CHAPTER XXI

CUTTING THE BATTERY CONNECTIONS

That was what had happened. Rob turned out to be the lucky one. Andy might have run upon the wire a couple of seconds later, for his hand was at the time groping near that of his chum.

The wire was held down close to the ground by frequent metal wickets, as Rob had figured might be the case, for that would have been his own method of concealing the wire, and could be easily accomplished by a second man who crept after the one allowing the wire to free itself from the big spool he carried.

Rob was not bothering himself about these details now. To get that wire cut in twain before the man handling the battery at the other end sent the electric current along that would discharge the mine—that was his one endeavor.

Tubby knew he was working to accomplish this end. He watched what was going on so close by, though Rob and Andy could only be seen indistinctly; but Tubby was able to easily supply through a lively imagination whatever was lacking.

Tubby turned his head and looked toward the span. In imagination he could see it give a sudden, terrible heave and go flying in many fragments toward the sky!

Just when it was beginning to get unbearable, so that Tubby was almost forced to shout out, the suspense ended. He knew from the chuckle that Andy could not for the life of him suppress, that the wire had yielded to the force Rob was applying, and no longer ran in a connected line from mine to battery!

As long as he lived Tubby would surely never, never forget the spasm of glorious feeling that shot through his whole mind and body when he realized this stupendous fact. When one has been straining might and main to accomplish a given thing, and at the last gasp victory comes into his hand, that is the time he feels like a world conqueror and would not change places with any king living. Tubby passed through this experience, even though his may not have been the hand to wield those magical little pliers with which the wire had been severed. However, the honor and glory was great enough to go all around, and every fellow who had anything to do with the deed ought to share in the result.

Rob, having cut the wire, hastened to wind one end about the nearest stout bush he could reach, choosing the base, so as to have it afford effectual resistance.

This was that portion of the broken wire which had connection with the battery; the other end he cared nothing about, since the mine had been rendered harmless. It was just as well that the plotters did not know in too big a hurry how their cunning scheme had been nipped in the bud. Time enough for that when the fellow finally pressed his battery key into service, only to find to his utter amazement and disgust that no roaring response followed his action.

“Well,” Tubby gloatingly told himself, “perhaps those chaps would be a surprised lot when they found out what a mess they had made of it, not only missing the destruction of the million-dollar munition train, but failing to even blow up the bridge itself as intended. There’s many a slip between the cup and the lip, they say. I guess it was a bad hour for your schemes, my boys, when Rob Blake put his foot in this affair. As usual, it promises to wind up in fresh glory for the Eagles.”

Tubby was not the only one who breathed more freely after the wire was cut. Rob and Andy, possibly also Zeb, felt like chuckling as the culminating stroke was given that put it out of the power of the men hidden in the bushes to carry out their dark designs.

Rob suddenly became more ambitious. Why be satisfied with half a job, when still more could be accomplished? What was to hinder them from getting help from the guards who watched over the railway property at this particular point—soldiers in uniform, undoubtedly—and trying to effect the capture of the unseen miscreants who had dishonored the hospitality afforded by Uncle Sam?

Rob had hardly given this thought any attention up to now, but once it gripped him he allowed it to have full sway. But nothing could be done until the train either stopped short or else proceeded across the bridge. He believed the former was certain to be the case, for Donald, not being sure the danger was abated, would never let his father speed past and enter upon the danger zone.

“She’s coming fast now,” breathed Andy in the other’s ear. “There, that whistle must be meant as a signal to those at the bridge. All trains do that before getting too close, so the engineer can be given a right-of-way signal.”

Rob somehow did not try to stop Andy from saying this. In fact, he was not feeling one half so solicitous over the risk of being heard by the plotters, as before he had rendered their cause hopeless. About this time he noticed that there was a strange grinding noise in connection with the rumble of the near-by train. He understood from this that brakes were being hurriedly applied.

They could now see the glare of the headlight. Apparently the train had shot out from some cut where the banks up to that moment had concealed its presence.

This would indicate, Rob believed, that some one must have signalled to the man in the cab to pull up; in such troublous times the engineer had to quickly obey such a summons, especially when approaching this bridge, which was known to be the most dangerous point along the entire line, since it was so vulnerable to an attack from raiders.

Rob could also easily believe that Donald himself was responsible for the waving of the red light that spelled danger. He must have made up his mind while climbing the bank that he could afford to take no chances, and that saving the train, as well as his father, was his most pressing duty.

Well, no one could blame the boy, for in so doing he only obeyed the dictates of his loyal heart. As has been already stated, Rob would have told him to carry out this very thing if it had occurred to him forcibly at the time they parted company.

The quartette crouching on the low ground not a great way from the trestle now heard loud voices. The guards were running forward, some of them, to find out the reason of the train stopping as it did when they had given no signal. Possibly it might be some clever trick of an enemy lurking near by, to draw them away from the bridge, so that damage of some sort could be attempted; and hence being cautious as well as brave they divided their force, a portion remaining spread along the structure in order to shoot down any loiterer who could not answer their challenge properly.

“Rob, why don’t we make a move?” pleaded Andy, unable to check his customary impatience.

“Hold your horses,” the scout master told him. “We ought to wait until Donald has had a fair chance to explain. Then the soldiers can learn about our being down here and will not fire on us if we commence to climb the bank. Only for that, they might let loose; and it’s a mighty poor time to apologize to a fellow after he’s dead. Tubby?”

“Yes, Rob, what is it?” came softly from near by.

“What are you doing?”

“Why, don’t you know, Rob, I’ve just been holding my finger on the pulse of those men who have made such a bad mess of their brilliant plan; and, honest to goodness, Rob, I believe they know by this time that they’ve been hoodwinked, kerflummixed, and also knocked silly.”

“But how do you know all that, Tubby?” gasped the astonished Andy.

“Oh, I’ve been feeling the wire, you see. It gave several of the most vicious pulls ever, just like the chap at the battery end couldn’t understand why no explosion came along when he pressed the button and turned on the juice, so to speak. It is to laugh, fellows. This looks like a second Waterloo, only it’s the German neutrality-breakers who are up against it this time, instead of the heroic French.”

Now, both of the others considered that this was quite a clever piece of strategy, and particularly for a boy like Tubby, whose wits would so often go wool-gathering, instead of netting prompt returns. Indeed, Andy felt chagrined to think that it had never once occurred to him to try this scheme. Tubby had scored heavily, for once. He was evidently quite proud of his success, too, for they could hear an occasional queer chuckle emanating from the place where he had squatted down like an enormous toad, ready to stay or go, as Rob decided.

The running guards were drawing near the stalled engine which continued to pant and throb as locomotives do when under a full head of steam and standing still on the rails. The soldiers would be quickly put in possession of the main facts by Donald, who would be vouched for by his father.

Rob turned and looked in the direction where, as he fully believed, the unknown invaders from the other side of the boundary line had been recently secreted. He wondered what they were doing, now that they realized how their game was up, and that unless they succeeded in taking themselves off in a hurry they might yet be made victims of the rifles of the Canadian bridge guards.

By this time Donald must have told the astounded guards enough of the story to cause them to refrain from using their ready guns when dark figures were seen coming up the bank. Yes, there was Donald calling out to them, saying the coast was clear and that it was all right for his four friends to come up so as to corroborate his amazing story.