Anchored there, in a sheltered cove on the north shore of the river, was a trim little launch. Case could see four men moving about in the cockpit 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.”