“A few years ago, there wasn’t an eddy, nor a swirl, nor an island, nor a channel, on the whole stream from Wolfe island to the waters of the Atlantic that I didn’t know all about. I’ve sailed her night and day and I could take a ship down the rapids now. Only the government won’t give me a license because I can read and write,” he added in a sarcastic tone.
“Well, Captain Joe, you’re just the identical man we’ve been looking for,” cried Clay. “Several hundred years ago an old Frenchman by the name of Cartier mislaid a channel down the river. Now we want you to help us find that channel!”
“Oh, you want to find a channel, do you?” laughed Captain Joe. “Well, now, I’ll tell you, boys, if that channel has been open at any time within the past hundred years, I can find it. Of course I wasn’t on the river as long ago as that, but my old dad was, and he taught me to read the St. Lawrence like a boy reads the stories of Captain Kidd.”
“That is fine!” the boys exclaimed in a breath.
Then Clay laughed and nudged his companions and said:
“Captain Joe, did you ever hear anybody say that this is a mighty small world? If so, do you think it’s true?”
“It is bigger than I have ever been able to get over,” replied Captain Joe, not understanding. “I’ve seen quite a lot of it, but not all.”
Then Clay told the captain of their adventures on the St. Lawrence, showing him the two mysterious communications, with the understanding that he was never to mention their existence to any one.
“And so there really is a lost channel?” asked Captain Joe.
“You bet there is! There is more than one lost channel. Go bite him doggie!”