CHAPTER XV ON DUTY BENT
About this time Rob ceased rubbing in the salve.
“There,” he told Donald, as he helped the other draw down his trouserleg once more, “I’ve done all I can for the present. I’ll take the salvealong, and let you have another application later on, if you want me to;or it may be your good mother at home will have something just as fine.”
Tubby had been impressed with the grit of the boy who had shown such acommendable spirit. He understood what Donald meant when he said he wasbound to go along, no matter if he had to hobble, or even crawl a partof the way. Tubby thought that if this was a fair sample of the valiantfellows whom “Our Lady of the Snows,” as Canada is often called, hadsent across the sea, they would surely “do their bit” for the cause theybelieved was just.
“Oh, Rob, we forgot one thing!” suddenly exclaimed Tubby.
“What’s that?” demanded Andy.
“Why, my uncle, you know, boys, will be coming back, perhaps before wereturn, and he won’t know what to make of seeing our things here withouta word of explanation.”
“I’ve thought of that,” said the scout leader promptly, nor was Tubbymuch surprised; it seemed as though Rob never forgot anything. “Sit downand write a few lines in a hurry, Tubby, while the rest of us finishwhat few preparations are still necessary. For one thing, I’m going tofill the lantern again, because the tank is pretty low and I’ve found agallon of oil handy.”
“But what shall I tell him?” asked the other, as he dropped upon a seatnear the rude table on which were paper and pencil.
“Just say what’s fetched us up here, and that you’re going to leave thepaper he’s to sign. Then he can see that it gets back safe, in caseanything should happen to keep us from returning here.”
Tubby winced when he heard those words, they seemed so suggestive ofsome unknown peril threatening them. He kept on asking questions.
“I’d better say something about where we’ve gone, and why, hadn’t I,Rob?”
“Yes, just as little as you can; and now get busy. We’ll be ready toleave here in less than thirty shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
So Tubby started in. He may never have taken the prize for rapidity inpenmanship and composition at school, for he was slow in everything heundertook, save eating. Spurred on by necessity which knows no law, hewrote hurriedly, telling in as few words as he could the “gist” of whatwas required. If any of the teachers in Hampton High could have watchedTubby as he sat there, with his tongue-tip between his teeth and a lookof grim determination on his ruddy countenance, and witnessed how hispencil glided rapidly across the paper, they would have certainlybelieved the world was coming to an end, or at least that wonders neverceased, for Tubby could no longer be called “as slow as molasses inwinter” or possessed of the characteristics of the creeping snail.
“There, that’s done!” said the writer finally, with a sigh of relief.“I’ve made a bully good job of it, too, Rob—saying just enough withoutany superfluous language. I hope Uncle George doesn’t destroy thismessage. I think it’s a real gem, and as good as anything I ever did.I’d like to preserve it.”
“Well, we’re about ready,” said Rob quickly. “Andy’s got a snack of foodto take along, so we may be prepared for emergencies.”
“Oh, I hope now you don’t dream that we’ll get lost and wander allaround in a dense Canadian bush for days!” exclaimed the alarmed Tubby.
“Not at all, with two such clever guides along,” Rob told him. “You knowpreparedness is one of the cardinal virtues of every true scout. I neverknew the time when some fellows would refuse to take a bite, especiallyafter some hours of rough tramping.”
They also saw to it that plenty of food was placed where the dog couldsecure it, for it was utterly out of the question for them to think ofletting the animal accompany them. He might, by some inadvertent act,betray them at a time when it would mean unnecessary risk and trouble.
Tubby had placed the valuable paper and his explanatory missive on thetable, so arranging them that they would catch the eye of his uncle assoon as the sportsman entered the bunk-house. Wolf had been fastenedwith a piece of rope, for it was not necessary that he should have thefreedom of the place. Tubby was too tender-hearted to neglect a singlething in connection with the dog’s comfort while they were absent.Accordingly, he had placed a bucket full of water within easy reach ofthe dog.
“Good-bye, old chap!” he told Wolf, and received a friendly bark inreturn. “We’ll see you later, perhaps in the morning. Make yourself athome, and, above all things, be sure not to gorge too much. It’s a badthing to make a pig of yourself about eating, Wolf. I’ve known a humanto come back for a fourth helping, when he could hardly breathe, and hewas thin in the bargain, like you. So farewell, old Wolf, and takethings easy while we’re gone.”
At another time Andy might have flared up because of this directallusion to his particular failing, and declared that he “was not theonly pebble on the beach” when it came to “stuffing,” but there was somuch of a more thrilling nature to occupy his mind that he let it go by,just as water might run off a duck’s back.
They passed outside, and the door was fastened with the bar. Wolf barkedseveral times, and there was a note of wonder in his dog language, asthough he could not at all understand what it meant. Then Tubby heardplain sounds from within that told him his warning had fallen on deafears, for Wolf was already starting in to have a glorious feast, afterwhich he would probably lie down contentedly and indulge in a soundsleep; nor would he mind being left alone as long as the food supplyheld out—he was only a dog, you see, with a dog’s nature.
“Good-bye, old shack!” said Tubby, who seemed to have a streak ofsentiment in his make-up, considerably more so than either of his mates.“We’ve certainly enjoyed you as long as we were here, and hope to seeyou again soon. Ta-ta!”
“Oh, let up on all that talk, Tubby!” complained Andy. “I really believeyou love to hear yourself speak. If there’s anything worth while to say,it isn’t so bad. Better save your wind, because you’ll need it unlessall the signs fail.”
Tubby, knowing that these were really words of wisdom, managed to“bottle up” as he was directed. Indeed, once they had commenced tothread the mazes of the forest he found that he had all he could do tofollow the lead of the lame boy who served as guide to the expedition.All sorts of obstacles lay in the way, and it seemed as though most ofthese took especial delight in getting under Tubby’s feet. He had tododge snags, climb over logs, brush through bushes that plucked hiscampaign hat from his head and scratched his face, slide down intominiature gullies, and then painfully climb up the opposite side; andall these various “ups and downs” kept repeating themselves over andover again.
But Tubby was “dead game.” He had entreated to be allowed to accompanythis expedition across the line, and no matter what happened, his chumswould never hear a complaint from his lips, not if he died in theendeavor to “keep up with the procession.”
Shame alone would have kept Tubby from showing any sign of weakness. Heknew Donald must be suffering agonies from that sorely injured leg ofhis, for Tubby watched him limp at times when he forgot himself and halfdrag that limb after him. Well, it would be disgusting, according toTubby’s notion, for a well and hearty fellow of his build to let a gamelittle Canadian chap, with a bruised leg in the bargain, leave him inthe lurch.
So they moved on, Rob had lighted the refilled lantern, believing thatwhile there was no danger of their being discovered it was wise to haveit burning, for the illumination, while scant in its way, might prove atime-saver. This allowed them to see what obstacles lay in their path,for which Tubby was very thankful; it undoubtedly saved him many astumble, and possibly not a few bruises.
Big Zeb followed behind Rob, who was second, and Andy came between thewoods guide and Tubby. In this order they were strung out along thezigzag path which, thin as it was through less frequent use i
n thesedays since the loggers had gone, could evidently be easily discovered bythe sharp vision of the young Canadian scout.
This grouping also allowed Rob to hold occasional communication withDonald or Zeb, as the inclination or the necessity arose. After they hadbeen going for some time Rob thought it well to find out whether Zebagreed with the course along which the engineer’s son was leading them.
“I don’t suppose, Zeb,” he said softly, “that you chance to know of anyshorter way for crossing the International Boundary?”
“No, I don’t know,” admitted the big guide. “He’s goin’ as straight asthe flight o’ an arrow for the line. I knows this here path. Many a timehave I gone along it, with Mr. Hopkins, who wasn’t mindin’ much whichside o’ the line he got his moose on, so long as nobody bothered him.An’ some o’ the border patrols could be fixed to wink at that sort o’thing; because the moose, ye see, passed from one side to the otherright along. Yes, we’re gettin’ tha, younker, as neat as ye please.Donald sure knows what he’s adoin’.”
This was comforting news for Rob. It also pleased the others. When thereis much need for accuracy two heads are often better than one,especially when in full accord.
Tubby figuratively “shook hands with himself” when he heard this, for itserved to allay his last lingering suspicion that Rob feared they mightget lost in the wilderness.
Although the fact has not been thus far mentioned, it can be taken forgranted that the party left none of their firearms behind them at thelogging camp when they started forth upon this dangerous mission. Theydid not know positively that any occasion would arise when thepossession of these weapons would save them a world of trouble. Sincethey were about to compete with desperate plotters, who would naturallybe armed, every one believed it was good policy to be ready to defendthemselves in an emergency. As Rob said, “when you’re in Rome you’ve gotto do as the Romans do.”
“How far from the logging camp would you say the border lies, Donald?”asked Rob, after more time had passed.
“Not more than two full miles alang this path,” came the answer.
“Right, to the dot!” commented Zeb.
“But surely we’ve come nearly that far by now,” Tubby up and said fromthe rear, as he ducked under some bushes that developed a fondness forscratching his face.
“We are nearly there,” asserted the guide, and then Andy hastilyexclaimed:
“Listen, boys! that sounds like the rumble of a train right now in thenear distance!”
“Oh! horrors!” gasped Tubby. “Can it be that we’re too late, after all?”
The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border Page 15