THE STONE CAIRN ON THE BORDER
“Naw, naw, ye’re baith wrang!” hastily exclaimed Donald, as soon as he
could “get a word in edgewise.”
“But that certainly was a train we heard,” affirmed Andy stoutly,
adding: “There goes a whistle! Don’t you hear it, Donald?”
“Oh, ay, but ye ken it was not my fayther’s hand at the throttle of the
engine. That train is the regular passenger goin’ west. It is much too
airly for the freight carrying munitions and stores, and bound east.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you say so,” Andy was quick to admit.
“I can breathe easy again,” muttered Tubby, who had received quite a
severe shock.
The sound of the train grew louder. They could even tell when it struck
out on the trestle that served as an approach for the long and costly
bridge. Naturally it thrilled them to remember that the unworthy plot of
those who would strike a cowardly blow at the enemy of their native
country by abusing the neutrality of the land that gave them friendly
shelter—and protected them in the bargain—that this plan was laid to
destroy that splendid piece of mechanical engineering, and, perhaps,
engulf many human beings in the wreckage.
“Everything seems to be right—so far,” observed Andy, as they once again
started to hurry along the dimly seen trail.
“We ought to be in time,” Donald told them over his shoulder, “accordin’
to what I heard them say. It’s hopin’ and prayin’ I am that I can hold
out to the end. If the worst does come, why here’s a braw chap who could
tak ye to the bridge. A’ ye hae to do is to tell them that Donald, the
engineer’s lad, sent ye with the warnin’. They’ll know what to do the
nicht. But I’ll manage somehow to get there, by hook or by crook.”
“You certainly will, if being game counts for anything, Donald, old
fellow,” Andy assured him. “I never ran across a scout with more grit
than you’re showing right now. Why, nearly any boy, with such a badly
bruised leg, would be glad to let some one else do the running for him,
satisfied to get the glory himself.”
“But do ye not understand, I could nae do anything less, because it is
my ain fayther whose life is in danger?” the other said, apparently
thinking that he was doing nothing so very wonderful—nothing more than
any boy ought to do for the parent he loved.
The train was going away from them now, and by degrees they heard the
sound of its passage less distinctly, until presently the rumble became
very faint indeed, and then died away completely, though the falling of
the night wind may have had considerable to do with this.
Rob, being a scout who always paid attention to even the smallest
details, when on duty or off, for it had become second-nature with him,
noticed that they were just about exactly opposite the place where, from
the deep rumble, it seemed the western trestle and approach must lie.
This he also knew was the end of the bridge they were heading for, since
to reach the other terminus it would first of all be necessary to cross
the river, which they were not prepared to do.
Besides, it was absolutely certain that the conspirators would also
approach the object they planned to destroy from this side; and
consequently Rob meant to extinguish the lantern, once he learned they
were across the line.
“I can see something queer, like a pile of stones, ahead there,”
announced Andy, who had particularly keen eyesight, and chanced to be
looking forward at the time, instead of minding his steps.
“It is the cairn that marks the boundary,” said the Canadian boy simply.
A minute later and they had approached so close that all of them could
easily see the object, which turned out to be a heaped-up pile of rocks,
and on top was a broad stone slab, with some markings on it. Looking
closer at the “monument” the boys read the words: “Boundary Line,” and
underneath this “United States.” On the other side they discovered the
word “Canada” below the same descriptive text.
“Well,” said Tubby, as they paused for a minute before crossing over,
“just to think that I can sit here on this rock-pile, with one foot over
in a foreign country and the other in our own home land. It seems
queer!”
“Huh!” grunted Andy, always ready for a sly fling at good-natured Tubby,
“take care then that you don’t have to sit on a stone-pile day after
day, and wearing a striped suit. Please don’t get the habit, Tubby.”
“I won’t, I promise you,” retorted the other, “for it might be catching,
like the measles, and you’d be a fit subject for contagion, Andy.”
“Start on, Donald,” said Rob, as he deliberately blew out the lantern,
which he proceeded to carefully deposit at the base of the little
pyramid of rocks, where they could get it again when on their way back
to camp.
Evidently Rob did not believe there would be any further necessity for
carrying a lantern. Besides, it was more or less of an encumbrance,
since he had his rifle to handle in the bargain.
Tubby did not wholly like this. It would probably mean more frequent
stumbles for him, and also knocks and scratches; but he did not
remonstrate, knowing well that Rob was the best judge of what was right
and proper.
So they all crossed the border, and found themselves treading the soil
of Canada, for the first time in the lives of the three Boy Scouts of
Hampton Troop.
“Why, it doesn’t seem one whit different,” said Tubby, in evident
surprise, “and only for that sign on the slab of rock I’d never dream
that I’d stepped over from Uncle Sam’s world, and was treading foreign
soil.”
Andy was heard to snort as though highly amused, but he resisted the
temptation to take a fling at the “unsophisticated farmer,” as he
sometimes called simple-minded Tubby. As though there would be any
perceptible difference in the soil and trees and rocks, because an
imaginary line divided the continent between two entirely different
nations!
Tubby sometimes knew better than he made out, and perhaps Andy was wise
not to pursue the subject any further; he had been “stung” before, when
attempting to take advantage of a “break” on the part of amiable Tubby.
“After this,” Rob was telling them, “be careful not to talk so loud. We
don’t know which trail those men may take in passing across the border;
but if they heard us speaking they would become suspicious at once. You
must know that the very desperate character of their work would make
them think everybody’s hand was raised against them; and the chances are
they’d feel inclined to pounce on us, and at least make us prisoners.”
“Oh, that must never be!” said Donald, with deep feeling. “If they kept
us fra warnin’ the bridge guards, ye ken, the whole thing wud be in the
soup.”
After that they all fell silent, and the forward progress was carried
out as so many ghostly specters in a country churchyard might stalk
about at the hour of twelve, if, indeed, such visitors from the other
world ever do visit this one.
For one thing the path actually seemed to be growing easier now, Tubby
thought. At least he did not meet with so many obstacles to his
progress, and could thank his lucky stars on this account. He really
believed every square inch of his stout limbs below his knees must by
now show signs of having come in rough contact with stumps, logs, rocks
and all other manner of things. Indeed, Tubby had already made up his
mind to apply in person to Rob for a portion of that healing salve, when
a fitting opportunity arrived and their mission had been carried through
successfully.
All of them listened anxiously as they went along. If a bird or a
squirrel moved amidst the pine needles or the branches of a neighboring
tree the sound, faint though it might be, gave them a corresponding
thrill, because their nerves were all on edge, so to speak. Had a deer,
lying in a thicket, suddenly bounded away with a crash of the
undergrowth, Tubby feared he would faint, it was apt to give him such a
terrible shock.
But there was no such alarm, and they were making steady progress all
the while. Rob, as a rule, mapped out his plan of campaign beforehand,
and he would have done so in this particular case also, only he
considered that the honor of giving the warning should belong to Donald.
The devoted Canadian boy had made a gallant attempt to carry the news of
his terrible discovery to those in charge of the bridge’s safety; he had
suffered all manner of pain and hardship in the effort, and it seemed
only fair that he should reap most of the reward.
Besides, Donald knew the lay of the land in the vicinity of the bridge.
Without his assistance as pilot to the expedition they might have
strayed from the path and lost so much valuable time that even though
they eventually arrived it would be only in time to hear the stunning
report that would tell them the bridge was destroyed, and that the
trainload of munitions had gone down into the gulf, a twisted mass of
wreckage.
Tubby had conceived a new and somewhat alarming thought, and he wished
that Rob had not placed that embargo on speech, for he wanted to ask a
question very much. As it was, he had to take it out in looking
anxiously upward every time they happened to be in an open bit of
ground, where one could glimpse the clear heavens overhead, by straining
the muscles of his neck terribly.
The fact of the matter was, Tubby had remembered about the aeroplane
which all of them had so earnestly watched on that other day, when it
sped across the line, descending low enough for the pilot to snap off a
series of pictures of the ground below, together with the long railway
bridge, and then once more scuttled away, heading for the American side
of the border. He wondered whether those who meant to undertake the
destruction of the bridge would come again in an aerial craft, and try
to drop bombs upon the bridge at the moment the freight from the west
was approaching the trestle.
Now, this was not so ridiculous as it might appear to some readers who
may not know that Tubby, together with Rob and Merritt Crawford, had
been abroad on the battlefields of Belgium and Northern France, where it
was even then, in the early stages of the war, a common occurrence for
aviators to soar over supply depots, railway stations, and various other
central points, to try and blow them up by bombs they let fall from a
great height. Why, Tubby could remember having looked upon a church used
as an observation tower that had been successfully bombed in that way by
a daring Teuton aviator.
He took a little more comfort, however, when presently he remembered
that Donald had heard the plotters going over the details of their
plans, and that according to all that was then said, they very evidently
meant to use dynamite, planted under the trestle, and fired by means of
a long copper insulated wire and a battery.
Plodding on, the little party began to ascend what seemed to be a
gradual rise of ground. This would indicate that they were drawing near
the railway line, for it was on a high bank at this place, a necessity
caused by the fact of having to cross the river close by.
Tubby wondered what the next half-hour was fated to bring forth. He
hoped they were going to meet with the success their efforts deserved,
and that the miserable scheme might be nipped in the bud. Tired as the
stout youth certainly must be, he was yet buoyed up by the excitement
that had him in its clutches; and though the threatened bridge had been
twice as far distant Tubby stood ready to keep going until he dropped
from sheer exhaustion.
But the time was coming when the dull monotony of that advance was fated
to be abruptly broken, and in a way calculated to give them a fresh
thrill.