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The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border

John Henry Goldfrap




  Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE CANADIAN BORDER

  By LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON

  Author of “The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol,” “The Boy Scouts on the Range,” “The Boy Scouts’ Mountain Camp,” “The Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam,” “TheBoy Scouts at the Panama Canal,” “The Boy Scouts and the Army Airship,” “The Boy Scouts with the Allies in France,” “The Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields,” “The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico,” “The Boy Scouts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition,” “The Boy Scouts’ Campaign for Preparedness,” “The Boy Scouts Under Sealed Orders,” “The Boy Scouts’ Badge of Courage,” etc.

  A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Printed in U. S. A.

  Copyright, 1918, by Hurst & Co., Inc.

  Printed in U. S. A.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I. A Glimpse over into Canada 5 II. Rumblings of Coming Trouble 19 III. By Aeroplane Across the Border 30 IV. An Invasion of the Camp 42 V. Comforting Tubby 54 VI. The Logging Camp 66 VII. An Unwelcome Intruder 78 VIII. Tubby Has an Adventure 91 IX. The Man Outside 104 X. Neatly Done 114 XI. Zeb Makes Good 129 XII. A Scout’s First Duty 142 XIII. A Thrilling Discovery 154 XIV. Rob Makes Up His Mind 166 XV. On Duty Bent 178 XVI. The Stone Cairn on the Border 190 XVII. Lynx Law 202 XVIII. The Trail to the Trestle 214 XIX. The Hunt for the Wire 226 XX. The Munition Train’s Approach 238 XXI. Cutting the Battery Connections 250 XXII. Like Old Times for the Scouts 260 XXIII. In Swift Pursuit 272 XXIV. Those Who Sat by the Fire 284 XXV. Bad Luck, and Good 296 XXVI. Everybody Satisfied 308

  The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border

  CHAPTER I A GLIMPSE OVER INTO CANADA

  “Suppose we hold up here, and rest a bit, fellows!”

  “We’ll have to accommodate you, Tubby. It really pains me to hear youpuffing and blowing so hard.”

  “Now, that’s just six words for me and half a dozen for yourself, AndyBowles. Haven’t I seen you look longingly at every log we passed, as ifyou wished Rob would give the order to sit down and recuperate? Honestto goodness, I do own up that I’m a trifle winded. This pack seems tokeep on getting heavier and heavier.”

  “You only imagine it does, Tubby, that’s all. If a fellow is shaped likea wash-tub, what else could you expect of him when it comes to toting aload of duffle and grub over a Maine carry?”

  “And when another angular chap I know is said to resemble abroom-handle, so far as symmetry and plumpness goes, you’ve got toexpect that his greatest feats are accomplished when grub is served.That’s a time, Andy Bowles, bugler of the Hampton Troop of Boy Scouts,when you make competition throw up its hands in despair and retire fromthe field; your capacity in that line is without a peer.”

  “That’s right, Tubby, take a swig of water from your battered oldcanteen after such a spread-eagle speech. I’m sure your throat must beparched, and as dry as a bone.”

  “Here, fellows, suppose you let up badgering each other; and after wedrop down on this log in the little open glade, what’s to hinder us fromfiguring out our next move in the search for Tubby’s Uncle George?”

  The energetic speaker was Rob Blake. Those fortunate boys who have readany or all of the preceding volumes in this Series, do not need to beintroduced to so prominent a character of the stories; but, of course,there will be many who are making the acquaintance of these wearers ofkhaki for the first time, and in justice to them it is only fair that weoffer a few explanations while the trio stretch themselves upon thatfriendly pine log.

  They all belonged to the famous Eagle Patrol of the Hampton Troop of BoyScouts, Hampton being a Long Island town on the south shore. In timesgone by many were the interesting happenings that came the way of someof the fellows belonging to that patrol. To even enumerate them herewould take too long a time, and hence he who is desirous of knowing moreabout Rob Blake and his chums is referred to earlier volumes, wherethrilling and uplifting scenes are depicted in a most entertainingfashion.

  Some of these boys had visited the Panama Canal; had even gone abroadand been in a position to witness stirring action in the great wartheater of Europe; spent delightful days wandering about the grounds ofthe wonderful Panama-Pacific Exposition out in California; chased overthe torrid deserts of Mexico, when the revolutionist, Pancho Villa, waspursuing his earlier meteor-like career on bloody battlefields; andlater still they had been connected with the amazing wave ofpreparedness that swept over our country from shore to shore.[1]

  What brought the three lads far up toward the international border atthis season of the fall can be easily explained. As the reader hasalready learned by reason of the words which Rob Blake uttered whensuggesting that they rest from their labors, it had something to do witha relative of fat Tubby Hopkins.

  “Uncle George” was a well-to-do gentleman, and a great sportsman. Everyautumn he would slip away from business cares and spend a month with acouple of faithful woods guides hunting in the solitudes. Sometimes hewent into the “bush” far up in the Canadian wilds after bull moose; orit might be seeking caribou in Labrador. This season it was not sopleasant to be within the boundaries of Canada, owing to the distractedconditions prevailing there, with young fellows enlisting for serviceabroad, and hundreds of men of German parentage and sympathies held inconcentration camps; so Uncle George had wisely chosen to confine hishunting to the most inaccessible region in Maine.

  Now it chanced that there had been some sort of epidemic in many LongIsland communities that summer, and at certain points it held out solong in the fall that the school authorities became alarmed. At Hampton,sessions had been taken up only to be hurriedly discontinued, nor wasschool to be resumed for a period of at least two weeks.

  That gave many of the boys a chance to lay plans for delightful outings.As a rule, the fall was a closed season to them, Saturday being theironly off-day; and usually they had to put in most of that weekly holidaypracticing for their football games to be played later.

  Just at the time this occurred, Tubby Hopkins came to Rob and announcedthat an opportunity had arisen whereby he and two companions could takea flying trip up into Maine at no cost to themselves, as his father wasready to put up every dollar of the expense.

  It seemed that a very important document sho
uld be signed by UncleGeorge within two weeks, or he and Mr. Hopkins stood to lose a largeamount of money. Since the devoted sportsman did not plan to be seen inthe realm of civilization under a whole month, and could not be reachedby wire or letter, it became absolutely necessary that some messengerfind his camp, and bring back the document signed.

  Tubby asked Rob to engineer the expedition, for he had the utmost faithin the ability of the acting scout master of the troop. As several otherfellows had already made arrangements for the new vacation, it happenedthat Andy Bowles was invited to make the third of the party.

  Now, while Tubby and Andy often “scrapped” so far as a verbal exchangeof pleasantries was concerned, they really were exceedingly fond of eachother; and so the little party promised to get along very nicelytogether.

  They had made the journey by railroad, leaving the cars at a certainsmall station, and, taking their packs on their backs, starting out onthe strength of the rather uncertain schedule of his expected movements,which Uncle George had left behind at his city house when heading towardthe Maine wilderness.

  If they did not find him at a certain logging camp, at least they werelikely to pick up a clue there as to where he had gone, and thus couldfollow after him. Rob had intended finding a competent guide, but itchanced that there was an unusually heavy demand for experiencedwoodsmen that season, and they met with several disappointments, untilfinally the others had urged Rob to make the plunge himself unattended.

  They knew that he could be depended on to lead them safely, for Rob hadconsiderable experience in woodcraft, and, besides this, carried areliable chart of the region they were traversing.

  Accordingly they had set forth valiantly, and at the time we meet themhad been tramping for two days. According to Rob’s figuring, they mustbe getting close to the logging camp where, possibly, they would findUncle George; at the same time he also knew that they were near theInternational Boundary.

  “If you take a look over that way, due north, fellows,” Rob was tellingthe other boys, as they sat there on the log, and pointing as he spoke,“you can see for several miles. Notice that big clump of hemlocks on therise yonder, along the near horizon? Well, unless I miss my guess,that’s Canada!”

  “But I don’t see the line, Rob,” observed Tubby vaguely.

  At this remark Andy Bowles burst forth in a laugh.

  “Why, listen to the innocent, will you, Rob! Honest, now, I believeTubby thinks the International Boundary is a real line drawn across theDivide from the Atlantic to the Pacific, to mark the division of UncleSam’s property from the Dominion of Canada and the Great NorthwestTerritory!”

  “Oh, shucks! Of course I was only joking,” stammered the confused Tubby.“So that’s Canada, is it, Rob? Almost any old place across the line we’dlikely find that conditions resembled Belgium and Northern Francesomewhat, with young men drilling at every crossroads, artillerycompanies rushing to stations to be sent across the sea, cavalry horsesbeing herded, cattle slaughtered for meat to keep the army supplied,wheat trains heading toward some Atlantic port to be shipped abroad tofeed those millions of fighters. Whee! It’s hard to believe thatpeaceful country over there can be _Canada_!”

  “Oh, that’s only the border, Tubby, you see,” explained Rob, alwaysready to accommodate. “Farther back I’ve no doubt all those things aredaily taking place, for you know Canada has already sent over threehundred thousand soldiers across the sea to fight for the Cause ofCivilization. You and I have been at the front, Tubby, and we know thespirit that animates most of those men among the Allies; also how theyexpect to stick to their job, now they’ve begun, until it’s finished.”

  “You mean, do you, Rob,” interrupted the listening Andy, who had not hadthe same good fortune as the others to see some of the fighting acrossin Belgium and Northern France, “that even while the Dominion is beingshaken from east to west, right here along the border it’s just as italways was?”

  “Well, hardly that,” continued the other hastily. “You know there havebeen all sorts of stories in the papers about plots hatched andengineered in the States by those whose sympathies are with Germany, andwho feel furious because of the never-ending trains loaded withmunitions, soldiers, food, aeroplane parts, motor trucks, and suchthings that an army in the field would require—these all heading acrossCanada, and aiming for the ports where steamers are waiting to carrycargoes to Great Britain. It would make these German sympathizers joyousif only _something_ might happen to cut off this endless chain ofsupplies for the Allies.”

  “Yes,” added Tubby eagerly. “I’ve read where the folks down inWashington are dreadfully alarmed lest one of these terrible schemes maysucceed. You recall how the President enjoined everybody in the Statesto be strictly neutral, and not to lift a hand toward doing anythingthat might be reckoned an unfriendly or unneighborly act by the arousedpeople of Canada? So now the Government on both sides is keeping anextra guard along the border, in order to nip any such black scheme inthe bud.”

  “I’ve been told that’s the case,” Rob assured them. The talk went onalong the same lines until finally the scout master, jumping up,announced:

  “Well, we’ve rested long enough, I guess! We’d better put our best footforward if we hope to get anywhere near that logging camp close to theborder. So pick up your packs, fellows, and we’ll be off!”

  “Oh, listen to that, would you!” cried Tubby excitedly. “It sounded justlike the far-away whistle of a railroad locomotive.”

  “A good guess, Tubby,” chuckled Andy, “because that’s just what it was.I half expected you’d ask Rob if it could be the scream of one of thoseCanadian lynx we’ve heard tell about are to be found up here.”

  They were conversing while walking, and once again the whistle sounded.Even Tubby could tell now that it came from the northwest. There wasalso a faint rumbling sound that indicated the passage of a heavy trainover a trestle, miles away.

  “Yes, the Great Canadian Railway runs close to the boundary along heresomewhere,” Rob said, “and I suppose we’ll often hear distant whistles,for the traffic at present must be unusually heavy. That’s likely a longtrain filled with grain, and all sorts of valuable supplies that arebeing sent from the rich Saskatchewan and Alberta country, as anoffering from the Canadian Northwest granary. It means another nail inthe coffin of the Germans, when it reaches the land across the sea. Allday long, and night, too, at intervals, those trains are running,carrying millions and millions of dollars’ worth of supplies.”

  “Huh!” chuckled Tubby, “if a German only chanced to live around here,he’d have to stuff cotton in his ears to shut out the sound; becauseeach rumble of trains would mean to him more trouble for his friendsacross the sea.”

  They pushed on for some time. Rob evidently had his plan of campaignwell figured out, for he now turned sharply to the left and headedalmost due west. Apparently he fancied he was as near the InternationalBoundary as there might be any need of going; and that the lone loggingcamp must lie farther along the new course.

  The startling idea had occurred to Tubby that, all unbeknown tothemselves, they might inadvertently stray across the line, and bearrested as invaders, by some of those alert Canadian guards mentionedby Rob. The thought disturbed him considerably, and he was about tospeak of it, despite the jeers with which he felt sure Andy would greetthe idea, when something else suddenly came to pass that completely putit out of his head.

  There was a crashing sound heard close by, a swishing of theundergrowth, and then a bounding object flashed into view, which took onthe shape of a two-year-old buck, leaping frantically over logs andbushes, as though possessed. Upon his neck and shoulders the boysglimpsed a strange, mysterious gray hunch!