XXIVONE CHANCE IN A THOUSAND
The little hotel to which they were taken by the kind owner of the five-passenger car proved to be all they could wish for. It looked scrupulously clean and the rooms to which they were shown seemed to give promise of a comfortable night’s sleep, though Jack doubted whether the excited girl would obtain the rest she needed so much.
He promised to knock on her door at daybreak so that they might secure the early breakfast he had ordered and be off to the flying field to make a start.
He and Perk had a double room with twin beds and were not long in turning in, both of them being more or less tired after a gruelling day aloft. Jack had no idea they would be disturbed during the night, for they were utter strangers in the town and such things as robberies were absolutely unknown, or so the hotel proprietor had assured him in answer to an incidental question.
He was up at the first peep of dawn and had Perk on his feet without any unusual racket. Later on Jack kept his promise about tapping on the door of Suzanne’s room and was a bit surprised when she opened it, disclosing the fact that she was fully dressed as though she had been up for some time, which indeed was a fact.
He would never forget the yearning look she gave him when, seated at the table, they started their simple breakfast. It was as though her heart were in her throat, choking her and Jack, realizing the girl must be close to the breaking point, quickly started talking of outside matters and even cracked a little joke to try and divert her mind from the subject that had gripped her day and night for so long.
About the time they settled their account and were ready to start for the field, a car stopped at the door and their accommodating friend of the night before, Mr. Caleb Cushman, accompanied by his wife, appeared. They came early to have the pleasure of taking them to where they meant to start off again—perhaps his good wife also wished to meet the brave girl who was the now famous Buddy Warner’s sweetheart. Apparently they both knew about this important fact, showing that Mr. Cushman must have been in touch with Bart Hicks by telephone since last they saw the latter, and learned this thrilling circumstance that might put their little town on the map, with all the big newspapers of the country blazing inch high scareheads on their front pages when covering the latest sensation along aviation lines.
Although Jack would not admit that he felt the least uneasiness concerning the safety of the amphibian, nevertheless he gave a sigh of relief when after looking the ship over he found everything in shipshape condition.
“Get that gas aboard as quick as you can, Perk,” he told his comrade for he had contracted to have the tank filled to full capacity while the chance held good, and besides he wished to have a little further conversation with affable Bart Hicks, with the hope of picking up a few crumbs of information in regard to the terrain they meant to cover on this most important day.
Accordingly he drew the ground superintendent aside and plied him with a variety of questions, all of which the accommodating test pilot answered to the best of his ability.
Jack had him describe the general character of the ground and just as he anticipated, learned that it was actually the roughest section in all the region.
“Rocks—deep gullies that seem to have no bottom—peaks with slithering points that look like the savage steel tips of spearheads—the worst territory for a poor devil of an air pilot to crash in or have to make a forced landing that you could run across in a hundred square miles. I’d say there wasn’t over one chance in a thousand that the lad could get to the ground alive and even granted that he did, wounded as he must be, he never in the wide world would be able to find his way out of that hole. I’m sorry to have to say that, Mr. Ralston, but it’s the truth.”
Jack may have winced, but just the same he showed not the slightest sign of being yellow.
“Tell me about that thousandth chance, brother,” he observed, at which the other looked him keenly in the face, shrugged his shoulders and went on to say:
“Guess you’re clear grit all right, son. The best pilots are built that way. Look at our Lindy now, and you’ll find he never flinches, no matter what happens but always does the one right thing as if by instinct. Fact is, when I mentioned that there might be a tiny loophole for a poor devil who had to go down in that god-forsaken stretch of wilderness, I must have been thinking of that strange old hermit who has a secret hideout somewhere in that country. There’s a beautiful little clear water lake surrounded by peaks and heavy woods that no white man’s ever fished in or set eyes on at close quarters, ’cept maybe that queer old chap.”
“Please tell me all you know about him,” pursued Jack eagerly, just as if he was trying to clutch some minute shred of hope that was difficult to capture.
Bart Hicks laughed shortly.
“I can tell you all that in a jiffy Mr. Ralston,” he hastened to reply, “because none of us happen to know anything at all about who and what the old party is. About twice a year, spring and fall, he bobs up here with a sure footed mule and buys all sorts of grub and stores. He never stays overnight and seems to hate the sight of a real house. Some curious minded folks, thinking that perhaps he had struck a rich mine there in that rockhouse district, have tried to follow him but had to give it up and come back beaten. He doesn’t fetch free gold out with him but plain, everyday Government yellow-back bills. We don’t know a thing about the secret trail he takes to make his way through all that riotous land.
“I’ve heard pilots tell how they’d seen spirals of wood smoke rising and those who happened to be flying low say they could see his campfire was close to the brim of that crater lake—for some say it lies in the crater of an extinct volcano. That’s about the whole story as far as any of us know it, Mr. Ralston and I’m winding up by saying again it would be just one lone chance in a thousand that a poor air pilot dropping down there would be found and rescued by that mysterious old hermit.”
“As you say, it’s a desperately small opening and not very promising at best,” Jack told his new friend with the same resolute look on his face, “but it may be we’ll have to place our hopes on such a slender chance after all. At any rate I’m meaning to look into that matter before giving up the game as impossible. It wouldn’t be the first time such a mere thread turned into a stout cable that’s saved the ship from destruction.”
“Never say die, eh? I’d think that’d be your motto, Mr. Ralston,” observed the field superintendent who apparently had come to have more or less admiration for the young air pilot who carried himself so buoyantly, so confidently, as though he absolutely believed in himself.
By now Perk had finished his job of refueling the plane and was rubbing his soiled hands with a bit of waste.
“All fixed, are we brother?” asked Jack and for almost the first time on record, those close by learned that Perk was not at all dumb, but had a fluent voice of his own.
“Wall,” he drawled with a wicked wink toward Jack, “guess now she’s loaded to capacity an’ then some ’cause I’ve got six gallon cans o’ juice stowed away where they ain’t goin’ to take up much room, an’ll keep us on the wing a bit extra. Then too, partner, here’s a waiter comin’ from our hotel joint carryin’ a package o’ eats in the shape o’ sandwiches which I took the trouble to order an’ which you’ll have the pleasure o’ payin’ a hull dollar for right on the spot.”
“Good for you, Perk!” laughed Jack, who seldom had to worry about a sufficiency of food when traveling in the company of such an excellent provider as Gabe Perkiser who never had any difficulty in hearing the “call of the eats” so many times per diem.
Apparently they were all ready to make the jump-off, the amphibian having been taxied to the head of the runway where a simple slant would help give her “gangway,” as Perk often called it.
Just then Bart Hicks came up and shoved a bit of paper into the pocket of Jack’s leather flying coat.
“Just take a squint at that when you find time, brother,” he remarked and held out his hand for a parting grip. “Shake hands, Jack, and here’s wishing you all the luck going in your present job as well as in all others they put on your shoulders—you too, Perk old hoss.”
There was something a bit mysterious about the way Bart Hicks said that, and Perk had it on the tip of his tongue to demand an explanation but since the pilot just then drew back the stick and the motor commenced to roar as the amphibian started down the slant, he had to take it out in a goodbye wave of his hand and let it go at that.
They rose like a bird long before the termination of the runway had been reached for those sloping wing-tips were fashioned so as to make it easy to take off successfully in one-third the distance formerly deemed necessary for a ship with a powerful enough set of motors to lift a heavy weight and get away with it.
Looking back, Suzanne could see the little bunch that had seen their takeoff, including some mechanics and field hands as well as Bart Hicks, Mr. Cushman and his wife. They were all waving their hands wildly and possibly giving tongue in the bargain, although the noise prevented her from making sure of this. She answered their salutes with her little pocket handkerchief and then wiped her eyes as though the long repressed tears just would break through her guard, and run down her pretty cheeks.
They were now fully launched on another day’s weary though eager search, with no one being qualified to prophesy what the outcome of the new flight would be. Jack had mapped out in his mind the country over which he meant to fly with little save his own conception to assist him.
One thing was sure, when they had covered a stretch of several miles in a straight run, it could be set down as certain nothing had missed their close attention and that there would be no necessity for returning over the same ground again. This was a fight to a finish and a clean-up as they went along, so Jack kept hugging that tiny hope to his heart and wondered what the eventual outcome of the adventure would prove to be. As yet it was a toss-up, as far as he could see.