AN INVASION OF THE CAMP
“Rob,” remarked Andy, later on, “why would those plotters choose Maine
as the field for their dastardly attempts to strike at the Canadian
Government? I should think they would have a bigger chance for
succeeding in their undertaking, say away up in the Northwest, where the
border isn’t watched as closely as along here.”
“That’s easy to answer,” replied the scout master. “In the first place
you must remember that as all these supplies gathered through the Great
Northwest granary approach the coast, where they are to be shipped
abroad, they concentrate. It’s like the spokes of a wheel, and this
eastern stretch of country can be likened to the hub. Get that, Andy?”
“I certainly do, Rob. This applies, I suppose, to some extent with
regard to the soldiers, and the munitions, and all that; they are
gathered here and there, and as the many rivulets draw closer to the
coast the stream grows larger all the while. Sure, that stands to
reason, and I was silly not to think of it myself.”
“Another thing that counts heavily,” added Rob sagely, “is the fact that
out in the Northwest that you mention the transcontinental railroad
doesn’t come anywhere as near the border as it does close to the Maine
line. So, you see, an expedition crossing over here would have only a
short distance to go before they reached the tracks they meant to
destroy.”
“Yes,” said Tubby, who had been listening eagerly, “and perhaps there’s
a bridge here that, if blown up, would about paralyze the stream of
material that’s flowing steadily down toward the coast day after day. I
reckon it’s to stop that tide of munitions and supplies, as much as the
soldiers themselves, that these fellows are scheming to do.”
“There’s another far-off whistle of a train,” said Andy, perking his
head up in a listening attitude. “They certainly come along quite
frequently, and that goes to tell what a big business is being done by
the railroad these days. I understand thousands of horses are being
shipped from the ranches up on those big prairies of the Canadian
Northwest, for they last only a short time in war, and the supply is
beginning to fall short. Already I’ve read how the rival armies are
making great powerful tractor engines take the place of animals in
dragging heavy guns to the front.”
“Supposing that air pilot did succeed in getting all the information
needed,” Tubby went on to say, “as well as some pretty smart pictures of
the ground around the bridge, how soon would those plotters start to
work, do you reckon, Rob? Surely not this very night?”
“Well, hardly, Tubby,” came the reassuring answer, “though we can’t say
what need of haste there might be. If the aviator did snap off some
pictures, the film would have to be developed, and prints made, which
takes time. No, at the earliest I should say to-morrow night would be
picked out for the attempt.”
“Oh, well, the guards are on duty, and are looking out for anything of
that kind,” said Andy carelessly. “The visit from that aeroplane will
put them on their mettle.”
“Unless,” Rob ventured thoughtfully, “they considered that the pilot was
merely some venturesome American who had taken chances in crossing the
boundary air, and found himself over Canada. It might be their shots
were only sent to warn him he had better clear out, and to mind his own
business.”
“Whee! In that case they might be caught napping,” said Tubby, with a
vein of anxiety in his voice. “Rob, would it be any business of ours to
warn the Canadians guarding the trestle or bridge, if we had the
chance?”
“It would be our patriotic _duty_, if we really knew that mischief was
brooding,” the scout master told him sternly. “Stop and think for a
minute, and you’ll see it in that way too. First of all, as true scouts,
we would have to consider that these men, no matter how much they loved
the land of their birth across the sea, are either citizens of the
United States, or even if Germans, are enjoying the hospitality of Uncle
Sam. To creep across the line so as to strike at their foe would be to
abuse that hospitality. Yes, it would be the duty of any honest,
patriotic American citizen to give warning, if he absolutely knew that
such a scheme was afoot.”
“Do you mean to carry the news to some town in Maine, from where it
could be wired to Washington, so that soldiers might be sent up here to
frustrate the evil designs of these schemers?” asked Tubby, who at times
delighted in framing his questions in exceedingly weighty language.
Rob Blake reflectively rubbed his chin as he considered this query.
“I’m afraid that would consume far too much time, Tubby,” he finally
replied. “Before those troops could be rushed here from the nearest army
post the mischief, such as it was, would have been carried through. No;
if I learned positively that those German sympathizers meant to invade
Canada, something the same way as the Fenians did a long time ago, I’d
consider it my bounden duty to cross the line myself and try and warn
the guards at the bridge.”
“That’s the ticket, Rob!” cried the delighted Andy, who himself believed
in “hitting the nail on the head.” Tubby, a bit slower to grasp
possibilities, bent closer, the better to hear what was said.
Much more was spoken of along these lines, but the reader has already
learned what the boys, as young American patriots, were bent on doing
should the occasion arise, and hence it is not necessary to repeat all
that passed between them.
Of course they also talked of other things, returning to this
fascinating theme from time to time. Often Tubby stared in the direction
of the North Star, in company with the Great Bear or Dipper
constellation; and at these times his round, rosy face registered an
expression of awe. Tubby might have been gifted with a sense of second
sight, and dimly may have seen possible complications they were fated
soon to meet.
As the evening grew, all of them felt an inclination to turn in. They
had covered many miles, and not over level ground, since the morning,
and with those heavy packs on their backs it had proved to be quite a
tiresome journey.
Tubby, in particular, was yawning terrifically, nor did he take the
trouble to put his hand over his extended jaws. Often Andy would pretend
to shudder, and warn him to be more careful, or both of his chums would
fall into the huge opening.
Tubby would make no reply; he was too sleepy to enter into any argument.
He may have had an object in his repeated yawning, knowing how
contagious it is, and that presently he was bound to start both the
others along similar lines.
Presently Rob was seen to copy his example. Andy followed suit.
“Guess we might as well turn in,” said the latter, with a grin, as he
caught the eye of Tubby on him. “Tubby here will surely fall to pieces
unless he gets some sleep.”
“Huh!” grunted Tubby scornfully. “Now that you’ve begun, too, Andy, and
Rob gives like signs, we’ll be making it unanimous. What about the fire,
though? Do we let that cheery blaze die out during the night?”
“No need of that,” said Rob immediately. “It promises to be pretty
chilly, and our blankets aren’t any too thick at that; so I plan to get
up once in a while and throw an armful of wood on the fire. If I don’t
oversleep I think I can keep the thing going up to morning. Andy, if you
chance to wake up any time, and find that the fire has got down to red
ashes, you might crawl out and take a turn. Plenty of fuel handy, you
know.”
“I’ll try and remember, Rob,” promised the other, “though I must say I
do sleep as sound as a top. If you depended on me to attend to the fire
the chances are it would expire long before dawn. But I may wake up once
or twice, and I’ll do my duty, Rob, only too gladly. Pile in, Tubby.
Your blanket is over there on the left of the entrance, and we’d have a
nice time of it letting _you_ crawl over us.”
Rob did not follow immediately, for he was busying himself at the fire.
They were careful to take their belongings into the brush shanty with
them, except certain things that could just as well hang high from a
limb of the tree. There was no sign of rain or snow, so that they did
not worry on that score.
Finally Rob came crawling inside the shelter. He fancied that one or
both of his chums might already have dropped asleep, and did not mean to
do anything to disturb them. Yes, he could hear Tubby’s heavy breathing,
which announced that the stout boy had drifted across the border of
slumberland and was perhaps already dreaming of Hampton folks, or some
past scenes in his ambitious career as a scout.
“He’s off, Rob,” Andy remarked in a low voice. “Gee! but Tubby can go to
sleep the easiest of any one I ever knew. Honest, now, I believe he
could take a nap while walking along, if only some fellows kept him from
tumbling over. All he has to do is to shut his eyes, take half a dozen
long breaths, and then he’s clear gone.”
“Well, don’t talk any more now, Andy. We’ll both try to imitate his
sensible example,” cautioned the other, as he started to creep under his
blanket, having removed his shoes and coat beforehand, although he
wisely kept them handy in case a sudden necessity should arise.
So the time passed. Rob did wake up some hours afterward, and creeping
out replenished the fire. As he did so he took note of the fact that
once again there faintly came to his ears the long-drawn whistle of an
engine; and he fancied that it meant to notify those who guarded the
bridge of the approach of a fresh train loaded with valuable army
stores, or troops bound for the war trenches over in Northern France.
Again Rob snuggled down under his blanket, feeling grateful for the
comforts that a generous fortune had supplied him with. He was not long
in going to sleep.
Happily no one was nervous in that camp. He, too, soon lost
consciousness, and possibly slept for several hours, for when next he
awoke the fire had once more died down to red embers.
This time, however, the awakening was along entirely different lines. It
was caused by the whole end of their brush shanty falling down with a
crash, as though some heavy object had been hurled against it. At the
same time the startled trio of scouts, sitting hastily up amidst the
wreckage of their late shelter, saw some huge lumbering object scatter
the glowing embers of the smouldering fire in every direction as it
dashed madly through the camp.
Tubby was stricken dumb with amazement. Possibly he had been indulging
in some extravagant dream in which the giant Jabberwock that sported
through “Alice in Wonderland” was creating great excitement. He stared
at the vanishing bulky animal as though he could hardly believe his
eyes. Andy apparently had not lost control of his vocal organs, to judge
by the shout he let out.