XIXOVER-ZEALOUS PERK
“Perk!”
Strangely enough, while the late sharpshooter had seemed so positive concerning the identity and present status of his victim, he had not displayed the eagerness one might reasonably expect in such a sturdy guardian of the camp, to follow at Jack’s heels.
“Yeah! what is it, old hoss?” he now asked, keeping one eye on the cockpit of the nearby Stinson-Detroiter, under the belief he saw a slight movement there, as though the girl pilot had been suddenly awakened from her sound slumber and was peeping out to ascertain the cause of the late terrific bombardment.
“Come over here and see your monster timber wolf,” Jack was saying.
Perk shrugged his shoulders, as though some dim suspicion of the truth might be already knocking at the door of his valiant heart, but since there was nothing else to be done he stiffened up and walked with soldierly tread to where Jack ominously awaited his coming.
“There he lies, fairly riddled,” the other was saying, pointing as he thus greeted the arrival of the vigilant one. “He never had a chance to even give a single peep after you opened up on him—must have imagined yourself away back again on that Argonne front and sending another Hun ship down wrapped in flames, eh Perk?”
“Huh! he don’t lookquiteas big as I guessed he was,” admitted the now contrite marksman, beginning to weaken. “Mebbe I wasted too many slugs on the onery critter—sorter shot him to pieces you might say.”
Jack laughed and Perk started, under the belief that evidences of feminine amusement drifted out of their cockpit close by as though Suzanne understood, and was not only interested but highly entertained in the bargain.
“That’s a good one partner, for you suredidknock spots out of the poor little yellow sap—chances are he followed some party down here yesterday, got to hunting around on his own hook, and missed them when they started up Angel Trail. Then he discovered the light of your fire here and hoping he’d run upon real friends who’d toss him a scrap of meat, was crawling up to investigate when you blasted him with that fierce volley. Poor confiding little beast, a victim of mistaken identity.”
“Migosh, a prairie dog!” muttered the astonished and mortified Perk, gazing ruefully down at the huddled mess before him, not too plainly seen on account of the fire flashing up only fitfully, being in need of more fuel.
“It’s all right, Perk old man,” soothed Jack, knowing just how mean his chum must be feeling, with that unseen girl a witness to his upset and her low gurgles of laughter coming distinctly to their ears in the bargain, “your intentions were okay, and you certainly did pot him neatly. No danger of any poacher stealing from a camp where you’ve taken up your post as sentry. That vivid dream you mentioned must have got on your nerves and when you discovered a moving figure, naturally enough your first thought was of sneaking four-footed mountain wolves about to make a raid.”
“Hot ziggetty dog! I sure must ’a’ had the jimjams all right,” chuckled Perk, beginning to throw off that stupid feeling of being only half awake and even able to laugh at the joke on himself.
“Jack,” said a merry, girlish voice just then, “tell your friend not to be worried about me. I’ve shot more than a few wolves and coyotes for I was born and brought up in the cow country you see. It’s all right, Perk, don’t feel badly about it. I know it was just to stand up in my defense that made you so speedy on the trigger. Only gave me a little scare until I guessed what it all meant. I’m going to sleep some more, though it’s a hard job to get Buddy’s frightful predicament out of my mind.”
“And Perk,” said Jack, throwing an arm affectionately across the shoulders of his mate, “you turn this job over to me now and get a few winks before morning comes creeping along out of the east over there to start us on our way again. I’ll sit right here, holding your old cannon and woe to the wolf, coyote or even another yellow cur that dares to sneak in on us.”
So after all Perk was not feeling so very badly on account of his fiasco, though it did make him grimace to remember that those bright eyes of Buddy’s best girl had been an amused witness to his humiliation.
He did not say another word, but humbly handed over the sub-machine-gun to his companion and dropped down near the fire upon which he had tossed a fresh supply of fuel. Secretly he was meaning to be up at peep of day before Suzanne would be stirring, in order to drag the victim of his fusilade some distance away from their camp so that her curious eyes might not be offended by sight of the wreck of a little harmless prairie dog.
The balance of that wonderful night, spent alongside the Colorado in the famous canyon of the painted walls, passed without a single thing happening to further disturb them.
In the east, where the mountain peaks made a ragged horizon, the first faint fingers of pink were commencing to streak the low heavens when Jack saw his chum moving off toward the spot where lay the victim of his deadly aim. He instinctively understood what Perk was aiming to do and on that account refrained from calling out or otherwise taking any notice of his being abroad.
When Perk came back ten minutes later and washed his hands down at the river brink, Jack only chuckled, as though it tickled him to notice how the flinty-hearted Perk—only with regard to his indifference toward all female persons—had discovered that there might still be a few—not many, perhaps—girls who were sincere and loyal to the one to whom they had pledged their hearts—lucky Buddy Warner, with all this uncertainty regarding his fate—at the worst there would besome oneto always mourn his passing.
On came the day, and Perk busied himself in getting a good cooking fire going, remembering what a delicious supper the girl had prepared on the preceding evening; and his mouth now fairly watering with hopes of another turn at that royal ambrosia which some people without sentiment will call plain “coffee.”
Suzanne presently joined them, after washing her pretty face down at the running water, which was icy cold, and most refreshing indeed. Then she busied herself at the fire, ordered the meek and obedient Perk around after the manner of most petty and pretty kitchen tyrants; but the fine odors that were soon filling the rarified air buoyed up Perk’s spirits wonderfully and he raised no rebellion.
And the breakfast to which they soon sat down was just as delicious as fancy had pictured; indeed, the only thing amiss so far as the ravenous Perk could discover was the fact that it might give out before all of them had had a sufficiency.
“Now, let’s get busy transferring that gas to our tank, Perk,” Jack observed, as they finally arose. “We’ll have to get our boat up on the shore, you observe—a case of Mahomet going to the mountain—let’s go, partner.”
This was not so difficult as it might seem; for the sandy shore was shelving, and once Jack gave her the gun the amphibian literally “walked up” to where they wanted her to be, alongside the Stinson-Detroiter plane.
Perk produced a length of small rubber tubing, and made use of it as a siphon. Once the gasoline was started, by suction—Perk attended to that part by sucking the air all out, and getting a mouthful of liquid to pay him for his trouble, which he ejected with a grimace—it continued to flow until the tank aboard the amphibian was plumb full.
“I can scare up several five-gallon empty tins,” suggested the wise Perk, “that might be filled, and stowed away somewhere—that would give us a reserve stock, plenty I guess to carry us to the nearest supply base in case our tank went dry.”
“A mighty good idea, boy,” was Jack’s comment, he being glad to see how the other was recovering from his late depression.
They finally had everything settled—Suzanne had put up her little “sign,” to let curious-minded folks wandering that way know who owned the abandoned crate, and that it was to be let absolutely alone until she came to salvage it. Then, too, she had made up her little package of “essentials,” which she meant to take along when they zoomed off to start the real search for lost Buddy Warner.
As they settled down in their places, room having been found for the girl pilot, Suzanne waved her hand a bit sadly toward her impotent crate, as though certain high hopes she had been entertaining were now fallen in ruins; then she smiled again, watching closely to see Jack gripping the stick and letting in the gas to the attendant spark, when they were off.