"When you get a hold of a nice, choice mess of boys, like the _Rambler_ crew, you want to give them plenty of room and fresh air.

They'll come out all right!"

"You do, at any rate," admitted the captain. "Let's see," he added, "what was it you were going to find when I left you? A lost channel or something like that? You didn't find it, did you?"

"We found a sc.r.a.p, and a lot of ruffians, and a friend," Clay replied, "and that's all we did find, but we haven't given it up."

"And that's all you ever will find," declared the captain. "There may be a lost channel somewhere in the world. In fact, there is one on the New York side up near the big lake, but I'm afraid you are wasting your time. Why don't you come on down the river with me?"

"That would never do," Clay replied. "When we left the delta of the Mississippi, we promised ourselves that we would look over every inch of the St. Lawrence, and we're going to do it. We're going to Lake Ontario and then back to find the lost channel. And after that, we're going to return to Ogdensburg and ship the _Rambler_ to little old Chicago. That is, unless we decide to sail up the lakes."

"Well, good luck to you," said Captain Morgan, as Clay pa.s.sed down the side of the _Sybil_. "If I get tangled up with a lost channel anywhere, I'll send it to you by parcel post. Why, you boys can make a lost channel easier than you can find one."

"But it wouldn't be half so much fun," Clay said, stepping into the rowboat. "We're having lots of sport on the St. Lawrence all the same!"

CHAPTER XIII

A MEETING AT MONTREAL

As Clay was being rowed back to the _Rambler_, one of the sailors called his attention to three men standing on the sh.o.r.e of the river not far away from the intersecting stream. They stood looking down at the _Rambler_ for a short time, and then disappeared around the angle of a bluff.

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

"They need their heads taken off," Clay observed. "I am certain from what I overheard that one of the men was with the outlaws down the stream. They left a timber raft here, as I believe, for the sole purpose of attacking us in the night and trying to get our motor boat away 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 caught the _Rambler_ now that she is free. She must be a speedy boat."

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

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

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

The others felt in about the same way, but it was finally decided to go on up the river to Montreal, remain there for a couple of days, and so pa.s.s on to the great lakes.

"If we can keep Alex in the boat at Montreal, we'll be doing a good job," 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 we touch 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 I want to sleep. That will keep me from standing guard."

The boys anch.o.r.ed in a cove that night, well out of the wash of pa.s.sing steamers, and in the middle of the following afternoon, saw the spires of Montreal. They gazed at the great mountainous bluff which lies above and beyond the city with wondering eyes. There battles had been lost and won. The flags of France and Great Britain had in turn floated over the city from the heights they saw.

The boys decided that night to spend the whole of the following day in the historic city. They came to anchor in a slip some distance from the town itself, and, for a wonder, pa.s.sed 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 in the afternoon. At first the two boys kept to the river front, examining the vessels they saw, and wondering if their fate would ever lead them to all the countries the craft represented.

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

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

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

"I can't smell the channel," Jule replied, "but I can scent the danger of it. Say, boy," he added, "We're going to have trouble when we go back 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 get yours, too. The only way to have any fun in this world is to go where the 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 on the 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 which attracted the especial attention of the lads. They looked inquiringly at 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 the last four blocks, stopping when you stopped and going on when you advanced. I came up the street on the other side just behind you, and couldn't help observing what was going on."

"Now," said Clay, turning to Jule, "what do you think about having lost 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 the officer. "Somehow, the newspapers have been full of it lately."

"Did they say anything about that sc.r.a.p we had on an island below Quebec?" 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 the policeman.

"And about a sc.r.a.p in Quebec?" asked Jule.

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

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

"Just tough riverside characters," answered the officer. "That is how I came to notice them closely. Such people are rarely seen as far up in 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 to look out for ourselves and thank you very much for having called our attention to the incident. We'll be careful."