CHAPTER XIII

  A MEETING AT MONTREAL

  As Clay was being rowed back to the _Rambler_, one of the sailorscalled his attention to three men standing on the shore of the rivernot far away from the intersecting stream. They stood looking down atthe _Rambler_ for a short time, and then disappeared around the angleof a bluff.

  "Perhaps those men want to be taken off," suggested the sailor.

  "They need their heads taken off," Clay observed. "I am certain fromwhat I overheard that one of the men was with the outlaws down thestream. They left a timber raft here, as I believe, for the solepurpose of attacking us in the night and trying to get our motor boataway from us."

  "I should imagine from the build of the boat," the other observed,"that they would have to do some pretty fast traveling if they caughtthe _Rambler_ now that she is free. She must be a speedy boat."

  "She certainly is," Clay replied. "She's built like an ocean-goingtug."

  After Clay landed on deck the boys held what they called a council ofwar. They were not exactly looking for trouble, still they did notlike the idea of sailing off upstream and leaving the outlawsunpunished.

  "They bunted into us," Alex insisted, "and we ought to do something tothem. If they take their boat and row down after the timber raft, I'dlike to follow them in the _Rambler_ and tip them over."

  The others felt in about the same way, but it was finally decided togo on up the river to Montreal, remain there for a couple of days, andso pass on to the great lakes.

  "If we can keep Alex in the boat at Montreal, we'll be doing a goodjob," Jule said. "He's been lost in about every city we've come to,and I think he ought to be locked in the cabin just as soon as wetouch the pier. It isn't safe to turn him loose at night."

  "All right," Alex agreed, "you may lock me up any old night when Iwant to sleep. That will keep me from standing guard."

  The boys anchored in a cove that night, well out of the wash ofpassing steamers, and in the middle of the following afternoon, sawthe spires of Montreal. They gazed at the great mountainous bluffwhich lies above and beyond the city with wondering eyes. Therebattles had been lost and won. The flags of France and Great Britainhad in turn floated over the city from the heights they saw.

  The boys decided that night to spend the whole of the following day inthe historic city. They came to anchor in a slip some distance fromthe town itself, and, for a wonder, passed an undisturbed night.

  Early the following morning Clay and Jule set out to view the sights,it being understood that Alex and Case were to have their freedom inthe afternoon. At first the two boys kept to the river front,examining the vessels they saw, and wondering if their fate would everlead them to all the countries the craft represented.

  As they turned away from the water front, Jule lifted his face andsniffed the air enjoyably.

  "Do you know," he said, "this is the first place I've struck forseveral days where the scent of the lost channel hasn't been in mynostrils."

  "You've got so you can smell the lost channel now, have you?" grinnedClay. "That may be a good thing for our future use."

  "I can't smell the channel," Jule replied, "but I can scent the dangerof it. Say, boy," he added, "We're going to have trouble when we goback to dig up the Fontenelle charter."

  "We came out for adventure, didn't we?" asked Clay.

  "Oh, I'm not kicking," Jule exclaimed. "If I get mine, you'll getyours, too. The only way to have any fun in this world is to go wherethe fun is. You can't meet with adventures by staying in bed at home."

  As the boys proceeded up the street, an officer in uniform standing onthe corner beckoned to them.

  "Say, boys," he said, "do you know those two men just behind you?"

  The boys turned and looked back.

  There were many moving figures and faces in the street, but none whichattracted the especial attention of the lads. They looked inquiringlyat the policeman, who stood with a puzzled expression on his face.

  "Which two men?" asked Jule.

  "Why," replied the officer, "the two men who have followed you for thelast four blocks, stopping when you stopped and going on when youadvanced. I came up the street on the other side just behind you, andcouldn't help observing what was going on."

  "Now," said Clay, turning to Jule, "what do you think about havinglost the scent of the lost channel?"

  "I begin to smell it in the air right now," was the reply.

  The policeman looked at the two boys inquiringly.

  "What do you know about the lost channel?" he asked.

  "Not a thing!" replied Jule. "There isn't any lost channel."

  "Then I've been hearing a lot about nothing lately," smiled theofficer. "Somehow, the newspapers have been full of it lately."

  "Did they say anything about that scrap we had on an island belowQuebec?" asked Case. "We haven't seen a paper lately."

  "They said something about four boys being attacked, down the river,and a great deal about a quest for a lost channel," replied thepoliceman.

  "And about a scrap in Quebec?" asked Jule.

  "Sure," said the officer. "That made half a column. Are you boys fromthe _Rambler_? If so, where is the boat?"

  "We're from the _Rambler_ all right," Clay replied, "and it looks asif some of our friends from down stream are still after us. Can youdescribe the men you saw following us? What do they look like?"

  "Just tough riverside characters," answered the officer. "That is howI came to notice them closely. Such people are rarely seen as far upin the city as this. They prefer the lower dives."

  "We had trouble with some men from a raft back here a little ways,"Jule explained, "and these may be the fellows. Anyway, we're going tolook out for ourselves and thank you very much for having called ourattention to the incident. We'll be careful."

  The policeman went down the street, swinging his club, and the boysturned and faced each other with questions in their eyes.

  "What's coming off here?" Jule asked.

  "Seems to me like a game of tag," Clay replied. "From the moment weleft the deck of the _Sybil_, across the river from the egg-shapedpeninsula near St. Luce, we have been It. Some one has been after usnight and day. Now, what are we going to do about it?"

  "I could tell you better if we knew whether the men referred to by theofficers are the enemies of the Fontenelles or just plain riverpirates seeking to seize the _Rambler_. What do you think?"

  "So far as that is concerned," Clay replied, "it makes but littledifference. They all give us trouble, and I propose for once that werun away from them. I'm more in love with the river than the men we'relikely to meet on it, so we'll get to the quiet spots."

  "Do you mean that we ought to go back to the _Rambler_ right now andcut Montreal off our visiting list?" asked Jule.

  "In my judgment, that is what we ought to do."

  Jule faced about instantly and started toward the river.

  "Come on then!" he said. "I'm game for it!"

  The boy had turned under the impulse of the moment without sensingthat he was on a crowded pavement in the heart of a big city. As heswung about, he almost bumped noses with a pedestrian who, in companywith another, had been walking only a couple of yards behind him.

  The man was clothed in the garb of a waterside character, but it wasvery plain to the boy that the costume had been assumed for thepurpose of disguise. His complexion was smooth and clear, his eyeskeen and penetrating, and his whole manner and attitude proclaimededucation and native refinement. For an instant Jule and the man stoodlooking each other squarely in the eyes.

  "Step aside, lad, step aside," said the disguised man, in a voice farfrom unpleasant. "Don't be blocking the way."

  "Is this your street?" demanded Jule willing to continue theconversation in order that he might have a more prolonged view of theman opposite him. "If it is, you better take it with you when you goon."

  The man Jule was watching so closely seemed to understand that he wasunder suspicion, and, seizing his
companion by the arm, the two passedon together, turning their heads now and then to watch the progress ofthe boys down the street.

  "Did you see that?" asked Jule as the boys stepped along.

  "Did I see what?" asked Clay. "I heard a voice, that's all!"

  "That was Sherlock Holmes in disguise. Did you catch on?"

  "Not than I am aware of!" laughed Clay. "What about it?"

  Jule explained what he had observed in the man against whom thepressure of the crowd had brought him, and Clay agreed that the man hehad heard speak in a remarkably pleasant tone had not been followingthem by accident.

  "Those two men," he said, "are the fellows the policeman referred to."

  "But why should men like those be following us?" asked Jule. "Why, helooked like a banker, or a lawyer, or a preacher. And what did he havethat kind of a rig on for? It's mighty funny."

  "You may search me," Clay answered. "The incident only confirms theopinion expressed not long ago that we ought to get out of this cityimmediately. Alex and Case can take their outing in some other town."

  The boys walked swiftly down the street for a couple of blocks, turnedinto a side thoroughfare, called a taxi, and were driven swiftly backalong a parallel street for two blocks.

  There they dismissed the cab, at the corner of the main street, andwalked along looking for the two men they suspected of hostileintentions.

  In the middle of the first block they came upon them, walking slowly,and peering to right and left, as if anxiously searching for some one.

  "That settles it!" Clay said. "We'll go back to the _Rambler_ anddisappear. Once we get started, there isn't a boat on the river thatcan catch us. We'll fool these fellows for once."

  When the story of the morning had been told to Alex and Case, theyrather wanted to remain in the city, just "to get a line on thefellows," as Alex explained, but they finally consented to animmediate departure.

  That night the _Rambler_ lay at anchor at the mouth of a small creekon the south side of the St. Lawrence river. Just above them lay awooded island, occupied at this time by a colony of vacationists.

  The _Rambler_ had fought her way through the canal, and now lay only ashort distance below the border of Lake St. Frances.

  The boys built a roaring fire on shore and cooked supper there, butmade no arrangements for sleeping out of doors. The blaze broughtseveral people from a little settlement not far away, and the boysrather enjoyed their company. After a time Clay whispered to Jule:

  "Stick your nose up in the air, kid, and see if you can get a scent ofthe lost channel in this crowd!"

  "Nothing doing!" Jule answered with a grin.

  "Now we'll see whether there is or not," Clay said.

  He turned to an elderly gentleman who sat by his side and asked:

  "I have heard that there is a lost channel on the American side justthis side of Lake Ontario. Is that true?"

  "Yes," said the man with a smile, "and I have heard that there is alost channel down below Quebec, too. And I read in the newspaper thatyou boys were in search of it. Is that so?"

  Clay faced Jule with a smile on his face.

  "Whatever we do," he said, "we can't escape the lost channel."