The Thunder Bird Read online

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  JOHNNY ACTS BOLDLY

  Off to the right and flying high, two government planes circled slowlyover the boundary line. Long before the Thunder Bird had put the mapof Mexico behind her the two planes veered that way, their fishlikefuselages and the finned rudders gleaming like silver in the moonlight.Cliff, happening to glance that way, moved uneasily in his seat andcursed the moon he had so lately blessed.

  "Better duck down somewhere; can't you dodge 'em?" he yelled back atJohnny, who was himself eyeing perturbedly the two swift scouts.

  "You let me handle this. It's what I'm paid for," he yelled back, andbanked the Thunder Bird sharply to the left. He had not yet crossedthe border; until he did so those scouting machines dare not do morethan keep him in view. But keeping him in view was absurdly simple inthat cloudless sky, white-lighted by the moon.

  To a person looking up from the earth, the situation would haveappeared to be simple--a matter of three planes zooming homeward aftera long practice flight. The five-pointed star in the black circle,painted on each wing Of the government planes, would probably have beeninvisible at that height, and the bold lettering of THE THUNDER BIRDindistinguishable also on the shadowed underside of the outlaw plane.To the government planes she was branded irrevocably as they lookeddown upon her from their superior height. There was no mistaking her,no hope whatever that the scouts might think her anything but theoutlaw plane she was, flying in the face of international law,trafficking in treason, fair game if she once crossed the line.

  On she went, boring through the night, heading straight for Tia Juana,which lies just south of the line. Just north of that invisible lineher pursuers held doggedly to the course.

  "Turn back," Cliff turned to shout to Johnny who was driving big-eyed,his lips pursed with the tense purpose that held him to his work."Turn back and land at the rancho. We'll never make Los Angeles withthose damned buzzards after us. I'll have to notify Sch--somebody."

  "Send him a thought message, then."

  "Turn back when I tell you!" Cliff twisted around as far as his safetybelt would permit, that he might glare at Johnny. His tone was thelong of stern authority.

  "Can't be done! The Thunder Bird's took the bit in her teeth. I'mjust riding' and whippin' down both sides!" Johnny laughed aloud,Cliff's tone releasing within him a sudden, reckless mood that gloriedin the sport of the chase and forgot for a moment its grim meaning."Whoo-ee! Go to it, old girl! They gotta go some to put salt on_your_ tail--whoo-ee!"

  "Are you crazy, man? Those are government planes! They're probablyarmed. They'll get us wherever we cross the line--turn back, I tellyou! You're under orders from me, and you'll fly where I tell you!This is no child's play, you fool. If they get me with whatpapers--it'll be a firing squad for you if they catch you--don't forgetthat! Damn you, don't you realize--"

  "Sit down!" roared Johnny. "And shut up!"

  "I won't shut up!" Cliff's eyes, as Johnny saw them facing the moon,looked rather wild. "You're working for me, and I order you to take meback to Schwab's. You better obey--it will go as hard with you as itwill with me if those planes get in their work. Why, you fool, they--"

  "What the heck do I care about them? I'm working for a bigger man thanyou are right now. Sit down!"

  "Stop at Tia Juana then and let me out. But I warn you--"

  "Shut up!"

  "I will not! You'll do as I tell you, or I'll--"

  "Now will you shut up?" Johnny swung his gun, a heavy, forty-fourcaliber Colt, of the type beloved of the West. Its barrel came downfairly on the top of Cliff's leathern helmet and all but cracked hisskull. Cliff shut up suddenly and completely, sliding limply down intohis seat.

  "By gosh, you had it coming!" Johnny muttered as he settled back intohis seat. He had never knocked a man cold before, and his naturalsoft-heartedness needed bracing. He had let Cliff rave as long as hedared, dreading the alternative. But now that it was done he felt acertain relief to have it over. He could turn his mind wholly to theaccomplishment of another feat which would take all his nerve.

  That other thing had looked simple enough in contemplation, but theactual doing of it presented complications. The simplicity of the planvanished with the sighting of those two scouting planes that persistedin paralleling his course and herding him away from the line he fainwould cross.

  Tia Juana with its flat-roofed adobes lay ahead of him now, its lightstwinkling like fallen stars. Away off to the right he could see theblurred lights of San Diego and the phosphorescent gleam of the bay andocean beyond. Beautiful beyond words was the broad view he got, butits beauty could only vaguely impress him then, though he might laterrecall it wistfully.

  He looked toward San Diego with longing; looked at the two planes thathounded him, then gazed straight ahead at the ocean. Perhaps theywould not follow him beyond their station at North Island. They wouldmaybe circle and come back, watching for his return, or they might keepto the shore line, flying north, and thinking to head him off when heturned inland. At least, he reasoned, that is what he would do if hewere following an outlaw plane and saw it head out over the ocean,straight for Honolulu.

  So over Tia Juana he flew and made for the sea like a gull that hasflown too far from its nesting place. He watched and saw the twoplanes spiraling upward, climbing to a higher altitude where it wouldbe easy to dart down at him if he swung north. They suspected thattrick, evidently, and were preparing to swoop and follow.

  The beach, pale yellow in the moonlight, with a riffle of white at itsedge, slid beneath him. The ocean, heaving gently, rolled under, themoon reflected from its depths.

  Cliff sat slumped down in his seat, his head tilted upon one shoulder.He had not moved nor made a sound, and his limp silence began to worryJohnny. What if he had struck too hard, had killed the man? A littletremor went over him, a prickling of the scalp. Killing Cliff had nopart in his plans, would be too horrid a mischance. He wished now thathe had left him alone, had let him bluster and threaten. Perhaps Cliffwould not have had presence of mind enough to do what Johnny had fearedhe would do when he saw capture was inevitable: drop overboard whatpapers he carried that would incriminate him with the United StatesFederal officers. With empty pockets Cliff would be as free ofsuspicion as Johnny himself--a mere passenger in a plane that had flowntoo far south. He would then be fairly safe in assuming that Johnnywould never dare to cross the line with him under the eye of those whowatched from the sky. It had been the fear of that ruse that hadbrought Johnny to the point of violence to Cliff's person, but he wassorry now that he had not risked taking that chance.

  Flying has its inconveniences, after all, for Johnny could not stop toinvestigate the injury he had done to Cliff. He would have to go on,now that he was started, but the thought that he might be flying with adead man chilled what enthusiasm he had felt for the adventure.

  On over the ocean he flew until he had passed the three-mile limitwhich he hazily believed would bar the planes of the government unlessthey had express orders to follow him out. Looking back, he saw thathis hunters seemed content to wheel watchfully along the shore line,and presently he banked around and flew north.

  From the Mexican line to San Diego is not far--a matter of twenty milesor so. Across the mouth of San Diego bay, on the inner shore of whichsits the town, North Island stretches itself like a huge alligatorlying with its back above water; a long, low, sandy expanse ofbarrenness that leaves only a narrow inlet between its westernmost tipand the long rocky finger of Point Loma.

  Time was when North Island was given over to the gulls and long-billedpelicans, and San Diego valued it chiefly as a natural bulkhead thatmade the bay a placid harbor where the great combing rollers could notride. But other birds came; great, roaring, man-made birds, that rosewhirring from its barrenness and startled the gulls until they grewaccustomed to the sight and sound of them. Low houses grew in orderlyrows. More of the giant birds came. Nowadays the people of San D
iego,looking out across the bay, will sometimes look again to make surewhether the sailing object they see is an airplane or only a gull. Intime the gull will flap its wings; the airplane never does. Allthrough the day the air is filled with them--gulls and airplanessharing amicably the island and the air above it.

  Up from the south, with her nose pointed determinedly northward and herrudder set steady as the tail of a frozen fish, the Thunder Bird camehumming defiantly, flying swift under the moon. Over San Diego bay,watching through night-glasses the outlaw bird, the two scouting planesdipped steeply toward their nesting place on North Island. Threeplanes were up with students making practice flights and doingacrobatics by moonlight. These saw one scout go down and land, saw theother circle over the field and climb higher, bearing off toward themainland to see what the outlaw plane would do.

  The Thunder Bird swung on over the island, banked and came back overPoint Loma, heading straight for the heart of the flying station. Shewas past the finlike reef where the pelicans foregather, when thesearchlight brushed its white light over that way, seeking her like agroping finger; found her and transfixed her sternly with its pitilessglare.

  There was no hiding from that piercing gaze, no possibility ofpretending that she was a government plane and flying lawfully there.For straight across her middle, from wing-tip to wing-tip, stillblazoned THE THUNDER BIRD in letters as bold and black as Bland's brushand a quart of carriage paint could make them.

  She volplaned, flattened out a thousand feet or so above the island,circled as the searchlight, losing her when she dipped, sought heragain with wide sweeping gestures of its accusing white finger.

  Blinded by the glare, poor Johnny was banking to find a landing placeamong that assemblage of tents, low-eaved barracks, hangars, shops--thecity built for the purpose of teaching men how to conquer the air.Something spatted close beside him on the edge of the cockpit as hewheeled and left a ragged hole in the leather. Johnny's brainregistered automatically the fact that he was being shot at. Theyprobably meant that as a hint that he was to clear out or come down,one or the other. Well, if they'd take that darned searchlight out ofhis eyes so he could see, he would come down fast enough.

  In desperation he slanted down steeply toward an open space, and theopen space immediately showed a full border of lights, revealing itselfa landing field such as he had read of and dreamed of but had neverbefore seen. It shot up at him swiftly; too swiftly. He came downhard. There was a jolt, a bounce and another jolt that jarred theThunder Bird from nose to tail.

  After a dazed interval much briefer than it seemed, Johnny unstrappedhimself and climbed out unsteadily. He looked fearfully at Cliff, butthere was no sign of life there. Cliff's head had merely tilted fromthe right shoulder to the left shoulder, and rested there.

  Uniformed young men came trotting up from all sides. Two carriedrifles, and their browned faces wore a look of grim eagerness, like menlooking forward to a fight. Johnny pushed up his goggles and staredaround at them.

  "Where's your captain or somebody that's in charge here? I want to seethe foreman of this outfit, and I want to see him quick," he demanded,as the two armed young athletes hustled him between them. "Here, layoff that grabbing stuff! Where do you get that? I ain't figuring onany getaway. I'm merely bringing a man into camp that stacks up like aspy or something like that. Better have a doctor come and take a lookat him; I had to land him on the bean with my six-gun, and he actskinda like he's hurt. He ain't moved since."

  "Well, will you listen to that!" One of the foremost of the unarmedgroup grinned. "This here must be Skyrider Jewel, boys, no mistakeabout that--he's running true to form. 'Nother elopement--only thistime he's went and eloped with a spy, he claims."

  "Here comes the leatherneck. You'll wish you hadn't of lit, Skyrider.You'll be shot at sunrise for this, sure!"

  "You know it! It's a firing squad for yours, allrighty!"

  Johnny gave them a round-eyed, disgusted glare. "They can shoot and bedarned; but the boss has got to see Cliff Lowell and the papers he'sgot on him, if I have to wade through the whole hunch of you! Do youfellows think, for gosh sake, I just flew over here to give you guys atreat? Why, good golly! You--"

  "Here, you come along with me and do your talking to the commandant," agruff voice spoke at his shoulder.

  "And let these gobblers fool around here and maybe lose the stuff thisman's got in his clothes! Oh-h, no! Bring him along, and I'll go.I'd sure like a chance to talk to somebody that can show a few brainson this job. That's what I came over here for. I didn't have to land,recollect."

  The petty officer gave an order or two. The guards fell in besideJohnny with a military preciseness that impressed him to silence. Fromsomewhere near two men trotted up with a field stretcher, and upon itCliff was laid, still unconscious.

  "You sure beaned him right," one of them observed, looking up at Johnnywith some admiration.

  "Yes, and I'd like to bean the whole bunch of you the same way. Youfellows ain't making any hit with me at all," Johnny retorted uncivillyas he left under guard for headquarters.

  A few minutes later he was standing alone before a man whose clean-cut,military bearing, to say nothing of the insignia of rank on hisuniform, awed Johnny to the point of calling him "sir" and of couchinghis replies in his best, most grammatical English. The guards had beencurtly dismissed, for which he was grateful, and he had thesatisfaction of stating his case in private. Johnny did not want thosefellows out there to hear just how easily he had been fooled. Theyseemed to know altogether too much about him as it was.

  The commandant listened attentively to what John Ivan Jewel had to say.John Ivan Jewel had nearly finished his story when he thought ofanother phase of the affair, and one that had begun to worry himconsiderably.

  "I forgot to tell you about the money. I've got a good deal from themsince I started. They paid me on a sliding scale, beginning withfifteen hundred dollars a week and ending with two thousand that Cliffpaid me this evening. I've got it all with me."

  Prom his secret pocket Johnny drew all his wealth, counted off fourhundred dollars and handed the rest to his inquisitor.

  "This four hundred dollars is my own, that I brought from Arizona," heexplained, flushing a little under the keen eyes of Captain Riley."This is honest money; the rest is what they paid me for flying backand forth across the line."

  The commandant turned the big roll of bank notes over, looking at itquizzically.

  "Who is really entitled to this money?" he asked Johnny crisply.

  "Well, I--I don't know, sir. It's what they paid me for flying."

  "And did you fly as agreed upon?"

  "Yes, sir; I made trips back and forth whenever Cliff wanted me to.That is, up to the time I lit out for here, so you could see foryourself what he's up to. He ordered me to go back to Schwab's place,but I wouldn't. I--I knocked him on the head and came on. But untilthen I flew as agreed upon."

  "Do you feel that you earned this money?"

  "Well--taking everything into consideration--yes, sir, I do. I thinknow I worked for them much cheaper than any other aviator would havedone.

  "Yes. Well, you spoke of that four hundred being honest money, thusdifferentiating it from this money. Don't you consider this is honestmoney? What do you mean by honest?"

  Johnny flushed unhappily. "Well, it's kinda hard to explain, but Iguess I meant that I wasn't doing the right thing when I was earningthat money you've got. I meant it wasn't clean money, the way I lookat it now. Because it was crooks I was working for, and I don't knowhow they got it. I worked honestly for it, for them, but the workwasn't honest with the government. It's kinda hard--"

  "I think I'll just give you a receipt for this. How much is it?"

  "There ought to be about seventy-two hundred there, all told, sir."

  Captain Riley looked at him queerly and proceeded to count theastounding wealth of John Ivan Jewel. Then he very matter-of-factlywrote a receipt, whi
ch Johnny accepted with humility, not at all sureof what the captain thought or intended.

  "Now, tell me this. Is this young man---the one you brought in--is hethe only one you know who has been concerned in this--er--business?

  "Yes, sir, on this side he is. Cliff spoke about his boss severaltimes, but he never told me who his boss was. An International NewsSyndicate, he claimed. But I know now that was just a stall. I don'tthink there was any such thing. There's a Mexican, Mateo, down wherewe kept the plane--"

  "Mateo--yes, we have Mateo." Captain Riley sat drumming his fingersgently on the table, studying Johnny with his chin dropped a little sothat he looked up under his eyebrows, which grew long, unruly hairshere and there.

  Johnny's eyes rounded with surprise. He wanted to ask how they hadcome to suspect Mateo when they had seemed so unsuspicious, but he letit go.

  "There's another one, named Schwab, over in Mexico where we alwayswent," he divulged. "He's the one Cliff got those papersfrom--whatever they were. And he's the one that expects to get somemoney in the morning. I heard that much. I--I could get him, too," headded tentatively.

  "Out of Mexico?" Captain Riley stirred slightly in the chair.

  "Yes, sir. I'm pretty sure I could. I was planning to nab him, ifyou'd let me."

  "You mean you could bring him--as you brought this man Lowell?"

  Johnny's lips tightened. "If I had to--yes, sir. I'd knock him on thehead same as I did Cliff. Only I wouldn't hit quite so hard next time."

  Captain Riley bit his lip. "Better hit hard if you hit at all," headvised. "That's a very good rule to remember. It applies to a greatmany things."

  Then he straightened his shoulders a bit and called his orderly, whoagain impressed Johnny with his military preciseness when he stood atattention and saluted. Captain Riley's whole manner seemed to stiffento that military preciseness, though Johnny had thought him stiffenough before.

  "Detain this man," he commanded crisply, "until further orders. If heis hungry, feed him; and see that he has a decent place to sleep. Thepetty officers' quarters will do."

  He watched the perturbed John Ivan Jewel depart under guard, and hiseyes were not half so stern as his tone had been. Then he reached forhis desk 'phone and called up the repair shop.

  "Run that Thunder Bird plane into the shop and repair it to-night," hecommanded. "You will probably need to shift motors, but preserve thepresent appearance of the plane absolutely. It must be ready to fly atsunrise."

  Then, being all alone where he could afford to be just a human being,he grinned to himself, "So-ome boy," he chuckled. "Hope he doesn'tlose any sleep to-night. So-ome boy."