to our feet. I suggest you and I stay close together, and a
few seconds before you are going to explode the shell, give me two taps
on the shoulder. Then I can give the cry of a hoot owl, and each man can
jump to his feet to be ready when the shell lights up the surroundings."
"Fine. Every man here know the cry of an owl?"
All did, so Fernald gave the order to lie down. The long, long minutes
dragged into an hour, and the hour into a second. The boys were so
restless that it was hard to lie quiet and still, but they forced
themselves to.
It was almost midnight, but it seemed like a week to the boys, when the
cracking of twigs and the crunch of feet warned of the approach of men.
It proved to be the party, for they heard a low growling imprecation
from Green as he stumbled over some object. Garry nudged Fernald, and
immediately felt two sharp taps on his shoulder. At once he imitated the
plaintive hoo-o-o- hoo-o-o- of an owl.
The men sprang to their feet. Fernald pressed the detonator of the star
shell, tossing it into the air as he did so. It fell to the ground and
shed its light, making it seem as bright and glaring as it would be in
the noonday sun.
The attacked party halted as though turned to stone for a moment, so
great was their surprise. Then Green let out a mighty cry.
They had no chance, for the businesslike rifles and revolvers of a dozen
men were pointed straight at them. The two Russians were unarmed, and
consequently unable to do anything had they wished. Every man gave up
except one.
That was the half-breed, LeBlanc. With a cry of rage he fired his rifle
into the midst of the men, fortunately hitting no one, and then turning,
ran fleet as a deer back across the border. One of the deputies raised
his rifle to shoot, but was speedily checked by Fernald.
"Shoot above his head to try and stop him, but don't hit him. He's on
the other side of the border now!"
Then ordering the men to extend their hands, the Customs agents soon had
them securely handcuffed.
Just at that moment an appalling thought came to Garry.
"Oh, Mr. Fernald. Suppose LeBlanc had the jewels!"
Truly the thought was a chilling one, but Fernald, always a man of
action, made no reply, but sprang to the side of one of the Russians and
searched him hastily but carefully. His search revealed nothing. Then
he turned to the second, and in a minute uttered a jubilant shout.
"This fellow has a chamois money belt on, and unles
|