  Jack and Stew had heard Ted’s battle with the jet plane without seeing it. They had become tremendously excited but were unable to do anything about it. Before Ted’s adventure began, Jack was just sitting up, rubbing his eyes sleepily after only three hours of rest. He said: “Life on this island has become impossible. There are five of those beasts against us. They have machine guns and plenty of ammunition. We have automatics with just the slugs that were in their chambers when we arrived.” “There are the natives,” Stew suggested. “Those Germans and Japs would mow them down like grass,” was the quick reply. “It will be better for the natives if they’re never discovered.” “They’ll be discovered all right,” Stew declared. “You can’t hide for long on this island. It’s too small. I’m surprised that those fellows haven’t hunted us down long before this,” he added. “Well, they won’t do that just yet.” Jack drew in a deep breath of relief. “There they go, or at least the Germans must be leaving. If they go we should be able to handle the Japs.” He had caught the low whistle rising into a scream that told of the jet plane’s departure. “If only I could get my hands on that baby!” Jack exclaimed, thinking of the jet plane. “I’d fly her right to the deck of the old Black Bee.” “And get yourself good and shot up by your own pals,” Stew laughed. “There’s no mark of identification on that jet plane.” “That’s right,” Jack admitted. “But she does carry a radio. I’d announce my arrival.” “Well, you haven’t got her yet. You—” Stew stopped suddenly to listen. Jack cocked his head on one side. Back of the high-pitched scream of the departing jet plane they could hear the low roar of an approaching plane of quite another character. “That’s Ted!” Jack exclaimed. “Great Scott! I hope he doesn’t meet that jet plane!” “Be a swell fight. Ted is really good. I’d like to see that fight.” Stew’s eyes shone. “Yes, Ted is good, all right,” Jack admitted. “But something tells me that jet plane is a natural for fighting. It’s got amazing speed. Besides, I’ll bet it’s as easy to handle as a bicycle.” Three minutes later they went racing for the rocky beach. The silence of their island had been torn to bits by the rasping rat—tat—tat of machine-gun fire. Since it came from the sea they guessed that Ted had met the jet plane. “That wasn’t Ted’s gun,” Stew said. “No, it wasn’t.” Jack agreed solemnly. The wind was toward the island. A large cloud hid the battle, but every sound of it came to them. Jack could picture it all in his mind. Ted’s effort to gain the advantage, the terrible speed of his enemy, the flash of fire, the dip of wings, the sudden downward plunges and the upward sweeps in an effort to get on top—all this came to his mind. With lips parted and hearts pounding, Jack and Stew stood there in silence, listening. They knew from the thunder and scream of the planes just what was going on. “It’s as if a pilot in a man-made plane were fighting with one of those prehistoric flying reptiles,” Jack murmured huskily. “Reptiles all right,” was Stew’s comment, “but not prehistoric.” Jack held his breath as he heard Ted make his dash for that smaller cloud. He understood perfectly that Ted was heading for the surface of the sea when he took his final plunge and sensed, with a deep pang of regret, that the end of the fight had come. When once again they heard the short, sharp, rattle of the jet plane’s gun, both Jack and Stew knew that there must still be something left on the water to shoot at—realized, too, what sort of fighter this jet plane fellow was, and at once vowed vengeance. The two boys had stood in silence as the jet plane sailed away. Not a word was said until the screamer’s motor was silenced for a landing on the island. Then Stew muttered, “The dirty coward!” Nothing more was said as they walked slowly back to their camp. So downcast were they that they failed to notice the smell of wood smoke rising from their fireplace. Nor did they see the figure standing by the fire until a voice said, “Good morning.” Startled, they looked up to see the slim girl from the native village. “Your breakfast is served,” she said cheerfully, pointing to a wooden bowl filled with hot fried chicken, a board on which steaming cakes rested, and a big pot of coffee. “Well!” said Jack, smiling in spite of his disappointment and grief. “This really is a fine surprise!” “Japs,” said the girl, picking up the bowl of chicken, “have an unpleasant habit of ambushing people and shooting them in the back. How about a little seclusion?” “Suits me.” Jack picked up the tray of cakes. “It’s been a long time since I had fried chicken for breakfast. Let’s not be interrupted.” Stew followed them with the coffee as they hiked away. In a shady, well-hidden spot among the palms, the girl spread broad palm leaves for a table. “Now,” she laughed. “Make a long arm and help yourselves.” “Where’d you get that expression?” Jack demanded. “I think,” her brown eyes twinkled, “that it was in Kentucky.” “Kentucky?” Jack exclaimed. “Then you—” “Sure!” she laughed. “You’re getting warm now.” She pulled wads of palm fiber from her nostrils and from under her lips. They had been put there to make her nostrils seem wider and thicker. Then she drew a small bottle from a pocket in her native belt to rub the brown from the backs of her hands. “So you’re an American!” Stew exclaimed. “Just plain Mary Brown from the U. S. A.,” she said proudly. “Great Scott!” Stew exclaimed. “How’d you get here, anyway, and what’s the meaning of the disguise?” “It’s a long story.” She hesitated. “I’d tell it to you now, but first, you tell me if you can, what that shooting was about out there on the water?” “That,” Jack’s face grew tense, “that was a friend of ours named Ted who tried to rescue us.” “And he was shot down by the Germans in the jet plane?” Mary Brown asked. “That’s what we think,” Jack replied soberly. “Why don’t you try to rescue him?” she asked. “Probably he’s past rescuing. Those fiends shot him up while he was on the water.” Jack’s words came slowly. “Besides, we have no boat, no plane, nothing.” “You forget the native canoes,” she said. “Say! That’s right!” Jack exclaimed. “Would the natives help us?” “They’ll do anything I say. Besides, it will be a good thing to put them to work just now.” “Why?” Jack asked in surprise. “I’m trying to keep them from knowing there are Japs on the island,” said Mary. “They hate the Japs worse than snakes. Not long ago a Jap torpedo boat came across a big canoe loaded with these natives and killed every one of them, for no reason at all.” “Come on! Hurry!” Stew exclaimed, swallowing half a cup of black coffee. “Let’s get out there and have a look for Ted. He’s the best pal we ever had, and if those fiends got him—” He did not finish, but the others understood. By the time they had rounded up three stout canoes manned by husky natives and made their way around the end of the island, the large morning clouds had dropped to water level and become rain squalls. “This is terrible!” Jack groaned. “We’ll never find him now.” “You don’t know these natives.” Mary Brown settled back in the stern. “They can find any living thing on the sea.” “It will be keen if they find Ted and his plane in this rain,” said Stew. “That way, if his plane is still afloat, we can tow it ashore and hide it in some cove without being seen by the Japs or the Germans. And then! Boy! If that plane can be made to fly we’ll leave your little old island, Mary Brown, and we’ll take you along!” “That sounds wonderful to me,” she laughed. “I’ll become the mascot of your carrier, or maybe its jinx.” “I’m leaving the island in that jet plane.” Jack did not laugh. “How will you manage it?” Mary asked soberly. “Don’t know yet,” Jack admitted. “But you wait! We’ll manage it some way. It just has to be done!” In a surprisingly short time Mary had her natives in their canoes around the end of the island and ready to undertake the search. |
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