develop some fault, compelling the flight to be abandoned in its inception.

"Even that fact may yet turn out to be the best thing we could wish for," Jack told him confidently, being built on the order of a fellow who could see something to rejoice over in nearly every occurrence, no matter how thick the gloom surrounding it.

"There he swings up an' is off—a slick jump, b'lieve me an' that guy's some square shooter in the bargain—knows his business okay anyway. But Jack, tell me, you don't think he's got our man alongside him, do you?"

"Well, one thing seems to tell me that isn't a fact, Perk."

"Yeah, an' what might that be?" demanded the other quickly.

"Notice that he's already banking, so as to lay his course toward Cape Sable—square in the south—get that, don't you Perk?"

"I swan, but you're right there, Jack—which looks kinder like he didn't mean to strike out for Miami, don't it?"

"More than likely he's hitting out for Cuba, or if he veers to the west, it's Mexico or Honduras he means to head for."

Perk heaved a big sigh of relief.

"Hot ziggetty! but that sounds good to me, partner," he observed with renewed animation as hope again sang a sweet song in his heart. "Then there's a real chance he ain't got our man alongside."

They stood there and continued to listen as the sounds made by the flight of the retreating seaplane gradually grew fainter and even for brief spells died out altogether.

"He's out o' the pictur' anyhow," Perk finally commented when they could no longer catch the least thud of the working motor—only a more pleasing sound in the shape of gentle wavelets running up the shore of the great lake being borne to their ears.

"Yes, and since that's settled we'd better be making a further move ahead," Jack was saying, in his sensible way.

Accordingly the advance was renewed, nor did they take any less precaution because of the departure of the flying boat.

As before, Jack continued to frequently make good use of his little flashlight, which proved its worth just as had been expected. So speedy were the flashes that it did not seem possible for any one to notice them unless he chanced to be on the watch for something suspicious and Jack hardly anticipated such a thing as that.

Apparently the one who had planned the raid believed there was only one course for them to pursue and that was to keep on as though everything was just as they had hoped. Even though an adverse Fate chose to cheat them them of their intended prey on this particular occasion there would be other days to come,—and had he not promised to trap his man as well as to procure all needful proof to secure his conviction?

They were soon drawing close to their goal—already Jack had glimpsed a shred of light gleaming through the intervening brush which proved most conclusively that the shack could not be wholly deserted.

"Good enough!" Perk whispered when this comforting fact had been brought to his attention, "we'll get his goat yet, partner."

Their progress was slowed up at this point for Jack no longer believed it good policy to make use of his flashlight. They had to partly feel their way along, using both hands and feet to detect the presence of any obstacle that was apt to cause them trouble.

Still, the night was long and there was no desire to make haste—if they waited until those in the shack were apt to be sound asleep it would be much easier to carry out their plan of campaign without any chance of interruption.

Now they could get faint glimpses of the little cove, which the visiting planes were wont to use as a hiding place, taxiing thither after splashing down on the surface of the nearby lake.

Perk made a mental note of the fact that the cove was quite empty, no hostile crate bobbing up and down on the water—possibly this induced the dreamer to indulge in a hope that should the occasion warrant such a thing, they might taxi their own ship around and make use of that snug harbor safe from any ordinary gale that chanced to strike treacherous Okeechobee.

Now they could see the light much better and even make out that it came from a certain window of the coquina shack—up to then Perk acknowledged to himself that he had not known whether the modest little building boasted of windows or not, having discovered no evidence of their presence.

So, too, he now made but a certain dark spot just beyond the shack which he strongly suspected might be the well shed of which the more observant Jack had spoken earlier in one of their pow-wows.

Now that he found himself so near the spot where it seemed likely he could refresh his dry throat with a cup of fresh water, Perk was growing wild with the eager desire to be doing so. He Wondered whether his companion could have forgotten his promise and even opened his mouth to remind him concerning it but thought better of it for already Jack had changed the line of his advance and was beginning to steer his pal in the direction of the well.

In order not to take any unnecessary chances it was found that they must make a little detour in order to get past that shaft of light proceeding from the window in the rear of the shack. Perk even begrudged the brief time taken in making this half circuit, though recognizing the wisdom governing Jack's change of course. He dared not try to whisper now, lest his hoarseness cause him to make a sound so harsh and loud that it might be carried to hostile ears and be the cause of their undoing.

Then, after another delay when Jack imagined he had caught a suspicious little scratching sound, as of something moving, they drew up on hands and knees alongside what seemed to be a rustic shelter covering an opening with a real windlass, rope and all, to fill Perk's heart with joy in the belief that his throat was in a fair way of having its roughness relieved in short order.



CHAPTER XXV

PERK DEMANDS MORE WATER

It was queer what chanced to be passing through the mind of Jack Ralston while they were thus creeping toward the little well in the rear of the lonesome shack on the bank of Okeechobee. He had been reading a novel that was supposed to cover the famous and successful attempt on the part of General Fred Funston to penetrate the mighty wilderness in the north of Luzon, the main island of the Philippine group and effect the capture of the native rebel chieftain, Aguinaldo who, with some of his associates, had taken refuge in a lonely cabin at a most inaccessible point.

So vividly had the author described the manner in which the soldier and his companions crept up when making ready to seize their prey, that it was still haunting the mind of the airman and somehow the conditions just then confronting himself and Perk seemed to be very similar. He only hoped they would prove to be just as successful in their mission as Funston was when he carried Aguinaldo back to Manila, and thus broke the backbone of the native uprising against the authority of Uncle Sam.

Perk was already reaching out toward the bucket he discovered perched on the rocky border of the well. Jack could hear him give a chuckle of satisfaction on rinding it half full of water and felt himself a bit tickled to see the way in which his chum proceeded to greedily fill up with the precious liquid.

Little Perk cared if the water chanced to be stale—he had no complaint coming on that score as long as his parched throat and tongue came in for a good soaking and the choking sensation was immediately relieved.

Perk must have suddenly remembered his lapse of manners, for in the midst of his drinking spree he stopped short and stepped back as though to invite his comrade to take his turn.

This Jack showed no hesitation in doing, drinking long and with considerable ardor though he knew when to stop, which was what Perk did not for no sooner had the other released his hold on the bucket than Perk took another turn.

In the end Jack was compelled to almost drag the other away from the well possibly for fear he burst or else some one come out of the shack and discover them prowling there, unwelcome intruders on Oswald Kearns' privacy and a positive threat to his peace of mind.

It was hardly a time and place for doing any talking, no matter how subdued their voices. Jack kept hold of the other's arm and thus started to steer him in the direction of the lighted window.

Perk must have guessed what his pal had in mind for he made no resistance whatever, just allowed himself to be steered as his comrade wished. Stooping down they crawled past, and then closer until they could begin to glimpse the interior of the room where the light was dispelling the darkness.

The first thing that struck Jack was the fact that the place had been fixed up with an eye to comfort—it looked almost luxurious with its easy chairs and imported rugs that must have cost a considerable sum. Evidently Oswald Kearns had been too long accustomed to comfort to deny himself such luxuries even when seeking seclusion in this out-of-the-way retreat.

Then Jack found himself looking upon the man who had for years been one of the greatest mysteries the Treasury Department at Washington had ever endeavored to trap, He was sitting in a big leather-covered easy-chair, smoking a cigar and busily engaged with a sheaf of important looking papers. From time to time he would refer to a volume that had the appearance of a ledger or account book and to which he seemed to attach great importance.

How the sight sent a succession of thrills through the whole being of the Secret Service sleuth—here he found himself within arms length of the master crook who had laughed to scorn all previous efforts of the Government to take him with the goods on.

Vainly had every possible attempt been made to catch him off his guard; he had proved himself to be too crafty for the best revenue officers put upon his track. And when failure after failure became the rule, the Big Boss had decided to change the policy they had hitherto followed and put an air pilot on the job as being able to go swiftly and easily where others had been so cleverly balked.

Then Jack began to wonder where the other two men might be, for thus far he had failed to discover either in the room of the lighted window. Could it be possible both of them had sailed away aboard that Lockheed-Vega ship, bent on some important mission which the Master had entrusted to their care?

He could not bring himself to believe this possible—that he against whom so many hostile hands were raised would be willing to stay all by himself in such a lonesome place unless it seemed unavoidable. One or both of those aids must be somewhere around.

Just the same he could see no other room connected with the stone building—it was always possible, however, that there might be another shack—perhaps a crude palmetto-leaf hut, such as the poor whites in the backwoods lived in, somewhere not far away that served them for a shelter when it rained or a bustling Norther came howling down from the regions of snow and ice and zero temperatures.

Jack had about reached this conclusion when he discovered a figure, covered with a fancy Navajo blanket, on a cot in a corner of the place—yes, there was a head on a sofa pillow such as would be more in place over at the beautiful Miami estate than here in such a desolate region.

Somehow he quickly assumed this must be the shorter party—which would go to prove the other fellow might have accompanied the pilot of the departed airship.

When he had decided this to his entire satisfaction, Jack was able to figure on certain matters. It undoubtedly meant that he and Perk would have just two pitted against them in case things came to a showdown, making it an even fight with victory perching on the side that was quickest at the draw.

He seemed to remember every warning he had received in connection with not under-rating this remarkable man, so greedy for excitement that wealthy though he was, he would seek all manner of thrilling adventures just to have the laugh on the Government, especially the Secret Service men toward whom he was said to entertain a feeling of almost wolfish hatred.

So too, did Jack take note of every object spread before his searching gaze in the shack where Oswald Kearns seemed to be busying himself in the pleasing occupation of making up his secret accounts.

That book, as well as the sheaf of papers rather fascinated the watcher outside the window—somehow Jack conceived the idea that there before him was spread all the incriminating evidence needful to bring the erratic career of this amazing man to an abrupt end—to put a stop to the mammoth illegal operations he had so long conducted in secret and by which he had impudently flaunted all the powers in Washington, just as though he had sent them a message worded, "Well, what are you going to do about it? Break up this fine game if you can."

If only they were able to get him fast in the net before he could make any attempt to destroy that book and those papers—Jack felt convinced a generous Fortune had not allowed him to see such a prize only to snatch it out of his reach through fire or some similar means of destruction.

But here was Perk pulling at his sleeve as though he had a communication of the utmost importance to pass along. Accordingly, Jack, who himself was ready to effect a change of base so that speedy action might be decided on, moved back from the window.

"What is it, Perk?" he whispered, at which the other began to make suggestive gestures toward his throat, and nod his head violently.

"I c'n feel it comin' on again, partner—the ticklin' feelin' you know, an' I'm afraid I'll start acoughin' to beat the band—must have more drink."

It seemed nothing could be done until Perk's sensitive throat had been properly attended to, so once more they crept and trailed along until the vicinity of the well had been reached. Here Perk started to swill, as though his capacity for holding water had no limit. It was just at this particular moment, when both of them were hanging over the well curb that a shaft of light suddenly enveloped them as the back door of the shack opened and the figure of the short man came in sight with a new tin or aluminum bucket in his hand as though his purpose was to get a supply of fresh water.



CHAPTER XXVI

THE FIGHT AT THE WELL.

"Gosh!"

Perk hissed this one word even as he ducked down behind the well curbing at sight of the figure in the doorway. Jack was not a breath behind him, both acting through mere intuition or instinct.

Whether they had been seen was the important question flashing through the mind of each. There was no sudden outcry which seemed a favorable sign, Jack decided and the short, muscular man was even then emerging from the interior of the shack, evidently bent on replenishing the drinking water supply.

Perk thrust his eager hand into the pocket of his leather jacket to grip his automatic with the idea that he would be needing it before many more seconds had ticked off. In his mind he entertained a comprehensive view of what their plan of action would most likely be—to down this husky chap, either by means of a blow or else a bit of lead delivered where it would do the most good—then a swift rush into the shack and crushing the ex-war veteran before he could fully grasp the meaning of it all.

Easy enough to figure it out after this manner, but there must be considerable chance that matters would not work so smoothly. For one thing it must be considered that Oswald Kearns was no weakling, but a more or less athletic figure, accustomed to feats of strength and agility beyond the measure of an ordinary man. Then, too, he was known to be irrational, even to the length of being considered dangerous when thoroughly aroused and it went without saying that he must always be well armed for in his reckless way of living he must many times be in close touch with desperate characters, some of whom might conceive it worth while to plot against his liberty, with a heavy ransom in their mind's eye.

It was quite too late for either of them to think of slipping off, since the light from the interior of the shack poured through the open door and dissipated the friendly darkness in that especial vicinity.

Consequently all they could do was to continue to crouch there in the shadow of the well curbing, and await whatever was scheduled to come to pass.

If Perk had been so eagerly praying for something to breeze along that would give him the thrill he loved so well, his wish seemed well on the road of being realized since everything was set for a dramatic discovery with its attendant speedy action.

It was apparent that after all the man could not have glimpsed their vanishing faces as they ducked so swiftly, for he continued to advance in the direction of the well and Perk could hear him softly singing, just as though he might be a "musical cuss," as Perk told himself with one of his customary chuckles since his first stab of alarm had passed off under the realization that they had another chance.

Jack, too, was telling himself what a peculiar state of affairs had come upon the stage—here, with an ambush lying in wait before him, this man could step blithely along, swinging his aluminum bucket and softly warbling one of the most recent hits from a comic opera—Jack had himself heard the song on the boards of a great metropolitan theatre in New York—had even caught himself whistling the catchy air more than a few times since.

The man who seemed to be so well pleased with his fortunes while basking in the favor of the wealthy chief of smugglers had a little surprise waiting for him at the end of his rainbow—if those lurking shadowy figures knew their business and managed it as they should, he would be singing quite a different air before a great while, perhaps interlarding his humming with a choice variety of expletives concerning the cruelty of Fate.

A few more steps and he would have reached the well—then what must take place? Perk was asking himself as he crouched there, his muscles set and his breath coming in little noiseless gasps—he resembled nothing so much as a cat ready poised to make a deadly leap upon a fat robin struggling with a worm that it had pulled halfway out of its hole.

There was not one chance in twenty that the man could actually reach the well, drop the bucket down, switch it around in order to induce water to enter and then make use of the windlass so as to draw it to the top, without discovering the presence of those two huddled forms; so Perk did not deceive himself in the least with any extravagant hopes of the affair passing off smoothly and their plans being uninterrupted.

Now the man had set his pail down and was giving the well bucket a switch as though intending to dislodge any stale water it might contain. From this little incident Jack understood that undoubtedly the man must himself have left the water they had used up in the bucket when last at the well and subconsciously remembered the fact.

He went about the job of lowering the rope with the manner of one quite familiar with the necessary movements, pulling the rope from the barrel of the windlass hand over hand. Then there came a splash, a gurgle and following these symptoms of success the man, with a jerk at the rope, managed to sink the bucket.

Next he started to turn the handle in order to fetch the bucket to the top of the well. In order to get a better purchase on the handle, he took a step to the left, and as luck would have it, struck his knee against the crouching form of Perk.

Then came a quick look downward, since he was naturally curious to know what sort of object he had collided with—possibly he may even have had a sudden suspicion it would turn out to be some native beast from the neighboring swamp—possibly a panther, since such animals had been known to frequent the western shore of Okeechobee as a hunting-ground in days gone by.

Of course he instantly made a startling discovery, since there was enough light to show him the form of a man doubled up against the rocky well curbing.

It would have been instinctive for the man to have let out a yell on making this discovery but he did not have the chance to give tongue, at least fully, for Perk made a lightning-like spring and had both hands clasped about his throat effectually throttling the intended shout so that it emerged only as a queer sound, rather on the order of a bull alligator's bellowing suddenly cut short.

That was but the beginning of the affair as Perk knew only too well it must prove to be. He found he had a tough proposition on his hands for the man struggled desperately, as who would not on finding his wind suddenly cut entirely off with a pair of iron-like hands pressing his throat as though it were gripped in a vise?

Jack sprang up, ready to lend his pal any necessary assistance if only the opportunity showed itself. Just then all he could make out in the dim light was a whirling set of wildly struggling figures, looking for all the world like one of those teetotums children delight in spinning—only on an exaggerated scale.

Then they went down with a crash, first one on top and then the other in rapid succession. It would have made an excellent picture for the silver screen, Jack could not help thinking while he drew his automatic and kept tabs on that open door, more than half expecting to see Oswald Kearns dash wildly out with some sort of machine-gun in his hands, ready to take a chance in the game, knowing that the attack must have everything to do with his own safety.

Perk seemed to be hanging on with the tenacity of a bulldog, for not another peep did the wolfish man, whose throat he squeezed, give vent to as the slam-bang fight continued. It was lucky indeed there chanced to be a raised wall about the well or in their frantic staggering this way and that the wrestlers might have plunged down into the yawning aperture, much to their mutual discomfiture—as it was they smashed up against the curbing several times, to emit grunts at the rough contact.

Finally, Jack, to his relief, saw Perk slam his now weakening adversary to the ground and immediately follow this up by sending in a number of furious blows that took every atom of fight out of the unfortunate chap who collapsed as if wholly done for.

Perk himself was far from fresh—his breath came in gasps and he must have been trembling in every joint from the tremendous exertion put forth but as always, victory was sweet in his nostrils and after assuring himself that nothing further need be feared from the man he had downed, he struggled to his feet, and ranged himself alongside Jack, as if to declare his readiness to fight it out along those lines if it took all night.



CHAPTER XXVII

AT BAY

Jack had been keeping a watchful eye on the nearby shack, not knowing what moment a raging figure might come dashing forth armed with a rapid-fire gun and ready to sweep up the earth with the mangled bodies of himself and Perk.

Somewhat to his surprise, and greatly to his relief as well, nothing of the kind came to pass. Suddenly he realized that the door of the squatty little coquina rock building had been closed, for no longer did the light spread a banner out into the black night.

"Drag him back of the well here, Perk," he said softly, "we've got to make certain he'll give us no further trouble. Got that piece of stout rope I gave you?"

"Right here, partner—wrapped around my waist," and as he thus managed to make himself heard, even while so short of breath, Perk caught hold of the nearest leg of his late antagonist and without the least ceremony dragged the senseless man several feet just as he might a bag of meal—when head-over-heels in a real scrap Perk counted his opponents as so much junk whose fate it was to be handled without ceremony and yet after the row was over, no one could be more solicitous about binding up their hurts than Gabe Perkiser.

"Use the rope to fasten his ankles together," advised Jack, standing guard meanwhile with his automatic ready for business and his keen eyes roving around in search of signs along the trouble line, "and knot it half a dozen times so it would take a knife blade to get free."

"All done up brown and slick, Jack old hoss, now what?" announced Perk a minute or so later.

"Clap that new pair of bracelets on his wrists," further explained the head pilot briskly, "and be sure to frisk him for a gat or even a knife. You see, we're going to have our hands full with the boss and can't fool around with this chap any longer."

"His name is Mud!" scornfully declared Perk briskly as he completed his task with the manner of one to whom it had become an old story.

The fellow, it seemed, had recovered his senses for he tried to bite Perk's hand and received a solid thump on the head for his pains.

"So far, good," Jack was saying, half to himself. "Now let's move along to the house and make sure our bird hasn't skipped out while we were so busy at the well here. Got all the drink you want, Perk—we can't be coming back every little while just to wet your long neck!"

"It's okay with me, boy, let's go," the other announced with a chuckle.

Leaving their prisoner lying there they started an advance on the shack. Both eyed it carefully as they crept along and it was Perk who noticed the first favorable sign.

"Door's shut, partner, but the light's still on—you c'n lamp a streak down near the sill, think he's on deck yet—ain't cut an' run like a blue streak?"

"We'll soon find out," Jack assured him. "'Twouldn't be like a guy with his reputation as a scrapper to clear out so quick. I'm wondering whether he's fixing up some hot reception for us when we break in."

"Hot ziggetty! that is sure some rummy scrap," Perk muttered as he kept close tabs on the shack now close by as though he more than half anticipated seeing it suddenly burst into flames, or go up in fragments under the influence of an explosion.

Now they had reached the door and Jack made a slight effort to open it, but with no success.

"No use," he whispered to his kneeling mate, "it's got the bar down in place. Listen and see if you can catch a sound from inside."

A minute passed with both straining their hearing to the utmost—Perk even laid his head against the closed door so as to better catch any suspicious sound from within.

"Huh! guess they ain't nothin' doin', partner," he hissed in a disappointed tone, "thought I did get a little ruslin' sound, like paper bein' crumpled up when you're a'makin' a fire, but don't hear it no longer."

"Paper, you say?" snapped Jack uneasily, "I don't like that any too much."

"Why not?" asked the other, evidently at a loss to understand why such a simple little thing like that could annoy any one—what if the man at bay figured on setting fire to the hidden little retreat he had arranged here close to the lonely lake where he could slip away whenever he felt like shunning those society people over at crowded Miami—he surely had no intention of cremating himself and they could nab him if he started to make off.

"Paper—don't you know what he was doing when we peeped in—that book ought to be worth its weight in gold to us as evidence and that stack of papers that he was looking through—if he's given enough time he may put a match to the bunch and destroy everything that could be used against him. We've got to keep him from doing that, brother."

"Yeah—but how?" gasped the other, showing renewed signs of excitement as he visioned the holocaust with their fine plans going up in fire and smoke just when they seemed about to corral success.

Jack answered that question by striking the door with his foot, the result being a loud thump. Then he caught hold of his chum and dragged him to one side. None too soon was this done, for there came a series of staccato explosions from inside the shack and tiny gleams of light in various sections of the door told that bullets had passed through the wood in a number of places. Only for this prompt action on the part of the cautious one, either or both might have had leaden pellets lodged promiscuously about their persons with resultant painful sensations.

"Wow! that was what I'd call a close shave," whispered the kneeling Perk as he surveyed those suspicious holes in the badly riddled door, all on a line with any crouching human figure without.

There could no longer be any doubt as to the warlike intentions of the man they had at bay, his fighting spirit, first fed during those bloody days and nights in the Argonne, had burst into flame again and he shed his free and easy character as the lord of that wonderful palace at Miami to assume the rough and ready type of an adventure-loving smuggler chief, quick to defy all authority while the red blood rioted in his veins.

"We've just got to keep him on the jump," Jack was saying, "so's to occupy his attention and keep him from putting a match to those papers and that priceless account book with its addresses. Here, find a way to get in a smash or two on the door, like we meant to break in—I'll slip around and see what can be done at the window."

"Jack, I 'member there's a log a'lyin' right over there—why couldn't I use that an' really break through?"

"Too dangerous, buddy—he'd turn that terror of a machine-gun on and wipe us off the map. Do what I'm telling you, only keep back so he can't get you when he shoots again."

"Just watch my smoke," grunted Perk, stooping to feel around for some object that could be made available for the purpose of a door knocker.

"Wait," he heard the other saying as he was starting to move off. "Here's a little pile of rocks—pick up one and toss it on the roof of the shack—make him think we're climbing up, meaning to break in that way—anything to keep him so busy dodging and firing he'll have no time to start that blaze."

Perk grasped the main idea, which was to fight for time—given even half a chance, he knew his pal would find some way to accomplish the end he had in view which was to take Kearns a prisoner with enough positive evidence of his guilt to convict him when placed on trial in a Federal court.

Hastily then did Perk scramble for the rocks mentioned by his companion—it was much too dark for him to see where they lay, but he used his common sense with such signal success that almost immediately he found what he sought.

To toss up a good-sized rock with such vim that it came down on the roof with a loud bang was the work of a few seconds. Hardly had the crash sounded than Perk had another missile on its way and as long as the pile held out he meant to keep up a continual fusillade that would have the man inside guessing.



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE COME-BACK

It was more or less fun for Perk to keep up that bombardment as long as he had any ammunition left—the heavy thumps on the roof continued to follow each other, like blasts in a quarry or an admiral's salute when the "old man" took a notion to come aboard.

So, too, would each concussion be followed by a spurt of gunfire from behind the closed door of the shack showing that Oswald was alive to the situation and must be enjoying his share in the strange engagement quite as much as the fun-loving Perk did his part.

If the little rock pile held out and there were enough ammunition belts for the machine-gun handy, the chances were that the roof of the bungalow would assume the nature of a sieve and leak when the next heavy rain storm set in.

Perk was fully aroused now, and awake to his part of the bombardment—his mind began to figure just what other means lay within his reach to continue engaging the attention of the rat in the trap after the last rock had been fired.

Some of them he knew had rolled off the slightly sloping roof after accomplishing their duty. If only he could lay hands on them they might be made to serve again but the darkness would make this problematical. There was that log he had mentioned to Jack—with it he fancied he might do something to keep up the feverish interest in the game and hold Oswald's undivided attention.

What added more or less to the thrill he was enjoying was the fact that at any minute the ready marksman inside might succeed in reaching him with a bullet fired at some new angle. Jack had told him how Kearns was said to be quite a wizard at making bullseyes in a flying target either with a pistol or a rifle.

He was still going heavy although nearing the end of his ammunition, when something not on the calendar came along, something so unexpected that Perk was taken quite by surprise. A weighty and metallic object struck him on the head with such violence that he saw a million stars all at once, as though a myriad of rockets had exploded simultaneously high in the air.

He went down like a stone, his senses reeling under that frightful impact and yet half conscious of the fact that some one must have come up behind him in the darkness and struck him with a heavy weight.

Now he could feel hands groping about his person as though seeking to find where to follow up that first blow with another that would effectually wind up his career for keeps.

Rendered desperate by the nature of his situation Perk threw up both hands and chancing to come in contact with a human form, closed in with what might almost be called a death grip—his one object being to thus hold the unseen enemy close and prevent him giving a second blow that would be in the nature of a knockout.

He met with fierce resistance, but no matter how desperately the other struggled and fought he was unable to break Perk's terrible hold, so like that of a fighting bulldog, once its teeth have closed for keeps.

There the two antagonists rolled to and fro, striving in turn to get on top, only to be over-turned in rotation. What made it all the more exciting was the fact that the man in the shack, hearing all those queer noises, must imagine his enemies were trying to burrow under the door for he kept up frequent furious bursts of gunfire and at any moment an unlucky roll was apt to bring the wrestlers within range of the hail of bullets.

One thing favored Perk—he was by degrees getting over the deadening sensation following that frightful blow on his head—apparently the other was weakening in the same proportion that Perk was gaining strength, showing that he must have been in anything but prime condition when the tussle started.

It was this potent fact that gave Perk his first inkling as to the identity of the man with whom he struggled. At first he took it for granted the fellow was the tall confederate they had noticed with Kearns during the late afternoon, and who had perhaps been away and returned to the shack just at this interesting moment to find it in a state of siege.

He had hardly begun to get an inkling as to the true state of affairs when one of his hands, in seeking to get a firmer hold, chanced to come in contact with something cold and hard. Then he understood just why his antagonist seemed to be so handicapped in the scramble—he could stretch his hands apart only so far—they were apparently held fast in some mysterious fashion.

It burst upon Perk like a bomb from a sky chaser—why, after all this was an old friend of his, one whom he had only recently been hugging with all his might and main—in fact no other than the short confederate of Kearns whom they had left beside the well but a brief time previously.

In some manner, which was a complete mystery to Perk, he had managed to get his legs free from that binding rope which had been wound around and around his ankles in many coils and then knotted half a dozen times. Perk found it hard to realize this puzzling fact, but just the same he knew it must be the truth.

He proceeded to continue his rolling process with additional vim, partly because he now knew the other could not get a chance to whack him again with both hands handcuffed—for that was what had actually occurred and it proved his first surmise—that hard metal had come in contact with his cranium.

Presently it came about that Perk was enabled to clutch the throat of his antagonist and for the second time close his fingers on his larynx, shutting off his wind completely and causing history to repeat itself.

The fellow gave up immediately, thus hoping Perk would diminish that paralyzing grip which the other condescended to do. When this had been carried through Perk made up his mind not to trust to a rope again—in the first place he had no rope and even if this were not the case he had for the time being lost all confidence in ropes as restraining agents.

He remembered he had a second pair of steel bracelets in one of his pockets, having fetched two pair along with the idea they might have to include some pal of Kearns' before finishing their job.

He quickly had the fellow lying inert and acting as though he did not have another bit of fight left in him. Managing to pull out the handcuffs, Perk first tested them for size, and finding he could snap them shut after circling the ankles of his prisoner he did so with a vim. This would effectually prevent the man from getting any distance away, since he could move his feet only a few inches at a time at the best.

Perk struggled to his feet, feeling more or less dizzy. His first natural act was to put a hand to his head, and feel it gently, in order to ascertain the character and extent of his injuries. There was a cruel lump on his crown and he knew blood was streaking his face but on the whole he did not believe he was very badly hurt—perhaps after the double beating the other fellow had received at his hands he was worse off than Perk—an idea that started the latter chuckling, even if the act caused him a sudden dart of pain that made him wince.

Then he remembered what was going on, knowledge of which had been knocked out of his head by the unexpected fight that had taken place. How about Jack?

He dimly remembered hearing further shots from behind the barrier, although unable to decide whether the bullets continued to break through close to the bottom of the door or otherwise. Could this later fire have been directed at Jack, who had unwisely exposed himself at the side window?

Perk was strongly tempted to disobey orders and hasten around the corner in order to learn the worst. If that daredevil inside had hurt his pal he would be mad enough to find some way of blowing up the shack and the gas-mad ex-soldier along with it, regardless of consequences. He only waited long enough to run his swollen hands over the recumbent figure of the man in irons so as to make sure he could not play the same mean trick a second time. Finding everything fast, he turned away from the scene of his recent ruction, and hurried around the corner of the shack, bent on backing up Jack or, in case his pal had been placed out of the running, to avenge his injuries without delay.



CHAPTER XXIX

A LAST RESORT

Meanwhile how fared Jack in his share of the attempt to corner the defiant and persistent law-breaker?

He had crept around the corner after leaving his chum, fully convinced that some sort of heroic measures must be brought to bear on the ugly situation if they hoped to succeed.

One thing had already been amply proved—this was the unmistakable fact that Oswald Kearns must be having one of his occasional brain sprees, the result of his wartime gassing when he was apt to tip over his balance and for the time being imagine himself beset by a myriad of bitter foes whom it was his duty, as well as privilege, to mow down, regardless of everything. Acting under this delusion he was doubtless resting under the belief that these were Hun machine-gun squads secreted in nests in the Argonne and that he was duly recruited by Heaven to round them up, disseminate their number, and fetch a goodly bunch into the American lines as prisoners of war.

His readiness to shatter the door of his own lodge was evidence of his obsession, Jack firmly believed and from which he deduced the opinion that as long as his equipment held out he was ready to keep up that hot bombardment under the belief that the enemy were falling like dead leaves in the frosts of late Fall.

This being the case, Jack understood how exceedingly careful he must be not to expose even the tip of his nose, since everybody said Oswald was a most wonderful hand with firearms.

No sooner had he turned the corner of the rock shack than he made a discovery that gave him some satisfaction. At least the man inside had not considered it necessary that he extinguish the lamp for there was a certain amount of light coming from the window—only tiny lances, showing that some sort of shade had been drawn down as far as it would come.

So Jack crawled hastily forward, bent on taking a peep if it could be accomplished without too much risk. Having gained a position directly under the window, he considered just how he must go about it and so discovered that a plant of some sort—perhaps a young orange tree, was growing alongside the shack.

Taking hold of a sprig, he gently moved it across a portion of the opening and on finding it attracted no attention from within he next pushed his head up with the bunch of green foliage.

This resulted in giving him a quick survey of the interior—he could see what had come before his vision on his previous survey but at first he failed to discover any human presence. The fact gave him a feeling of chagrin, under the impression that Kearns might in some mysterious way have been able to quit the rock house without being discovered and that they had been outwitted.

In that brief period of time Jack seemed to glimpse all manner of strange tunnels leading from the secret retreat of the smuggler to certain exits back in the pine woods, craftily constructed for just such an emergency as had now come to pass.

Then he suddenly changed his mind on realizing how next to impossible it would have been to construct such underground exits when the near presence of great Okeechobee would make digging quite out of the question, since water must of necessity seep into any such passage and fill it full.

Jack, looking further, had just managed to discover a leg that was thrust into view when Perk's first rock crashed on the roof, making a terrific noise. Following this came a burst of gunfire with the acrid powder-smoke filling the room and making seeing next to impossible.

Jack crouched down to do a little thinking as well as listen to the exchange of compliments between the warring forces—every loud detonation as a lump of coquina rock fell on the roof would be followed by its complement of rapid gunfire, just as though the man at bay was bound to keep up his side of the battle even if he had to create a shortage in his ammunition supply.

It was fierce work, yet bordering on the ludicrous, Jack told himself, meanwhile wondering just how long Perk's heap of missiles would persist, also what was bound to happen when the rock pile was gone. Doubtless the near-demented man inside must be working up to a feverish pitch under the impression that he was specially designed by Providence to annihilate the whole German army and open a clear path to an Allied march all the way to Berlin!

Then silence came—a silence that seemed to brood over the scene of hostilities as might a sea fog drifting in along the coast and baffling the most skillful of flyers.

Jack had discovered a stick that was some three feet in length and remembering an old and often tried trick known to frontiersmen away back in the Kentucky days of Daniel Boone, he meant to try it out in order to see if the ammunition of the besieged man had run out on him or not—something that was really essential he should know before proceeding to extremes and breaking into the fortress that was holding himself and Perk so persistently at bay.

Removing his leather cap with its dangling earlaps, he perched it on the point of his stick and proceeded to elevate the contrivance so that it might be seen by the vigilant eyes within.

The result was all that he could have asked, showing that this venerable Indian trick was just as workable as in the days of old.

A single shot sounded dully within the shack—there was a tinkling sound as if a speeding bullet had bored a hole through a pane of glass and down fell his helmet. Jack picked it up and chuckled to find he could poke an investigating finger through a hole that had certainly not been there before. What great luck his head had not been inside that helmet, he was telling himself on thus learning the wonderful accuracy of the marksman.

Things were again at a standstill, for as long as the half demented Kearns was able to make such excellent use of his firearm it would be suicide for either of them to try and break into the shack.

One thing Jack had managed to discover with that brief peep back of the friendly bunch of orange leaves—there was a little heap of papers in the fireplace, also the precious book he yearned to possess—yes, and he could even make out a smudge as though a match had been used to start a conflagration but owing to some puff of contrary air the blaze had fizzled and gone out—an especially providential favor in their behalf Jack had told himself.

Still, at any moment now the man with the crooked mind was apt to notice how his purpose had been baffled. Then he would make a second and possibly more successful attempt to destroy all incriminating evidence as to his connection with the smuggling of rum, aliens and precious stones into the country, contrary to the laws of the land.

What could he do should this crisis come upon him, Jack was asking himself as he crouched there and counted the minutes passing by? There was only one means for counteracting such a move on the part of the enemy and Jack had already convinced himself the occasion was fully ripe for it to be tried out.

On a previous occasion the same thing had handily proved its efficacy, so why not again? Desperate cases require desperate remedies, he kept telling himself as he groped in his pocket and extracted some small object therefrom, holding it tightly clinched while he again moved the orange leaves across the lower part of the window without extracting a shot from the guardian of the shack.

Then he nerved himself to take a look and received a shock for he was just in time to see Kearns down on his knees striking a match which he hastened to apply to the crumpled papers.

Seeing there was not a second to waste, Jack proceeded to hurl the tear-bomb he had been holding in his fist straight through the glass, so as to strike against the stone chimney and be shattered, releasing its powerful contents that would almost instantly fill the room and blind the man whose fingers held the burning match.



CHAPTER XXX

FETCHING IN THEIR MAN

There was now no further need for caution.

Jack saw the man inside stagger to his feet, drop his gun and throw both hands up to his face—he was starting to rub his eyes as though they had already commenced to feel the terrible effect of the pungent acid that would start the tears flowing in streams and render him temporarily blind before he could exercise his brain sufficiently to unbar the door and rush outside.

But already that tiny blaze on the open hearth was increasing, and would presently gain such headway as to threaten the utter destruction of the precious papers that they had come so far and braved all sorts of dangers to get. Something must be done instantly in order to prevent this threatening catastrophe.

So Jack, always quick to act, with one smashing blow sent the entire window sash flying into the room. He did not even stop to learn whether he had cut himself, but gave an upward spring, gained a precarious knee-hold on the window-sill and allowed himself to fall inside the room with its unseen gas contents which would of necessity act upon his eyes even as it already had done in the case of his intended prey.

Across to the fireplace went Jack—he could never tell just how he made that trip of a dozen feet with his sight already growing dim and his senses commencing to reel, but he knew that he started to stamp out every atom of those greedy flames, working like one possessed.

Then he clutched the reeling man by the arm and dragged him across to the window and bundled him out with as little ceremony as if he had been a sack of oats.

Blinded himself by this time and hardly knowing what he was doing, Jack managed to climb through the opening and drop down on top of the writhing figure on the ground.

Here Perk found them both as he came full tilt around the corner, realizing something not down on the bills as far as his knowledge went, must have taken place.

"Jack—what's happened—are you bad hurt, buddy?" Perk demanded excitedly as he bent down over his chum.

"All right—only had to use the tear-gas again—be better right off—don't let Kearns get away on your life!"

"Hot ziggetty! you jest bet I won't old hoss!" whooped the delighted Perk as he squatted alongside the still writhing Oswald, his automatic held in readiness only waiting for Jack to recover enough to take things in charge.

"Look in the room—see if the papers are safe—in the fireplace—he started to burn the whole batch and beat us to the scratch—had to give him the whole works to save 'em!"

Thus enlightened, Perk stood up and took a look then burst out in a joyous shout that would have done credit to any cow-puncher on earth.

"It's all dandy, Jack—papers safe an' we got our man ditto. Mebbe now I'll soon get a chance to treat my tummy to some decent grub, 'cause my ribs're stickin' to my backbone, I'm that empty."

Before long Jack's eyes ceased to sting and his vision once more became almost normal. By then, too, Kearns had come to his senses, with Perk keeping him subdued by means of prodding a weapon in his ribs.

Jack hunted around and found some rope with which they temporarily bound the arms and ankles of their prisoner. That accomplished he made haste to secure all the papers as well as the ledger which Kearns had been so eager to destroy when realizing that at last his scorn for the minions of the law had reaped its inevitable result—the pitcher gone once too often to the well—and that his game was up.

"What next, Boss?" Perk was asking, "mean to kidnap both o' these guys Jack?"

"It'll make our chances better with one showing a yellow streak and turning on his employer for State's evidence," was Jack's quick rejoinder, the idea being quite to Perk's liking as he speedily made manifest.

"Jumpin' jimcracks! we c'n tote the pair right nifty an' I'm meanin' to see that other guy gets all that's comin' to him, after that nasty crack on the coco he gimme with them irons. Say Jack, take a look at my head an' see if it's sound still—gee whiz! but it felt like the sky'd gone an' dropped down on me."

Jack speedily reassured him that although there was a lovely lump on the top of his head, it was nothing very serious. It was understood that there was not a minute to waste if they were wise. The Lockheed-Vega might blow in any time and give them trouble.

"We'll get both the prisoners together and Perk, you stand guard over them while I taxi our boat around here so as to save ourselves the job of moving them along the trail. Is it all right with you, buddy?"

"Sure is," came the ready reply. "I'll start a little chin with our honorable guest here an' see how he likes the idee o' sittin' up next Mr. Philip Ridgeway o' the Treasury Department an' findin' out that this time he's in the soup for keeps."

Already the prisoner had recovered his customary nerve for on hearing what Perk was saying he broke out in a laugh.

"Looks a bit serious for me, I own up, boys," he said. "I give you credit for being ace high above all your class, for you've played a clever game and beat me by a mile. So that was tear-gas you tossed into the room, was it?—thought I recognized the smell and I want to tell you, once that hits a chap's eyes and he doesn't care if a church steeple topples down on him, he's that paralyzed."

Jack lost no time in starting back to where the ship was hidden and having negotiated the distance along the perilous trail without running afoul of anything, he managed to toss the palmetto leaves overboard since there was no further necessity for camouflage. After coaxing his charge out of the narrow slip, and once on the open lake, he taxied down to the cove close to the coquina rock shack.

They managed to lug their prisoners aboard and stowed them away as well as circumstances permitted. Then Jack gave her the gun and they were off.

Once they found themselves on their way at a three thousand-foot ceiling and headed almost due northwest with Tampa as their goal, Perk slapped his pal on the back and gave vent to his high spirits.

"Oh how joyful it does seem, partner," he was saying, "to be startin' on the home stretch with our game played to a finish, the ducks bagged an' nigh ready for the spit. Somethin' to crow about this time, I guess boy. Mebbe the Big Boss up at Washington ain't goin' to be tickled pink when he gets the news an' knows we've grabbed Oswald by the heels with evidence aplenty to send him to Atlanta for a term o' years. This night flight promises to be the happiest ever for the pair o' us. I know I'm actin' like a loon, partner, but I jest can't help it—such bully occasions are too few an' far between in our line. An' now I wonder where we'll be sent for the next big job we tackle?"

"We'll know all that soon enough Perk," he was told by his comrade. "We deserve a little rest after this business is cleaned up, then we'll be ready to start out fresh and dandy, no matter if it takes us to the Wild West this time."

"Huh! why not?" grunted Perk with the air of one who was utterly indifferent as to whether he was given a mission that would take him to the other side of the world, as long as he had at his side the pal whom he loved so well and the backing of the Government to stand for expenses.

"We've worked the Mexican border to the limit, have jest cleaned up the worst smugglin' bunch along the Florida coast an' when the call comes for us to take a fling over the Colorado canyon, or above the snow capped mountain ranges, it'll find us ready an' all to the good!"

THE END