“Where’s your boat?” demanded Case.
“Well, you see,” explained Clay, “when we missed the Rambler, we started for the St. Lawrence by the water route, but when ruffians on the bank began shooting, we tied up the boat and took to the thicket.”
Case released the line and sent the light canoe spinning over the surface of the river. Clay caught the rope deftly and one by one the boys paddled over to the motor boat. Alex threw himself down on the deck and gazed imploringly up at Case.
“I expected,” he said whimsically, “that you’d welcome me on the bank of the river with a pie!”
“The next time you get us into trouble,” Case laughed, “I’ll meet you on the bank of the river with a club.”
The three boys were presented to Fontenelle and Howard and then preparations for breakfast were begun.
“Alex got taken prisoner up in the woods,” Jule grinned. “We cut him loose and tied up the cook. We were thinking of getting breakfast there, but we preferred fish and pancakes to lead and gunpowder, so we made a run for the boat.”
“Is the cook tied up yet?” asked Case.
“I reckon they cut him loose in about ten minutes,” Alex replied, “for they seemed to be about three steps behind us all the way to the river, but they didn’t catch us.”
“Do you think we would better go back after the rowboat?” Case asked, as the boys sat down to a breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes, beans and hot coffee. “We ought not to loose it.”