CHAPTER XVI

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.