The policeman went down the street, swinging his club, and the boys turned 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 we left the deck of the _Sybil_, across the river from the egg-shaped peninsula near St. Luce, we have been It. Some one has been after us night 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 the officers are the enemies of the Fontenelles or just plain river pirates seeking to seize the _Rambler_. What do you think?"

"So far as that is concerned," Clay replied, "it makes but little difference. They all give us trouble, and I propose for once that we run away from them. I'm more in love with the river than the men we're likely 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 and cut 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 sensing that he was on a crowded pavement in the heart of a big city. As he swung about, he almost b.u.mped noses with a pedestrian who, in company with another, had been walking only a couple of yards behind him.

The man was clothed in the garb of a waterside character, but it was very plain to the boy that the costume had been a.s.sumed for the purpose of disguise. His complexion was smooth and clear, his eyes keen and penetrating, and his whole manner and att.i.tude proclaimed education and native refinement. For an instant Jule and the man stood looking each other squarely in the eyes.

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

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

The man Jule was watching so closely seemed to understand that he was under suspicion, and, seizing his companion by the arm, the two pa.s.sed on together, turning their heads now and then to watch the progress of the 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 the pressure of the crowd had brought him, and Clay agreed that the man he had heard speak in a remarkably pleasant tone had not been following them 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, he looked like a banker, or a lawyer, or a preacher. And what did he have that kind of a rig on for? It's mighty funny."

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

The boys walked swiftly down the street for a couple of blocks, turned into a side thoroughfare, called a taxi, and were driven swiftly back along a parallel street for two blocks.

There they dismissed the cab, at the corner of the main street, and walked along looking for the two men they suspected of hostile intentions.

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_ and disappear. Once we get started, there isn't a boat on the river that can catch us. We'll fool these fellows for once."

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

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

The _Rambler_ had fought her way through the ca.n.a.l, and now lay only a short distance below the border of Lake St. Frances.

The boys built a roaring fire on sh.o.r.e and cooked supper there, but made no arrangements for sleeping out of doors. The blaze brought several people from a little settlement not far away, and the boys rather 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 of the 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 just this side of Lake Ontario. Is that true?"

"Yes," said the man with a smile, "and I have heard that there is a lost channel down below Quebec, too. And I read in the newspaper that you 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."

CHAPTER XIV

AN OLD FRIEND APPEARS

"How did this channel get lost?" Alex asked with a whimsical smile.

"Well," replied the other, "I don't believe there is a lost channel.

You may go down the St. Lawrence river, up one side and down the other--and I've been over every inch of it--and you can't find any place for a lost channel, unless you locate it at a headland which was once an island. In that case, there might be a lost channel. But the charts of the river for two hundred years show no such change in conformation."

"That seems to be conclusive," Clay suggested.

"Conclusive? Of course it is, but you can't make this man Fontenelle believe it. Now, look here, stranger," he went on, "I've read what the newspapers say about you, and I know that you intend to go back there and look for that lost channel. Is that right?"

"It seems to me that the newspapers are advertising us pretty thoroughly," Clay observed. "Every one seems to know all about us."

"Of course!" a.s.sented the older man. "You boys and your boat are about as well known on this river, by reputation at least, as Lawyer Martin, and he's been doing a heap of traveling up and down lately. Why, Lawyer Martin was right here the very day the Quebec newspapers printed the story that you boys were going to find the lost channel.

He read the story and jumped.

"Yes, sir! He jumped like a man going to locate an oil claim. I rowed him out to the first steamer that came along, and heard him offer the captain a big wad of money if he would gain time on the trip to Quebec."