is ship accordingly--two twin foam-crested waves rolled out from the
pontoons as they sped along until, testing things, Jack found that his
charge was impatient to leave the water and leap upward into space.

Perk looked backward toward the scene of his amazing afternoon
battle--how many times in the future would the picture rise in his
memory to haunt him and bring that quizzical grin to his face.

With the newly risen moon gilding the small waves of the gulf below
them, the picture looked most peaceful. Perk, although not much inclined
to romance, could not but admire the spectacle after his own rude
fashion while Jack fairly drank it in as he continued to pay attention
to his manifold duties.

Their course was almost due north, Jack keeping out a score or more of
miles from the coast, having reasons of his own for so doing--perhaps he
found the wind more favorable out there and this is always an important
factor in the calculations of a pilot of experience. Just as in the
earlier days of ocean steamers when they were also equipped with masts
and sails, the latter were always hoisted when the wind favored, since
this helped them make progress and saved coal at the same time.

They had been booming along for something like half an hour when
watchful Perk, the observer, made a discovery worth while he believed.
He communicated with his companion, the useful earphones chancing to be
in place--trust Perk for that.

"Somethin' doin' out there to the west, partner--look up to a higher
ceilin' an' you'll see it. Headin' to cross over our trail in the
bargain, I guess."

"A crate, all right," commented Jack, whose quick eyesight had
immediately picked up the moving object.

"Looks like it might a come all the way across the gulf--d'ye think from
some Mexican port, Jack?"

"Like as not," assented the other. "These crooks make a start from any
one of a score of jumping-off places, but always with a specified
landing field ahead."

"Then you figger," continued Perk, "he might be one o' the gang,
fetchin' Chinks across or mebbe precious stones, bought in Paris, and
shipped to Mexico on the way to New York, eh, partner?"

"Chances are three to one that's what it means," Jack told him.

Perk continued to wield his important binoculars and presently, when the
lofty plane was passing over, he stated his opinion.

"'Taint _him_, anyway, that's dead sure, Jack, I guess I ought to
know a Lockheed-Vega crate, no matter how