The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico Part 17
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Tubby was asking, when about half an hour had crept by since the patrol leader left them.
He had become quite anxious, so much so, in fact, that with many grunts and "whees" he had actually managed to get upon his feet. Either Andy or Merritt would have been only too willing to lend the fat chum a helping hand, but Tubby was more or less proud and sensitive; he might accept a.s.sistance from Rob, who never made a habit of laughing in his face, but it was a different matter when any of the other scouts were concerned.
Then he had practiced waving his signal flags to and fro, making those particular movements that stood for letters in the Myers' code of wig-wagging. These had been readily interpreted by both Merritt and Andy, who were fairly up in the service, and could also relay messages by heliograph, using a bit of broken mirror to flash the rays of the sun from hilltop to valley.
"I'm looking to see him show up any old time now," Andy replied; for he was at that moment standing with his eyes glued on the lofty crag, from which the signal-sender expected to wave his message when the time came.
"But none of us have so much as glimpsed our chum even once on his way up there," Tubby complained; "which I take it is kind of queer. Gee! I hope nothing's happened to Rob! That would be a calamity, sure!"
"Oh! don't worry about Rob," Andy cautioned him; "he knows how to look out for himself, all right. You don't find _him_ stumbling over roots and all sorts of things like--er--some of the rest of us fellows. No danger of Rob bringing up in one of those deep, dry ravines they call _arroyos_ down here in Old Mexico."
"Yes, but sometimes accidents do happen even to the smartest scouts, don't they?" the fat boy persisted in saying, as though bent on allowing his feeling of anxiety to have full sway. "Huh! haven't you ever had a limb break when you believed it to be good and strong; or a stone slip out from under your foot, throwing you on your face? Even Rob, clever as he is, might run across a piece of bad luck. Then, how d'ye know but that one or two of those greaser cavalrymen might not have been camping somewhere along the trail Rob followed, and seeing him coming, decided to lie in ambush to knock him over? Any way, I'm getting what my mother calls 'fidgetty'; and I'll be glad when it's all over."
"Well, chirk up, then, Tubby!" exclaimed Merritt just then, with a low laugh.
"Oh! did you see him, Merritt? And is that why you speak so encouragingly?" demanded the stout boy with quivering lips and a look of intense eagerness on his round face.
The corporal of the Eagles nodded his head in the affirmative.
"Yes, I'm dead sure I had a glimpse of his khaki coat close to the crag, just while you were talking in such a gloomy way; and if you wait two minutes, chances are you'll see him wave his flag to let us know he has arrived."
"Bully for you, Merritt; that's the best news I've had for a 'c.o.o.n's age.' But it is too bad we didn't think to bring a couple of mirrors along with us on this trip. Then, you know, we could have carried on our little confab by flashes of the heliograph. It's a whole lot easier than wigwag work, where your arms get so tired waving flags."
"There! See what's happened?" cried Andy suddenly.
"It's Rob, as sure as anything!" exclaimed the pleased Tubby. "He got up to that rock all right, didn't he? Watch him wave the O. K. sign, will you? And now I guess he'll take a good look around, so as to locate the enemy, and then begin to tell us what's doing."
Evidently Rob was taking advantage of his elevated position to survey the surrounding country in all directions. It would doubtless pay the besieged rebel forces to know what was going on, and if there was any hope of a.s.sistance coming to help drive the foe away.
The minutes began to drag horribly to impatient Tubby, and doubtless to the other scouts as well. They could see that Rob was turning this way and that, as though making good use of the excellent field gla.s.ses he had thought to carry with him on his ascent.
"Why doesn't he hurry and send something?" Tubby muttered for the tenth time as he walked to and fro, partly to work off his excitement, and partly to avoid the stiffness that overtook him whenever he stood still.
"Here I'm all primed up for business at the old stand, and ready to receive any message that may come. I've practiced the whole code over and over, you notice, fellers; and if I do say it myself, that shouldn't, I never felt in such good trim as right now. If only Rob would get busy and whisper something! He must have learned a heap by now. Why, it seems like half an hour since he bobbed up serenely there!"
"Less than ten minutes, Tubby, because I timed him," interposed Merritt.
"Well, long enough for him to take a squint at a whole circle and see all sorts of things," grumbled Tubby, quite disconsolate over the delay.
"If this keeps up, it's going to wear me away to a skeleton, that's what."
"No danger, Tubby, of that happening," declared Andy.
"And get busy now," added Merritt. "There comes your first signal! He is asking if you are ready to take a message. Answer him O. K., Tubby."
"Hurray! Now mebbe there won't be something doing!" exclaimed the other, aroused to a full consciousness that duty called.
Tubby in action was a sight to behold. He was so fat that, when his chubby arms got to working vigorously, he looked something like a Dutch windmill with the sails flapping furiously in a half gale.
But Tubby knew his Myers' wigwag code all right, and could receive better than nearly any fellow on the roster of the Eagle Patrol. When one masters the art of taking a message with fair speed, sending is what Tubby always called "pie." This is also the case in telegraph work. In sending, one knows in advance what is coming, and the brain can work ahead, but this is not so in receiving.
Rob made his flag do its duty with a vigor that kept both Tubby and Merritt keyed up to top notch in order to read the message, while, as the fat scout called out the letters, Andy wrote them down.
And this was what the boy on the rocky crag sent as a beginning:
"Can see enemy--number about sixty in sight--have started to turn flank, and make attack from other side--warn Lopez!"
That was alarming news, because, if the movement were undertaken without any notice to the rebel force, they would undoubtedly be caught napping; and it does not require much of a surprise to create a panic with troops who are unseasoned fighters.
"But how could they cross over to the other side of the railroad without being seen, I want to know?" Tubby asked, after the whole message had been received.
"We can't tell that from here, but you bet your boots Rob knows," Andy was quick to reply, showing what an amount of confidence the boys of the Eagle Patrol were wont to place in their recognized leader under any and all conditions.
"Yes, that's right," Merritt added. "It might be there is some gully that the road spans, which we didn't notice when making our dash here, where the Federals could dodge through without anybody being a whit the wiser. Anyway, Rob says that's what they mean to do, which settles it, Tubby."
"There, he's waving again!" called out the observant Andy. "Quick, get busy and let him know you're ready to take the next message, Tubby!"
"On deck!" chirped the receiving end of the air telegraph, which the boys often called their "wireless."
This time Rob went on a little further. Possibly he may have guessed that what he sent before was apt to mystify the boys, and wished to make it plainer. At any rate he took up the very subject they had just been discussing, as though he had some means of overhearing their little talk.
"One mile above, track pa.s.ses over a little gulch. Shallow, but deep enough to answer purpose. Can see soldiers crawling under right now.
Rocks lie beyond, and from that easy to creep close to train there. Warn Lopez, and have him tell captain of rebel forces. Get all that?"
Now came Tubby's turn.
Really, all he had to send back was the "O. K." signal, showing that he had read everything that had been sent; but, then, Tubby was a good talker, and it was hard for him to resist a golden opportunity like the present, where he could display his knowledge along the line of flirting with the flags.
So he started the wave, and in another minute was working industriously.
"Don't think we missed a single letter," he told the boy on the crag; "and you sure sent faster than ever before in your life. What are we to do if they attack the train? Ought we to join in and use our guns? We want to know, because it might be too late when you get back. Answer."
The two watching boys had started to spell out Tubby's message. Thinking it a waste of precious time at first, Merritt had even started forward to object when he caught some of the later words, and this halted him.
After all, it was not so far out of the way for Tubby to want to know what their line of conduct should be under certain conditions. They had not antic.i.p.ated anything like this when Rob left; and, as he was their leader, all orders had to come from him.
On this account, then, they waited to see what the answer would be.
Apparently Rob had made out what Tubby asked, for he at once sent another message. As the letters followed each other in quick succession, even Andy could read their import.
"Hold back all you can, unless it seems absolutely necessary to join in.
We have come down here on a peaceful errand, and don't want to side with either force more than we can help. This is a Mexican affair, and Uncle Sam is keeping his hands off. Understand?"
"What shall I tell him, Merritt?" questioned Tubby, eagerly waiting for orders, because, in the absence of the acting scout master and patrol leader, the corporal was looked upon as in charge.
"We'll try to be wise and cautious, tell Rob that," replied Merritt; "and we'll keep out of the muss till we think we've just _got_ to help, in order to save our lives. That's all, Tubby."
Accordingly, Tubby started in again, for his arm had by now rested up more or less, so that he was in condition for work. The short message was possibly strung out considerably, because Tubby realized that in all probability it would be his last chance to flirt the flag, on this occasion, at least.
Then Rob waved them good-bye, and turned as though to take one last look over the country beyond, which was hidden from the sight of the boys at the stalled train.
Tubby still remained on his feet, though casting anxious eyes toward the spot where the comfortable blanket seat had been temporarily left, while Merritt was going over the message Andy had written down, so that he could give it to Lopez accurately for transmission to the rebel captain.
The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico Part 17
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The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico Part 17 summary
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