"First, then," said Garry, "how far is the boundary line at a point just back of Green's farm, and how dense is the woodland there, Mr. Everett?"
"Why, as the crow flies, it is about three miles, maybe a little less. And as for the woodage, it is quite sparse. You see the logging operations extended that way, and they very nearly clean cut that land. There are, however, a few big trees scattered here and there. On the other side of the border, the forest gets considerable thicker."
"Fine, I see a way very clearly now," said Garry. "Sometime today, LeBlanc and Green, with the other two men, whose names I do not know, will cross the border, for they are due to return tonight with furs. Dick, Phil and I will estimate as near as we can the point on the line at the back of Green's farm. Then we will take positions about a sixteenth of a mile apart, perhaps a little more. We can mount one of the taller trees, and with our glasses can keep a sharp lookout for the point where they cross the line. It is likely that from force of habit they will take the same route going as returning. That will allow us to cover a quarter of a mile, counting in what we can see without glasses on either side. Then on Saturday we can repeat the operation, if necessary, thus getting a double check on the route. We know how to get our bearings and mark the trail so that we can find it again, even in the dark."
"That's the ticket. That will be your work for today then, while I go up the line and arrange for a posse of Customs men and deputies to effect the capture of Sunday night," said Fernald.
They could detect the welcome smell of boiling coffee and bacon and eggs, and at that moment Ruth called them to breakfast.
CHAPTER XIX.
SMUGGLERS' LANE.
"Shall we give you a lift downstairs, Mr. Everett?" asked Garry.
"Say, do you fellows take me for a confounded child?" snorted Mr. Everett. "Just because I get bruised up a little is no sign that I'm a helpless invalid. I'll go downstairs by the help of myself and no one else."