THE DISCOVERY OF MAX
Case hastened to put the _Rambler_ under motion, and, with Fontenelle
and Howard still on board, headed her into the current. At a signal
from Fontenelle, the launch _Cartier_ drew up her anchor and followed.
To Captain Joe's vicious barking was now added the surly voice of the
bear cub, so the boys knew that the animals were not far away. In
fact, as they paused to investigate the ugly nose of the bulldog was
pushed through the curtain of shrubbery at the edge of the stream, and
Teddy leaped snarling into the water.
Fontenelle greeted the approach of the animals to the boat with shouts
of laughter. Even in their haste to reach the boat, the animals could
not avoid snapping and striking at each other, playfully. No more
shots were heard, but presently a great tramping in the undergrowth
came at the point where Joe and Teddy had made their appearance,
indicating human presence there. All on board the _Rambler_ anxiously
awaited the appearance of those who were struggling in the jungle.
"Would the menagerie run away and leave the boys in captivity?" asked
Fontenelle, as the bulldog and the bear cub were assisted, streaming,
to the deck. "They seem to have had a long run."
"Indeed, they would not," replied Case. "If Clay and the others were
tied up in the woods, Captain Joe and Teddy would be there with them.
No, it is my opinion that it is Alex making all that racket in the
brush. He's a noisy little chap, and particularly troublesome when
hungry."
The next moment proved Case's reasoning to be correct, for the
undergrowth parted again and the three boys appeared on the bank.
"Ship ahoy!" Alex shouted, wrinkling his freckled nose. "Do you want
to take on passengers?"
"I hope," Case called back, "that you fellows haven't gone and lost
the rowboat. And where is the two-foot fish you were going to bring
for breakfast? I don't see it anywhere."
"Well," Jule called out, as the _Rambler_ edged toward the bank, "if
we have lost a boat, you seem to have found one."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Case.
Jule pointed, and Case went to the gunwale of the _Rambler_ and looked
down upon the fragile canoe in which Max had paddled up the river.
"I didn't know that we were towing it," he said, "but its presence
here accounts for Max getting away without being seen or heard. He
never stopped to get his boat, and may be swimming under water yet,
for all I know. I hope he's clear down at the bottom."
"No danger of one of those wharf rats getting drowned," Fontenelle
laughed. "I have seen them remain under water for what seemed to me to
be five minutes, and Max is some riverside boy."
"Shoot the canoe over," cried Clay, "and we'll come aboard."
"Where's your boat?" demanded Case.
"Well, you see," explained Clay, "when we missed the _Rambler_, we
started for the St. Lawrence by the water route, but when ruffians on
the bank began shooting, we tied up the boat and took to the thicket."
Case released the line and sent the light canoe spinning over the
surface of the river. Clay caught the rope deftly and one by one the
boys paddled over to the motor boat. Alex threw himself down on the
deck and gazed imploringly up at Case.
"I expected," he said whimsically, "that you'd welcome me on the bank
of the river with a pie!"
"The next time you get us into trouble," Case laughed, "I'll meet you
on the bank of the river with a club."
The three boys were presented to Fontenelle and Howard and then
preparations for breakfast were begun.
"Alex got taken prisoner up in the woods," Jule grinned. "We cut him
loose and tied up the cook. We were thinking of getting breakfast
there, but we preferred fish and pancakes to lead and gunpowder, so we
made a run for the boat."
"Is the cook tied up yet?" asked Case.
"I reckon they cut him loose in about ten minutes," Alex replied, "for
they seemed to be about three steps behind us all the way to the
river, but they didn't catch us."
"Do you think we would better go back after the rowboat?" Case asked,
as the boys sat down to a breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes, beans
and hot coffee. "We ought not to loose it."
"Look here," Jule said. "We've been sowing rowboats over the world for
a year or two. We lost two on the Amazon, one on the Columbia, two on
the Colorado and had three smashed on the Mississippi. Now, I think
we'd better go back and get this boat."
"All right," Alex grinned. "You go on back and get it."
"Well, don't you ever think I can't," Jule replied. "I can sneak up
there and swipe that boat from under their noses. But you needn't
think I'm going to set out as long as there is anything here to eat."
While the boys took breakfast, the situation as explained to Case by
Fontenelle was described to them, and after a time Case beckoned Clay
away to a corner of the cabin and asked him a question over which he
had been puzzling ever since the arrival of Fontenelle.
"Now you understand the situation," Case said, "and I want you to
answer this question right off the handle. I've decided it half a
dozen ways, but I have been fortunate enough so far to keep my mouth
shut."
"What is the question?" asked Clay.
"Wait," Case said. "I'll make a little explanation first. These
Fontenelle people have only the legend of the lost channel and the
loss of the charter and the family jewels in this section. They
haven't a single clew which tells them to look in any special spot
first.
"So far as I can make out, young Fontenelle and his friends come down
here every summer, in answer to the demands of the elder Fontenelle,
for a sort of a vacation. So far as I can make out, they have never
honestly searched for the lost channel. In fact, the young man has
doubts of its existence. Now, what I want to know is this."
"Why didn't you say so before?" asked Clay with a smile. "I know what
your question is. You want to know if we ought to show Fontenelle the
map which was brought to the _Rambler_ so mysteriously."
"Aw, of course, you could guess it after I had stated the case fully,"
Case declared. "But you haven't told me what you think about it. Ought
we to give Fontenelle the map?"
"Well," Clay answered, cautiously, "the map doesn't belong to us. It
wasn't intended for us. It was handed to us by a man who evidently
believed that he was turning it over to Fontenelle."
"Yes," Case said, "it does look as if the map belongs to Fontenelle,
but look here! He doesn't believe in this search. It is my idea that
he doesn't even care whether he secures the lost property or not. He
won't consider the matter seriously if we give it to him. He'll just
laugh and poke it away among a lot of old papers and that will be the
end of it."
"You are undoubtedly right," Clay answered.
"Now," Case went on, "we've had enough trouble with these outlaws to
arouse my fighting blood. Besides, I'd like to have a look at that
lost channel. Lost channels appeal to me, you know! I'd give a lot to
find it. Why not keep the map and go on with the search?"
"But the other fellows would be searching, too, and the whole event
would deteriorate into a big summer outing," Clay insisted.
"All right, then," Case suggested. "Suppose we go on up the river to
Quebec, and Montreal, and the Thousand Islands, and then come back
after these fellows have gone home, and find that channel."
"That listens pretty good to me," Clay answered. "I am willing to go
on at once if it is a sure thing that we come back, but I don't want
to sneak away from these fellows after they have started the fight."
"That shows courage, all right enough," Case added, "but I'd rather
hunt for this lost channel with these toughs on the wharf at Quebec,
and," he added, more seriously, "that's where I think they'll be by
the time we get back here. They won't stay here long after Fontenelle
goes away."
"Very well," Clay replied, "if Jule and Alex are willing, we'll be on
our way this afternoon."
This understanding having been reached, the two boys went back to
their guests, while Jule went ashore in the canoe.
"Now, watch the little rat," Alex laughed. "He'll tie that boat up and
blunder through the briers, when he might paddle up the stream close
to the bank without taking any chances."
But Jule did nothing of the kind. He kept on up the stream in the
canoe. Presently he rounded a bend and disappeared from sight.
In a short time Fontenelle and his friend left the _Rambler_ with the
understanding that the two crews were to meet in the evening if the
boys did not sail away in the afternoon. As a matter of fact, as the
reader already knows, the boys had decided to leave before the parting
took place, but they did not care to be urged to remain and join in
the summer vacation picnic which was sure to follow.
They had started out for a trip covering the whole length of the St.
Lawrence river from the Gulf to Lake Ontario, and were determined to
cover the course before shipping their boat back to Chicago.
In less than an hour Jule was back with the rowboat, having seen
nothing of the outlaws.
"They probably thought the whole Canadian navy was coming after them,"
Alex said, pointing from the _Rambler_ to the _Cartier_ and back
again. "Looks like we were coming out in force."
In the middle of the afternoon the boys notified Fontenelle of their
intention to proceed on their journey, and the _Rambler_ passed on up
the St. Lawrence.
It was a golden day in summer, the waters sparkled and danced in the
sunlight, and the shipping passing to and fro on the river made a
pleasant picture of marine life. The boys enjoyed the situation
thoroughly.
"I have always had a longing to visit Quebec," Clay said as the boat
headed for a little cove to avoid the wash of a giant steamer, "and I
propose that we spend two or three days there looking over things."
"That suits me," Alex cut in. "When we get there, I'll go down on the
docks and find that boy Max. And when I find him, there'll be one
wharf rat less on the docks."
"You better keep away from the docks," warned Case. "You'd get lost on
South Clark street between any two blocks you could name."
"Well, I always find myself again," Alex declared.
"Yes, you do," Case jeered. "The last time you got lost, it took two
boys and a bear and a bulldog to find you. And I don't think you are
worth the trouble at that!"
The boys immediately had a friendly struggle on the deck, in which
Teddy and Captain Joe promptly mixed.
That night the boys arranged for another campfire on the north bank of
the St. Lawrence. They put up their hammocks, anchored the boat close
inshore, and prepared for a long sleep.
"If there isn't any lost channels or charters from French kings or
strayed family jewels hiding about here," Jule commented, "we'll
certainly enjoy ourselves in this camp."
Nothing came to disturb them during the night. They watched the
procession of craft of all descriptions on the river until nine
o'clock, then went to sleep with a danger signal swinging from the
prow of the _Rambler_. They were early astir in the morning and on
their way upstream.
There was no need of haste, yet the boys seemed to enjoy themselves
most when the boat was in motion, so they plowed slowly up the river
until night, enjoying the wild scenery and stopping now and then at a
little settlement. That was the first of many days of uninterrupted
pleasure on the most extensive water system of the North American
continent.
On the second night, they made another camp with only Captain Joe and
Teddy standing guard. Alex was out after fish early in the morning,
and at six o'clock he served one of his long-wished for fish a la
Indian breakfasts.
Just before nightfall, they came within sight of Quebec and moored at
a pier a short distance down the river.
"Now," laughed Case, "if any treasure seekers or outlaws or river
pirates appear to us during the night, we'll call the police. We've
had trouble enough for one trip."
"I'm going to sleep ten hours every night until we get to the Thousand
Islands," declared Jule. "I'm hungry and sleepy most of the time."
"And we'll come back down the rapids, won't we?" asked Alex.
"You bet we will," replied Clay. "We'll come down like a shot."
"We'll need to," Jule suggested, "because we'll lose time in the canal
going up."
There was no open campfire or swinging hammocks for the boys that
night. The city of Quebec twinkled its myriad lights from plateau and
cliff, and the boys were not sure of whom they might meet during the
dark hours. They cooked their supper early in order to make an evening
trip in the lower part of the city.
"I wonder," Case said, as, leaving Jule and Clay on board, he started
away with Alex, "what the man who delivered the map to us is thinking
about concerning his mistake now. He might have been paid to deliver
that document to Fontenelle, and the error may make him trouble."
"And I was just thinking," Alex put in, "what the fellows who
delivered the warning to us are thinking concerning themselves. They
wasted a lot of ammunition and lost a good many hours' sleep on our
account."
"Perhaps we'll find out all about it when we go back to find the lost
channel," Case suggested. "Do you know," he added, "I'm looking
forward to that lost channel stunt with a good deal of enthusiasm."
"Do you really think there's a lost channel there?" asked Alex.
"There is something in it," Case asserted. "Men don't draw maps
entirely on imagination."
"Then why don't the men who drew the map go and tell Fontenelle all
about it?"
"He tried to tell him all about it when he delivered the map to us,
but as you know, the map reached the wrong hands."
The boys walked the streets, comparing them unfavorably with those of
Chicago, until nearly ten o'clock and then turned to go to the boat.
When they came to the river front again, Alex stopped suddenly and
caught Case by the arm.
"Look there," he whispered, "What do you know about that?"
"About what?" asked Case, puzzled.
"Don't you see him down there at the head of the pier?" asked Alex,
nodding his head in that direction.
"I guess you're the boy that's got loose packing in his head
to-night," laughed Case. "What do you see?"
"What do I see?" repeated Alex. "That's Max, the wharf rat, the cable
cutter, the motor destroyer. Shall we go and get him?"
"Go and get him?" repeated Case. "He'd have a flock of wharf rats
around us in about two minutes."
"Well," Alex insisted, "we'd better stay here and see where he goes,
anyway. If we can locate the fellow now, we can go after him any
time."
"Then I guess we can go after him any time," Case chuckled, "because
he's heading for that eating house with the tin fish sign in front of
it."
"Then here we go for the tin fish," Alex declared, and in five
minutes, they were seated at a little table in an alcove separated
only by a heavy cloth curtain from the main room of a third-rate
French restaurant.
When a waiter appeared they gave their orders and sat watching the
main room through the folds of the curtain.
"There!" Alex finally said in a whisper. "He's coming in."
"Yes," grunted Case, "and he's got a dozen wharf rats with him. I
guess they've got us in as neat a trap as one boy ever set for
another!"