“Yes. Those brats on their River Swallow can tell you how he came there. As for me, all I know about the little whelp is that he was blown ashore on the island one night in a storm. He sought shelter in the windmill tower and overheard us while we were discussing our plans. It did not suit our policy to let him go and blab all he knew to the outside world, so we kept him there until that explosion resulted in Stetson and the other pups taking him away.”
“Oh, thank heaven, Jimmie is found!” exclaimed the old man.
“I guess you won’t enjoy each other’s company long,” sneered Rawson. “The kid’s going to die.”
But Jimmie didn’t die. In fact he soon recovered, and is now in the employ of Mr. Stetson. The railroad king arrived home from Montreal in time to see the rascals who had placed him in such an embarrassing dilemma in Montreal, arraigned in the police court at Piquetville and held for the United States authorities. All received terms in the Federal prison and took their sentences according to their dispositions. Hansen was never heard of again, and as he was only a pawn in the great gem smuggling game, he was not sought after.
Mr. Stetson received a handsome apology from the Canadian government for its embarrassing mistake. He has had it framed, and it hangs in his library, where he shows it to visitors as a great joke. Naturally, this leads to a recital of the part that Ralph and his chums played in breaking up the gem smuggling gang on the Canadian line.
Old man Whey is happy on his island, and Mr. Stetson has seen to it that he has everything he desires. Windmill Island was purchased by a wealthy New Yorker not long after the events we have described, and turned into a handsome summer home. The old tower, the scene of so many lawless scenes, is now a lighthouse, and thus good has come out of evil.
The Border Boys have once more proved their right to the title by the stirring times in which they participated along the Canadian frontier. It is not likely that they will ever forget a single detail of their experiences on the mighty St. Lawrence. Harry no longer believes in the supernatural. That night when the gang met its fate laid the “ghost” of superstition for once and all in his mind.
And now, having brought our tale to a conclusion, we will bid God-speed to the Border Boys. Wishing them well in all they may undertake in the future, and a happy issue to all the adventures which such enterprising young spirits are likely to encounter, we will bring this latest volume of their experiences to a close.
THE END.