CHAPTER XXIII

IN SWIFT PURSUIT

Tubby grunted.

He immediately understood that Rob did not mean to include _him_ in the party that was to try and cut the invaders off before they could recross the boundary line. Really, Tubby did not know whether to be glad or sorry. To be sure, he always wanted to have a hand in everything patriotic that was going on, which might reflect credit on the scout uniform; and in one way he would have dearly delighted in being present, should those unknown plotters be brought to book. But then it promised to prove an arduous undertaking, since all possible haste must be made; and this would necessitate driving through the brush with utter disregard as to who was tagging along at the rear of the procession, a place Tubby occupied about ten times out of ten.

Well, to be philosophical, Tubby concluded to calmly abide by whatever decision Rob arrived at. As scout leader he ought to know what was best for all concerned, and really it would be much more comfortable sitting there with the bridge guards and chatting, rather than butting up against unseen trees and getting “the map of Ireland” scratched on his face by a score of thorny bushes.

The train conductor could not think of accompanying them, though he generously told Rob to keep the lantern; this trifling sacrifice was the least thing he could do to show his deep gratitude, for it looked as though his life might have paid the penalty, only for the valor of these three scouts and Donald.

The engineer had to return with him, too, and there was an affectionate parting between Mr. McGuffey and his boy; for, despite his lame leg, Donald—that stubborn Scotch blood showing again—had concluded that he, too, wanted to be in the chase.

So Rob, Andy, Zeb and Donald, together with the lieutenant and two of his men, started off in hot haste. Too many precious minutes had already been taken up with this hunt for the hidden mine; the panic-stricken fugitives by now must be well on their way toward the border, and unless the pursuers were smart they would never overtake them in time.

One thing was in their favor: The men from the other side could not be very well acquainted with the locality. They had been able to reach the vicinity of the trestle and the bridge which they had doomed for destruction by making use of the map drawn and the aerial photographs taken by the pilot of the aeroplane, that had hovered over the railway embankment on that occasion witnessed by the scouts; but now that this near-panic had gripped them, there was a chance of becoming twisted in their bearings and losing their way.

Tubby went back to the bridge, and, making friends with several young fellows, he quickly won a way to their regard by his chummy manner. Tubby never lacked for friends because his warm heart quickly aroused a feeling of reciprocation. He was soon seated, with a number of deeply interested fellows in uniform, telling of the amazing things he, Rob and Merritt Crawford had seen—yes, and been engaged in also—when across the water in the fighting zones of Belgium and France. As none of these sturdy sons of Canada had as yet crossed, and they were all deeply interested in everything connected with the ferocious warfare going on over the sea, it can be readily understood that Tubby soon lost his humorous aspect in their eyes, induced by his rotund figure, and became a genuine hero.

Meanwhile the train had once more started, crossing the bridge in safety, thanks to the work of Rob and his chums. It was soon miles away from the danger point, heading toward the blue sea, to have its million-dollar cargo stowed in the holds of various steamers bound for the direction of the fighting fronts.

Since Rob had elected to accompany the hunting party, it must be our duty to keep track of the doings of this detachment. Donald and Zeb were called upon once more to exercise their judgment with regard to reaching the border by the shortest possible route. This would be the very path over which they had come; and in a short time Rob, upon using the lantern, decided that the fugitives had made use of another route, for there was no sign of tracks heading south. He could easily pick out their own footprints, especially those plain ones made by Tubby; but in no instance were they superseded by fresher tracks.

This did not discourage them in the least. In fact, Donald declared he felt sure he knew how the fugitives would go, as there was only a choice between two trails, unless they lost themselves and wandered aimlessly to and fro.

Somewhere close to the border he declared it would be possible for them to make a swift turn and cut across to the other trail, upon hearing which the officer displayed considerable satisfaction.

“That sounds well to me, Donald,” he told the engineer’s son. “Put us where we can lie in ambush and surprise those fiends, and you will be doing your country the greatest possible service. I would willingly give five years of my own life for an opportunity to take those rascals and show the curs who plot to ruin our cause what it means to invade Canada from a friendly country.”

Rob, in a measure, could feel for the officer. His own indignation had kept growing the more he considered what the probable result of an explosion must have been, with that train on the trestle at the time. Yes, while scouts were not supposed to take sides with either party in the great war being waged—and Rob had shown on several notable occasions that he had a warm feeling for the German people, much as he hated the methods by means of which their leaders were conducting the campaign of frightfulness—at the same time he considered that these plotters had by their action placed themselves outside the pale of scout law. Rob looked upon them not as heroes daring deadly perils for the sake of their beloved Fatherland, but in the light of cowardly schemers who would creep up and do a terrible crime without taking any great risk themselves.

As haste was the chief object now, everything else had to give way to this one thing. It was entirely different from their former advance along this trail—when they did not know what dangers lurked about them and were compelled to move along in the semi-darkness, almost groping their way at times. Now with that lantern showing them all obstacles they made rapid progress. Besides, it almost seemed to Rob as though he were familiar with the route.

Then again a little later Rob came around to look at things in still another light. He was not inclined to be bloodthirsty, as a rule, and since the great plot had failed, perhaps it might be just as well if the men escaped. They could spread the disastrous story among their kind in the States, and thus discourage any renewal of similar activities.

They were making good time. Even Donald, limping along, managed to keep his proud position as leader of the expedition. The praise that had come his way of late, from his own father as well as others, had acted like a bracing tonic upon his entire system, and encouraged him to make further drafts upon his physical strength.

Andy, leaving all the labor of following the path to those in the lead, devoted himself to keeping a wary eye upon the surrounding forest. He cherished a faint hope that possibly the fugitives, having become lost, might think to go into camp; and if they were incautious enough to start a fire Andy wanted to be the one to spy it out first.

Nothing happened up to the time when they glimpsed that rocky cairn which marks the dividing line between Canada and the United States.

“Here is the border, sir,” said Donald to the lieutenant, “and ye ken the ither trail lies yonder toward the east. If so be we gang awa’ ower that way it is probable that we may run across the wretches.”

“Then let us start without any more delay, Donald,” decided the officer.

“Do you think, Donald,” ventured Rob, “that you can take us there without the use of this lantern? If we keep on as we are going, I’m afraid they will glimpse the light and give us the slip. How about it, Donald?”

“Oh, ay, it will nae be so verra hard, I ween,” instantly replied the confident young Canadian, as the scout master anticipated he would. So the light was “doused,” and they continued their forward movement with only the stars to afford any illumination.

They turned abruptly to the left, and headed into the east. Donald assured them that about this point the other trail did not lie more than two-thirds of a mile away; and he felt pretty positive they would be able to make it before the fugitives, stumbling along in the half-darkness, could get there.

At first they found it rather difficult walking, for their eyes had become accustomed to the assistance given by the train conductor’s splendid lantern, and there were more or less frequent collisions with trees and stumps and unseen rocks. But by degrees this difficulty was removed, and the accidents became less numerous.

Andy was once more feeling that prickly sensation commencing to chase along his spine, such as approaching excitement always engendered. Andy was not thinking along the same lines as Rob. He really _yearned_ to see the rascals pay the penalty. Andy would not have been at all concerned could he see them fall into the hands of the military authorities of Canada, even knowing that in times of war they must be taken before a court-martial and in all probability would be condemned to be summarily shot by a firing squad.

Once again Andy was using his eyes in the endeavor to make some sort of pleasing discovery. He wanted to shine more in the limelight; thus far circumstances had not been kind to him, for he had not been permitted to take a leading part in anything that had occurred; and Andy was ambitious.

They had been moving on for some time without anything happening, when he suddenly had a distinct thrill. What could that faint glow mean that he had just discovered ahead? It was true that it lay somewhat to the right, and Andy imagined this might mean American territory instead of that belonging to Canada; but then who would know the difference, and if the prisoners were carried back to the railway there would never be any proof that they had been taken on foreign soil.

Andy had a brief struggle in his mind over this, and then he decided that under the circumstances it would be easily justifiable; at any rate, far be it from him to venture to call the circumstance to the attention of the officer in charge of the pursuit. If the lieutenant chose to take it upon himself to consider that they were still north of the line, why, so it must go on the records.

Having salved his conscience in this rather elastic fashion, which was quite wrong in a scout, though Andy would not allow himself to believe it, the boy concluded to direct the attention of his companions to the glow as soon as he detected it again.

This happened a minute or so later, and Andy, having figured out his course, hastened to remark eagerly:

“Rob, look over there to the right, will you? That must mean a camp fire is burning back of some mound or clump of thick brush, wouldn’t you think?”

Every one looked. It was evidently the consensus of opinion, to judge from the various remarks that arose, that Andy was correct. Undoubtedly a small fire was burning in that quarter, and what more likely than that the fugitives, believing themselves safe across the border, had decided to halt and repair such damages as they may have suffered during their mad flight through the dark woods?