"Oh, well," Max exclaimed, "if you don't believe what I say, and won't take advantage of the honest information I have given you, I may as well be on my way."

He moved toward the gunwale of the boat, as he spoke and began untying the line which held his canoe to the _Rambler_. Case stepped forward and laid a detaining hand on his shoulder.

"Just a moment," the boy said. "You are not going to leave the _Rambler_ until my chums return, and perhaps not then."

"Do you mean that you intend to keep me prisoner?" flashed Max.

"That is just exactly what I mean to do," Case responded. "I don't know what your object in coming here really is, for I believe that as a prevaricator, you have Ananias backed off the board. I dislike to use the shorter and uglier word, Max, but you certainly are the greatest liar I ever came across. You'll stay here until we know more about you."

"You'd better do a little thinking before you keep me here," Max threatened. "You are making a lot of trouble for yourself."

"I'll have to risk that," Case replied. "Have you got any weapons about your person? If you have, give them up."

Max shook his head angrily.

"If I had had a weapon," he declared, "you would have known all about it the minute you laid a hand on my shoulder."

"Will you promise to remain on the boat without attempting to escape if I leave you your liberty?" Case asked.

"I will promise nothing!" was the ugly reply.

"All right," Case said.

There was a rush and a little struggle, but in the end, Max was overcome and stowed away bound hand and foot in the cabin.

Leaving his prisoner there, foaming with rage and searching a limited vocabulary for words to express his feelings, Case went out to the prow of the _Rambler_ and sat down to think over the situation.

"That boy," he mused, "was sent here to induce me to take the _Rambler_ out of this place. Why?"

The boy considered the problem for a long time. He was hoping that some of his chums would make their appearance. He disliked very much to take the _Rambler_ away from the place where they had left it, and still there might be a grain of truth in what Max had said.

The day was bright and still. The deep green foliage of the forest shone and shimmered in the sun. There were birds in the air, and here and there timid creatures of the jungle came out to the stream to drink and peer with questioning eyes at the stranger who had invaded their leafy retreat. There were no signs of human life anywhere except on board the _Rambler_. The continued absence of the boys seemed unaccountable.

"Well," the boy decided, presently, "I'll take a chance on a visit to the St. Lawrence. It won't take long to run down, swing up to the other end of the peninsula and investigate the west stream. If the boys come back while I am gone, they'll probably hear the motors clamoring and know that I am not far away. Still, I don't think they'll come."

Case was slowly reaching the uncomfortable conclusion that the boys had, indeed, been overcome by the outlaws. In that case, his first act ought to be to secure help. If he returned to the St. Lawrence, he might meet a friendly captain who would be willing to a.s.sist him in the rescue.

So, with this idea in his mind, the boy drew up the anchor, started the motors to popping and headed the _Rambler_ down stream. The boat proceeded at full speed, and soon the arm of the bay which closed in behind the peninsula came in view.

Anch.o.r.ed there, in a sheltered cove on the north sh.o.r.e of the river, was a trim little launch. Case could see four men moving about in the c.o.c.kpit at the rear of the little trunk cabin. He immediately directed the _Rambler_ toward the craft and hailed across the water. He was answered promptly.

"Is that the _Rambler_?" was asked.

"The _Rambler_ it is," answered Case. "Are you looking for her?"

"Not especially," was the reply. "We were told that you were here by Captain Morgan, whom we saw up the river."

"Come aboard," invited Case, and in a few moments two bright-looking young men ascended from a small boat to the deck of the _Rambler_.

"I am Joseph Fontenelle," one of the young men said, "and this is my friend, Sam Howard. We were just going up the river when we saw you coming down. Are you alone on board?"

"My friends are somewhere back in the forest," Case explained, certain that it was safe to trust the visitors. "I seem to have lost them."

"Then we have probably arrived just in time," Fontenelle went on. "As you probably know from my name, we are here on the old search for the charter. Captain Morgan, I am told, related the story to you. For myself, I have little faith in the quest, but father insists that I make a try to solve the mystery every summer. This is my third visit to what we call Cartier island. I expect to make them annually as long as father lives."

"You have no faith in the story of the lost charter and the missing family jewels?" asked Case.

"Oh, they were lost, without doubt, and possibly in this country, but there is no clew whatever to their whereabouts."

Case was wondering if the Fontenelles had a copy of the crude map which had been so mysteriously brought to the _Rambler_. He was wondering, too, if it would be safe for him to tell this youthful representative of the French family all that he knew of the two communications and the attacks which had been made on the _Rambler_.

The question was virtually settled by Fontenelle himself.

"I am told," the young man said, "that you boys were placed in peril by being mistaken for us."

"We had a sc.r.a.p with river pirates, if that is what you mean," Case replied, "and Captain Morgan helped us to get away from them."

"I'm afraid," Fontenelle went on, "that the men you term 'river pirates' are pirates only for the purpose of this occasion. We have always been opposed in our quest for what father calls the lost channel."

"Opposed everywhere in your searches?" Case asked, "or opposed only when you come to this section?"

"Opposed only in this vicinity," answered Fontenelle, gazing keenly at the boy. "I see what you mean," he added. "At least, your inference is that those who are opposing us really know more about the location of the charter and the jewels than we know ourselves, and that they believe them to be here."

"That is the way it seems to me," Case answered, "still if they think they know that the property sought for is in this vicinity, their knowledge fails when they try to put their hand upon it. They can only hope for success in case of your failure, and so they oppose your every effort."

"That is the way in which we look at it," Fontenelle replied. "In fact, father is positive that the search for the charter goes steadily on in this vicinity throughout most of the year.

"Last year, we had quite a merry picnic with a scout sent up to obstruct our search, and one of our men was seriously wounded. Our enemies are certainly becoming desperate, and if, as you say, your chums appear to be lost in the forest, we ought to be getting up there to look after them. They may be sorely in need of help."

"I thank you for your offer of a.s.sistance," Case replied, "and it is my opinion that we can't get back there too quickly. Come over here and look through the cabin window," he continued, "pointing through the gla.s.s panel to where he had left Max lying bound on the bunk."

Then the look of amus.e.m.e.nt vanished from the boy's face, and he opened the door and pa.s.sed quickly into the cabin. Max was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared as completely as if the hull of the _Rambler_ had opened and dropped him into the stream. The ropes with which he had been tied lay on the floor, but the boy was gone.

The open window at the rear of the motor boat, told the story. In answer to Fontenelle's looks of inquiry, Case briefly told the story of Max's visit and capture. The young man pondered a moment and then said:

"I don't believe the boys have been captured at all. The chances are that they are still in the forest, probably looking for the boy who disappeared last night.

"This boy Max, if your description tallies with my recollection, has appeared in the game before to-day. He is a wharf rat at Quebec, and is being used by these outlaws to further their treacherous ends. I wish we had found him here."

As the boys pa.s.sed out on deck, the barking of a dog came from up the river. There was no mistaking the voice. It was Captain Joe, and he was deploring the absence of his floating home. Case smiled happily at the sound, and then his face grew serious, for gunshots followed the echo of the dog's voice.

CHAPTER VIII

THE DISCOVERY OF MAX