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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.

CHAPTER XXII
LIKE OLD TIMES FOR THE SCOUTS

“There, that settles it. Donald wants us to show up,” Tubby broke out with, rejoiced in the opportunity to discontinue his long silence.

“Are we going, Rob?” demanded Andy, even more impatient.

“Come along, everybody!” decided the scout master.

With that they arose to their feet, the distressing period of crouching and trying to hide themselves being at an end. They could all take deep breaths and begin to experience some of the joy that comes with the advent of victory after a hard-fought battle.

Rob led the way, and they quickly arrived at the foot of the steep embankment which marked the joining of the railway with the beginning of the trestle. Up this they started bravely. Tubby began to have his own troubles immediately, for, as might be expected, the soil started to crumble more or less under his feet. Tubby was unusually awkward about getting a footing.

Several times he started to slide back, and only recovered himself with difficulty. Then came an occasion when he failed to secure a grip, and as his weight caused the earth and stones to crumble more and more under him Tubby commenced rolling down the slope like a barrel, clawing at a wild rate to the right and to the left.

He undoubtedly would have gone all of the route and brought up where he began his climb, much the worse for his experience, but for Zeb. The big Maine guide chanced to be below the rest, and was thus able to reach out and seize upon the revolving Tubby. By bracing himself, Zeb also managed to bring the other to a full stop. Tubby was in luck, as usually happened. He once again started upward, as if he were the famous youth in the poem whose motto, when climbing the snow-clad heights, was “Excelsior”; only Tubby did not expect to meet with the other’s sad fate.

In this fashion, assisted by the man of the woods, Tubby was enabled to finally gain the top of the embankment. Rob and Andy had already advanced to join the little group of excited men hurrying toward the spot.

There was Donald in the lead, with a sturdy man in overalls at his side, whose arm was proudly thrown across the boy’s shoulders; for Robert McGuffey realized that his boy had covered the family name with honor by his action. Then came the conductor of the train, a man in uniform, who carried a lighted lantern, together with a number of soldiers armed with guns. Every one of them seemed eager and full of enthusiasm, for the war no longer lay thousands of miles off, with an ocean rolling between – it had actually come to their very doors.

One man, who Rob could see was an officer, he thought a lieutenant at least, immediately bustled up and faced him. He leaned forward and looked earnestly into the face of the scout, whose khaki uniform must have interested him.

“This boy who turns out to be the engineer’s son,” he hurriedly said, “tells us you and your comrades are American lads and that you have crossed the boundary to give warning that a vile plot was on foot to dynamite the bridge. Is this the truth, or a fairy story?”

“Yes, it is what brings us here, sir,” replied Rob simply. “Most of the credit for discovering the truth belongs to Donald McGuffey.”

“No, no; for where would I have been only for your finding me caught in the auld bear trap?” cried the other energetically. “Besides, I never could hae reached here alone, in time to save the bridge. If there be any honor, every one o’ ye shares in the same.”

“This sounds very fine,” said the officer, who could hardly bring himself to believe that it was the truth. “What proof have you to back your story up?”

Impulsive Andy could contain himself no longer. He was more than a little indignant that their word should be even doubted.

“Rob, show them, won’t you? Seeing is believing every time, and we’ve got all the proof any one would want, a dozen times over.”

“Yes, show him, Rob, please do!” urged Tubby, also beginning to feel a righteous indignation.

“If you will come with us, sir,” Rob told the officer, “you can see enough to convince you we have told nothing but the truth.”

“Lead on, and we will follow,” the other commanded; and then, turning, he added something in low tones to a couple of his men, who immediately closed in on either side of the boys and Zeb.

But Rob only smiled. He could easily afford to laugh, knowing as he did what was in store for the Doubting Thomas of a Canadian officer, who, fearful of being made the victim of a joke, would not believe without positive evidence.

Accordingly down the bank they all plunged, while the engine continued to fret near by, as though repenting of having been stopped short. Possibly Tubby would have excelled all the rest in making that descent, for he had already commenced to slide, and in another moment must have taken a header, only for the strong arm of Zeb, the Maine guide, having hovered near in the rôle of protector and defender.

Once at the bottom, Rob, taking in his bearings, led the way directly to the spot where, with his comrades, he had been lately crouching. The first thing he did on arriving was to take the lighted lantern from the hand of the train conductor and hold it close to the ground.

“There is the copper insulated wire that ran from the battery to the planted mine,” he explained.

The officer, bending forward, looked it over. His doubts began to vanish, for surely this seemed like stern business.

“Who cut this wire?” he demanded sharply.

“I did, sir,” replied Rob modestly.

“What was your object in doing it?” continued the soldier, eyeing the scout with kindling interest.

“We knew that the first thing to be done was to prevent those conspirators from using their battery to discharge the mine,” explained Rob, “and that if only we could come upon the connections and sever them they would have their teeth drawn. But it was only at the last minute we managed to find the concealed wire; for as you can see, sir, they had it pinned close to the ground with these metal staples.”

He pulled one of the crooked bits of stout wire up as he spoke and showed them how craftily it worked. Everybody pushed forward to see. The conductor of the million-dollar freight knew he was losing valuable time and would have to run additionally fast if he ever hoped to make it up; but the story of the scout interested him deeply, and, besides, it had a direct bearing on the safety of himself and crew, so he felt justified in lingering.

“Now,” continued Rob, “none of us has as yet set eyes on any mine. We only believe one has been planted under the trestle here. It would be the right thing for us to follow up this broken wire and see for ourselves how true this theory is. Shall we start, sir?”

“Without a second’s delay!” snapped the aroused lieutenant. “There may yet be sufficient time to pursue the rascals and bring them to justice for this attempted outrage. And believe me, boy, we will make them pay dearly for their fun, if only we can lay hands on the cowardly curs!”

Still holding the lantern, and followed by the group, Rob was already tracing the course of the pinned-down copper wire. As he had the conductor’s light, of course that worthy had to keep trotting at his heels, which was sufficient excuse for further delay on his part.

They speedily came to the high trestle, and passed under the heavy beams and timbers of which it was constructed. Then there were exclamations that ran the whole gamut of wonder and horror, when the end of the wire showed them a small box that contained enough explosives to wreck the entire structure, for it had been artfully placed so as to do the utmost damage possible.

“Lift up that box and handle it carefully, two of you men,” ordered the officer. “Soak it in the river, and stand guard over it until relieved. We will want it as evidence when handing in a report of this mad adventure.”

Hardly waiting to see that they started to carry out his instructions, he turned once more upon Rob. Now there was only admiration in the officer’s manner of speaking to the boy.

“We apparently owe a great deal to the efficiency of you and your brave scout comrades, my lad,” said the now convinced lieutenant. “Perhaps you could add still further to the debt by showing us where those scoundrels were in hiding, waiting to fire the mine. I confess an overpowering desire to follow them, and save them the trouble of recrossing the boundary line.”

“Nothing easier, sir,” calmly replied Rob. “All we have to do is to follow the other half of the broken wire and it will lead us to their nest.”

“Well, I should say so!” chuckled Andy, wondering why the officer had not hit upon this very simple method instantly; but then, Andy reflected, the poor fellow had in his youth never had the chance of becoming a scout and learning the art of using his wits to look for the cause of things, as well as cultivating the habit of observation.

Back they hurried in an eager bunch to the spot where Rob had severed the connecting link with his little combination pliers and wire-cutter. Here the other line was taken up. It led them toward the identical spot where the boys had previously decided the plotting invaders were hidden. This proved to be a clump of dense bushes, affording an excellent refuge secure from discovery, although it was near enough to the railway embankment to allow observation.

“You see, here’s the battery,” laughed Rob, making good use of the lantern again, and everybody gasped as they saw what he was pointing at.

Apparently, when the men in hiding had failed to fire the mine and realized that their terrible plot had “missed connections” in some strange way, they must have been suddenly overwhelmed with a panic, for they had fled in such haste that no attempt had been made to carry off their belongings, and so the fine little battery was abandoned to its fate.

There was no longer the shadow of a doubt in the mind of the wary lieutenant. He forgot that he had mistrusted these boys in the beginning, and suspected that they were trying to gain some glory, without any real basis for their wonderful story. All this Rob understood when the other impulsively grasped and squeezed his hand, at the same time exclaiming:

“I am proud to meet you, my brave young chap. I only regret that you are not a Canadian like Donald here. You have done us a tremendous favor by your energy and your Yankee smartness. I am going to ask you to help us still further. If only we could capture those villains, it would complete this wonderful night’s work. Will you accompany me with several of my men, while we try and cut them off before they can recross the line and find refuge in the States?”

“Oh, Rob!” cried Andy; and that was all he said, but there was a world of entreaty in those two words.

The scout master, whose indignation had been fully aroused because of that late near-tragedy, in which his country would have been undoubtedly involved, did not take ten seconds to make up his mind.

“Yes, we’ll gladly coöperate with you to try and round them up, sir; three of us at least will go with you, and the sooner we start the better chances we’ll have for success.”

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