X
THE FIGHT IN THE AIR
“My father!” The Sky Buddy’s faces paled. “He’s been doped back there.”
Without a second’s hesitation Jim loosened his safety belt, and glanced about for something heavy, but there wasn’t a weapon available, so he sprang over the cock-pit, while Bob fought to keep the plane steady. Cold chills of horror were racing up and down his spine, but he kept to his task grimly, twisting around so that he could keep Jim in sight. He did not know who the dwarf was, for in his account of the evening before, his step-brother had said nothing of the pitiful little cripple, but as Caldwell got a look at the sinister figure crouched more like a beast than a human he felt nothing but loathing for the fellow. Vaguely he wondered how the stowaway had gotten there, and what deadly drug had been released in the rear cock-pit.
The force of the wind nearly drove Austin backwards, but he braced himself to keep his balance and clutching the strut, hauled himself along the fuselage. By that time the dwarf had seen the boy coming and with an evil leer, crouched to wait. With a quick lunge Jim reached the rim of the rear cock-pit and glanced through the transparent roofing. He saw his father, not asleep, but slouched low in his seat, his head dropped forward, his hands hanging limp in utter helplessness. With a choking sob the boy dropped, his fingers grabbed the outside latch, and he tugged frantically to lift the cover. For the time being he thought only of getting air to his father; perhaps it was not too late, but every second was precious. With strong fingers Jim managed to shove the latch loose, but before he could do more than that, the dwarf sprang on his back, his long arms entwining around the boy’s neck, his legs gripping Jim’s thighs. Vainly he tried to shake off the burden, or twist him around, but if the body of the dwarf was crippled, his limbs were amazingly powerful, and the arms as long as a very tall man’s. Desperately Jim clawed at the hands, and after seconds of futile effort, he managed to get a grip on the dwarf’s thumb and bent it down until he thought the fellow would let it be broken, but at last the assailant was forced to release his hold.
With a quick shake, Austin got free, but only for a moment. He had backed onto the roof of the cabin, and tried to smash it in with his heel, but the material, although frail looking, was a composition made in the Haurea’s laboratories and it resisted all his effort as if it were heavy steel. The dwarf sprang again, but Jim ducked under his legs, whirled as he came up, only to meet another furious onslaught, which toppled him backwards. He barely managed to save himself by catching hold of the strut, and the pair swung out over the rolling fog. The “Lark” banked quickly, enabling Jim to get a foothold, and it rode on its side until he was once more standing upright.
Above the roar of the engine, Jim could hear the dwarf bellow in his face, and his hands clawed at the boy’s throat. The fellow did not seem to mind whether he remained on the plane or fell off of it, but he was determined to drag Jim with him if he went down. His great fists began to hammer the boy’s face and body, but try as he would, Austin was unable to get in an effective blow or do more than defend himself feebly. He realized that Bob at the controls was watching every move, that he made the “Lark” sway, tip, and slant in every direction, but he realized that his Flying Buddy could do little to help him.
Finally a particularly vicious smash sent Jim reeling, his head toward the forward cock-pit, the dwarf on top of him. He caught his victim by the collar and twisted his fingers tightly in the cloth, then his eyes rested on Bob.
“Turn around and go back, or I’ll kill him,” he shrieked.
“All right. Let go of him and I’ll turn around,” Bob answered coolly.
“You turn,” the fellow roared and his great hand twisted more tightly.
“You win.” Caldwell leaned forward over the board, one hand went like a flash downward as the “Lark” began the curve to return. The dwarf glanced out to be sure that the order was being obeyed, then Bob swung up his shoe in his hand, but before he could do anything Jim renewed his struggles and the pair slid over the side into space.
Quick as a flash, Bob tipped the plane’s nose downward and followed into the swirling fog. The two dropped swiftly, but in a moment Caldwell saw Austin kick himself free from the clutching arms, sprawl out as he hauled on his parachute, and after a breathless moment, its dark folds opened around the boy’s body. Then Bob remembered that the Don had said that in an emergency it would act as a life saver. With the engine racing, the “Lark” cut through the air, dove between the two, partly righted itself and leveled out below Jim. Caldwell stood up as he calculated the distance, and a moment later he felt a thud on the top of the wings as Austin landed, then the pilot reduced the speed until it was barely enough to sustain the plane in the air.
It seemed to the boy as if months passed before he saw Jim’s legs slip over the edge of the wing. He watched tensely as his flying buddy climbed painfully down to the fuselage, hung on to the supporting strut, then, the instant he had regained his balance, he hauled the folds of the parachute out of his way and crawled toward the rear cock-pit. In a moment he had the lid up and dropped in beside his father.
“Wow!” Bob glanced at the indicators. They were a thousand up, so he banked around and began to climb as fast as the “Lark” could carry him. He set his lips tightly as he recalled the last he had seen of the dwarf tumbling through the fog toward the ocean below. The fellow had no parachute and the boy wondered why he hadn’t taken the precaution to equip himself with one of those in the rear cabin, but it was a mystery he could not answer. Painstakingly Bob studied the map and calculated the course. He had made up his mind to carry on until Jim could let him know how things were in the rear. They were above the fog again, and miles ahead the boy could see the blue waters of the Carribbean Sea stretched beyond the rim of mist. Just then he noticed the light flash over the radio and he picked up the speaking tube. Although he was mighty anxious to hear what his step-brother had to tell him, he dreaded to listen for he was sure that something terrible had happened to his step-father.
“Hello, Old Timer,” he tried to call cheerily, but his voice shook.
“Hello yourself. Thanks for the wing-ride. All right up there?”
“Sure thing. Are you battered much?” Bob asked.
“Some, but not enough to put me out,” Jim told him.
“How is Dad?”
“Doing fine. Guess when we opened our roof it drove fresh air through that communication tube and that kept him from smothering. Soon as I got this lid open, he came to.”
“Oh gosh, I’m glad. Has he told you what happened?”
“He doesn’t know. He said that he went to sleep and was dreaming of being choked, and he roused a bit. The air was stinging and his head got full of pains. He tried to signal to us but became unconscious before he could reach the set,” Austin explained tensely.
“Do you suppose that kid hid himself back there?”
“Yes. Folded himself in among the luggage. None of us thought to look about either cabin, and when we were up, and Dad asleep, the dwarf let out enough of the stuff he carried to make Dad dopey. Then he crawled out, smashed the tube and closed the place tight. We had that hole in front open, so it drove some air in; churned it around and we got the stench. That wasn’t a kid, it was a man, and whoop, Boy, he did fling a wicked arm. Could you see what happened to him?”
“He didn’t have a chute on and while I was trying to get under you, he fell on through the fog,” Bob answered.
“Perhaps some fishing boat or vessel will pick him up. Dad says that we must report what happened when we get to Belize.”
“Wonder who in blazes he was.”
“So do I. I saw him in Montego last night. Funny thing about it, Buddy. Some kids were tormenting him and that lad who brought us the gas chased them off. Later I saw the two of them together, but I didn’t think anything about it. Looks serious, Old Timer.”
“Sure does. Gosh, I suppose that pig-foot brought him out and told him to stowaway in the plane.”
“Expect that’s the answer. The dwarf wouldn’t have any reason to pick on us. I’ve got some of the tube and perhaps we can have the stuff analyzed and find out what it is,” Jim volunteered.
“He ordered me to turn back. I was going to give him a clip over the head with my shoe, when you slid off taking him with you. Glad you didn’t keep such company long.”
“I’m right particular about who takes me swimming in the Carribbean.”
“Wonder why he didn’t get into the extra chute,” Bob remarked.
“So do I, but I guess he was hiding under it. After this we shake the “Lark” out before we leave. Got anything to eat?”
“Sure. Shall I send some through to you?”
“No. There’s enough. After a while I’ll crawl forward and relieve you, Old Timer. Much obliged for the cooperation.”
“Always glad to oblige. I say, it seems queer to me that a man should take such a chance. If you saw them together, the fellow should have known you’d connect him with the slaughter.”
“Maybe, Bob, but I expect he planned we’d all go merrily down to Davie’s locker and it wouldn’t make a particle of difference what we had seen or suspected. I didn’t get the details of the plot from my late opponent but if I ever meet him again, you bet I will. So long.” The tube was hung up and Bob, with a mighty thankful heart attended to his job. He managed to get something to eat out of the hamper, and occasionally he’d wave an arm to his fellow travelers. Presently Mr. Austin was sitting up straight, apparently none the worse for his experience, and he smiled cheerily to his step-son.
Half an hour later the plane was sailing swiftly through clear skies, and before noon the rugged outline of the long coast of the Central American countries rose mistily out of the depths. It was a welcome sight to the flyers, and when the sun was almost straight above their heads, beating furiously, Bob started to glide to land and in a little while he had dropped onto a British field. Several English soldiers started toward them, and an officer came forward to speak to them.
“What’s this, a non-stop flight?” the man smiled.
“No, sir. We’ve made a couple of stops since we left Texas.”
“My name’s Seaman. Anything I can do for you?”
“Mine’s Austin.” He introduced himself and the Flying Buddies explained briefly why they had dropped out of the sky.
“Won’t you join us for lunch?” Seaman invited cordially. “We’re always delighted to have visitors.”
“Thank you. We shall be happy to join you. There is something which I must report and no doubt you can tell me just where to do it.”
“It will give me great pleasure.” The officer led the way to the barracks and his own quarters. “Make yourselves as comfortable as the heat will permit.” The three washed up, and then, seated under a whizzing fan, Mr. Austin told him about the stowaway. The man’s eyes were raised incredulously, but there was no doubting the story.
“You say that you are on a business trip; to Peru?”
“Yes. An important one.”
“No doubt someone, or group, is interested in seeing that you don’t get there,” Seaman suggested.
“That must be the solution, but it is very mystifying for we did not decide to fly down until two days before we started, and only a few close friends and the family knew how we were making the trip,” Mr. Austin told him.
“You are quite safe here, and we’ll do anything we can for you. I’ll make a report of your story, have it written this afternoon, and if you’ll sign it before you leave, it will be on record in case anything should come up later. If that dwarf is picked up by a boat he may claim that he was thrown out of the plane and make things unpleasant in that way. I’ll give you a copy of the papers with our signatures, and you can keep it on you to use if need be.”
“I have a part of the tube,” Jim explained.
“Leave a few drops of the stuff here and we’ll analyze it. See if our chemists can recognize the drug. There are hundreds of varieties picked up in the jungles every once in a while, but I never happened to hear of one acting as this did. You’re lucky to be here.”
“We certainly do appreciate your assistance,” Mr. Austin said warmly.
“I’ll have a guard posted by your plane while it is here so there will be no possible chance for a recurrence of what happened this morning, and when you are ready to refuel you can supervise the business yourselves. We have some good mechanics if you need any work done,” he offered further.
“We’ll give the bird an examination and be mighty glad to have your man’s help if anything has to be done,” Jim told him. Seaman touched a button and in a moment an orderly appeared. He stopped just inside the door, saluted briskly.
“Send in the clerk, and give orders that the American plane is to be carefully watched—strictly. No one, other than the guard, to go near it, except the flyers, of course.”
“Very well, sir.” The man touched his cap again, wheeled and went out briskly. The officer turned again to his guests.
“Did you mention a ranch, the K-A?”
“That’s ours,” Bob said quickly. “The K-A and the Cross-Bar; they’re great ranches.”
“I do not doubt it. I have a friend, an old school pal who is one of the Royal Mounted Police Chiefs stationed in Quebec. A few weeks ago I received a letter from him and he told me that he had been in Texas on some official business. As I recall it, he said he stayed at the K-A, and he mentioned some rather wild experiences at another place—”
“The Box-Z,” Jim laughed.
“That’s it. Chap’s name is Allen Ruhel.”
“He stopped with us. We met him first in the Province of Quebec, and another chap, named Bradshaw. We had some great times in Canada, near the line, and we told them if they came to Texas we’d pin horseshoes on them, but they didn’t stay long enough,” Bob announced.
“By George, then you are the Flying Buddies he spoke of. Said most disrespectfully that a couple of “American kids” had done a lot to locate the hangout of a border gang. He’s particularly grateful to you because it proved to his department that planes can be of the greatest assistance in the work to be done, and he’s getting some extra ones in his service,” Seaman smiled. “You did him quite a good turn.”
“Howling Nightingales, they did us a few,” Bob declared.
“Being pals, Allen and I pass on bits of information which may come in handy in our work. He told me that there was a grand round-up of criminals at that ranch in Texas, but he also said that two men, the son of one of the leaders and their chauffeur managed to escape the net. Do you happen to know if the man has been captured?”
“He wasn’t a couple of days ago. That’s Arthur Gordon. The sheriff at Crofton had the old ranch guarded by a young deputy. We had to stop there one day before Christmas, and discovered that Gordon was there, but he saw us first,” Jim explained.
“Which means that he got in some dirty work and made his get away.”
“He surely did.” Bob told the story briefly, not leaving out anything and with casual references to Don Haurea, and Seaman was greatly interested.
“He’s a bad boy all right-o. What do you suppose he wanted with carrier pigeons?”
“He must use them to send communication to some long distance point.”
“Yes, of course. It will be well to remember that he has a supply and notify the authorities to be on the watch for them. A plane can trail one easily if it is once spotted. It seems strange that Gordon abandoned your airplane.”
“That occurred to us, but we’re glad he did,” Bob grinned.
“Who wouldn’t be!”
“Probably the young fellow had another means of leaving the State or the country. He may even have had a plane of his own, and of course he would know that a description of your machine would be well broadcasted. He didn’t have gas enough to get very far, so he dropped out where he knew he would find friends and either hid until the matter blew over somewhat, or left immediately,” Mr. Austin volunteered.
“Very true.” Just then the clerk appeared with pad and pencil, and Seaman dictated briefly the story of the dwarf’s attempt to suffocate the air travelers and his probable fate. The clerk took it on the typewriter, and when it was finished the Texans and the two Britishers signed it in triplicate.
“You keep this copy in your possession.” Seaman handed one sheet to Mr. Austin, who put it with his papers in his pocket.
“Thank you very much.”
“Now, we may as well have lunch.” He led the way to the mess hall where a number of officers were assembled, introduced his companions, and the three sat down at one of the small tables. The meal was a lively affair, the men joked back and forth, some of the older ones told stories, and when they had finished, the two grown-ups lighted cigars.
“You do not have such a dull time,” Mr. Austin remarked.
“No, indeed,” Seaman smiled, then he added gravely, “I have a suggestion to make. By air it’s in the neighborhood of three thousand miles to Cuzco from here. Lay to quietly today, get your crate in order, and start tomorrow morning about three o’clock, then make it a non-stop. That will put the kibosh on any plan to get you between here and your destination. It is possible that I’ll get some word by wireless if the dwarf is picked up, but from what you say of your position at the time, the fellow was a bit out of the track of usual travel. However, boats do go roaming about all over the sea, and one might have been on the spot.”
“I thought he might have planned to drop off where someone was waiting for him,” Jim suggested.
“That’s possible. Also, he may have been sure that he could force you to turn back to Jamaica. That would explain the fact that he was not prepared for a fall into the sea. Too bad his backer didn’t take the drop with him. You say you have some reliable friends who are associated with you in this business. I might get a message through to expect you tomorrow afternoon some time if you care to have me.”
“I think it is an excellent plan,” Mr. Austin answered. “How about it, boys?”
“Suits me,” Jim answered.
“I haven’t a single amendment to offer,” Bob added.
“Very well. Then make yourselves at home, get all the rest you can before you start. I’m mighty glad you dropped in on me, and when I write Allen, I shall take pleasure in telling him that I have met The Flying Buddies.”