came up the coast loaded to the gun'ls with case goods, an' crept in
with small boats to make a big haul! Listen to 'em squabble, will you,
boy? What wouldn't I give for daylight so's to see that boss
shindy--shootin' keeps a'goin' on like the old days over there--wow!
They must be a bunch o' rotten marksmen, or the whole lot'd be wiped out
afore this time. What're we a'goin' to do 'bout it, Jack--we ought to
have some say what's to be done with all that stuff--no use bein' eagles
o' the skies if we gotter stick around an' let a measly set o' hawks get
away with the game."

"Don't worry, that's what we're _not_ aiming to do!" snapped Jack,
as he banked, and once again headed in the direction of the spot where
all that wild commotion was taking place.

"I get you, boy--the machine-gun, is it?" barked Perk, starting up from
his seat as though to make ready.

Before he could throw off his head-harness Jack stopped him.

"Wait--you got me wrong--let the gun lie where it is. You know we never
expect to use it unless our lives are in danger. Get the bombs,
Perk--the simple tear bombs--they ought to fill the bill!"

Perk evidently not only understood now but was fully in sympathy with
the scheme Jack had hatched out under the spur of necessity--quick
thinking was one of young Ralston's strong points and his cleverness
along those lines had served him wonderfully on more than a few previous
occasions, where the situation looked desperate.

They were sliding down a steep glide with the engine shut off. The deck
of the nearby schooner was plainly visible due to the lights aboard, and
the successive discharges of firearms, each looked like a miniature
flash of lightning. As they approached the scene of confusion the racket
grew in volume,--a dozen men seemed to be whooping things up as though
under the impression that the battle could be won by sheer noise--and
broken heads.

Perk kept his wits, and managed to locate the small stock of tear bombs
that had been given into their charge, with the idea they might find
them more or less useful should they strike a superior force of reckless
law breakers and get into what Perk would call a "jam."

Already he had succeeded in clutching a couple of the round missiles
that were charged with the acrid gas that could play such havoc with
human eyes as to render the strongest men as weak as babes and settled
down in a position where he could throw them to advantage.

CHAPTER V