XXICOMBING THE MOUNTAIN-TOPS
Jack admitted to feeling a trifle disappointed when his talk with Suzanne afforded no signs of a clue upon which to build a structure; although truth to tell he realized how almost absurd that hope had been.
Surely Buddy’s disappearance could hardly hinge upon anything that had ever taken place in his old home town—such a cheery, companionable lad could not have any enemies—Suzanne had not hinted at such a thing as a jealous rival in the field, who might give way to wicked thoughts.
No, the whole occurrence must be what everybody believed—a sheer accident, such as was liable to happen to any air pilot braving the elements day and night in the pursuit of his regular vocation. He had gone down, so now the only trouble was to locate the scene of his mishap and, as Perk at another time had been heard to say “pick up the pieces,” meaning no offense by such a remark.
“If you don’t mind,” the girl was saying shortly afterwards, “I’d like very much to be allowed to use your glasses. I possess good vision, and perhaps the great stake I have in this search might make me argus-eyed indeed.”
“Certainly you may make use of them,” Jack told her, reaching out to secure the binoculars, showing her how to work them to meet with the best results. “If you do happen to see something that excites your interest, just call our attention to it—sometimes two pair of eyes are better than one, you know, Miss Cramer.”
So she sat there, staring down as they moved swiftly through the realms of space; but not too swiftly. She seemed to be trying to cover all the ground possible, ever and anon lifting her gaze to sweep a look at more distant objects.
Again and again she would stop in her movements as if to concentrate her scrutiny upon one particular spot; Jack, watching with sympathy filling his heart, could imagine how the poor girl must be suffering even though failing to show it. He would feel a spasm of eagerness on each occasion of special scrutiny only to lose it again as she continued her search of the grim countryside that was so bleak and so unpromising.
Meantime Jack was keeping one eye on the lower heavens, with the expectation of sooner or later discovering some far distant moving object, that he would know must be some other air craft, doubtless engaged in the same mission of humanity and mercy that employed all their own efforts.
It turned out that he had not held these expectations in vain, for along about the middle of the morning such a tiny blur was discovered far away, which grew somewhat larger as the minutes passed.
Upon calling the girl’s attention to the moving object that to the unaided eye might just as well have been set down as a wheeling buzzard, she quickly pronounced it to be a plane, sweeping at a low altitude above the rocky mountain peaks, as though those aboard were scrutinizing the depths and heights that lay underneath, just as she had been doing.
She cast frequent eager glances in that direction, while not allowing her interest in the wild terrain over which they continued to pass, to slacken. Jack could detect a certain wistfulness in the way she watched, just as though she might be wishing them all the favors of Heaven in meeting with success.
The ship swung around, and went off in another direction, as though the pilot might be following out certain ideas of his own. While it was yet in plain sight, though growing fainter in the lower haze, she uttered a low cry, and said excitedly:
“Oh! look Jack, look over in the north—another ship, and a cabin biplane at that. Do you think they are working on the same lines as the rest of us?”
Jack reached out a hand for the binoculars, and took a good survey; after which he announced that everything seemed to point that way.
“They’re keeping low down, also moving quite slowly; and if on a regular flight they would be doing neither of those things, you understand. Yes, and I have no doubt that within a hundred-and-fifty miles of this spot in every direction there are twenty—thirty such ships, large and small, with each pilot doing everything in his power to be the lucky one to find your Buddy.”
She continued to observe the two planes as if lost in serious thought, to finally say with a little catch in her voice, for she still had the earphone harness attached to her head:
“I wish them every success possible; for it does not matter who the lucky pilot is, every one of them will be remembered as long as I live. The only thing that counts is to findhim—alive!”
As if to emphasize the yearning that was in her heart the girl stretched out both hands toward the two distant ships; and there was something so pathetic in the mute action that neither of the other would ever forget.
Then, as though just as sanguine as ever she accepted the glasses from Jack to continue scanning the ground they were passing over, hoping to sooner or later meet with a glorious success.
Jack himself was far from feeling the same enthusiasm—doubtless it was because of his superior knowledge of the vast difficulties staring them rudely in the face; then again he did not have that true love for Buddy buoying him up, as was the case with Suzanne.
Perk was thinking that since noon had rolled around it might be just as well that they munched a trifle of food, so as to conserve their strength, with a long task ahead of them, when once again the girl uttered a cry. Perk not being equipped just then with ear-phones could not catch what she was saying so excitedly; but at least he was able to surmise its tenor—she had undoubtedly made some sort of discovery, for her face was marked by animation, and she kept pointing down toward some part of the rocky country, trying to direct Jack’s attention to it.
Perk saw his chum take the binoculars and follow up the particular line in which Suzanne was pointing. Long and earnestly did he stare, with her eager eyes glued on his face. Then Jack sadly shook his head, as if deciding in the negative.
Whatever it was she had seen to thus arouse false hopes his good sense told him it was not worthy of their further investigation. This naturally caused her to be bitterly disappointed, although she managed to bear up bravely, and even smiled whimsically—pitifully Perk called it, for he was deeply interested in the wild search, and hoping with all his heart it might turn out successful, though his good sense and training told him only a near miracle could accomplish this.
None of them seemed to have much appetite save Perk, and that always hungry individual was never known to refuse an opportunity to treat his clamoring “tummy” to an extra meal—Suzanne hardly touched a morsel and when Jack tried to persuade her that she owed it to herself to eat, she shook her head and told him it would choke her if she did.
Then once more was the everlasting vigil resumed—indeed, while the others munched a snack the girl had kept the glasses almost constantly employed, as though under the conviction that if any slackening of her observation came about that might prove to be the undoing of the whole scheme—a chain is only as strong as its weakest link; and ten minutes relaxation in the way of covering the ground they were passing over might be fatal to their success.
Again about the middle of the afternoon she once more believed she saw something calling for a closer scrutiny. This time she was not so excited as on the previous occasion, possibly taking warning; but she pressed the binoculars on Jack—Perk still handling the controls—and directed his attention to what she believed was a smudge of smoke arising from amidst the side of a steep mountain where the rocks were piled up as though giants had been playing ten pins.
Once more did Jack bend all his energies to figuring out what the smoke could mean; he disliked telling her it did not offer any real hope, for he could see that it was the end of a forest fire, such as may have been tailing up the long ravine for many days, and feeding on all manner of trash falling from the scraggy pinon trees that managed to cling to the otherwise bare walls.
The poor forlorn girl broke down and cried bitterly when once more her hopes were dashed to the ground. Perk shook his head, and gritted his teeth, for it greatly disturbed him to hear her weeping; Jack tried to comfort her as best he could, in a man’s clumsy way. Soon the fit wore away, and Suzanne was her own brave little self again, the look of sublime confidence once more coming into her face. And so the weary hunt went on as the sun slanted down the western heavens, with a cruel night ahead of the searchers.