“Now, watch the little rat,” Alex laughed. “He’ll tie that boat up and blunder through the briers, when he might paddle up the stream close to the bank without taking any chances.”
But Jule did nothing of the kind. He kept on up the stream in the canoe. Presently he rounded a bend and disappeared from sight.
In a short time Fontenelle and his friend left the Rambler with the understanding that the two crews were to meet in the evening if the boys did not sail away in the afternoon. As a matter of fact, as the reader already knows, the boys had decided to leave before the parting took place, but they did not care to be urged to remain and join in the summer vacation picnic which was sure to follow.
They had started out for a trip covering the whole length of the St. Lawrence river from the Gulf to Lake Ontario, and were determined to cover the course before shipping their boat back to Chicago.
In less than an hour Jule was back with the rowboat, having seen nothing of the outlaws.
“They probably thought the whole Canadian navy was coming after them,” Alex said, pointing from the Rambler to the Cartier and back again. “Looks like we were coming out in force.”
In the middle of the afternoon the boys notified Fontenelle of their intention to proceed on their journey, and the Rambler passed on up the St. Lawrence.
It was a golden day in summer, the waters sparkled and danced in the sunlight, and the shipping passing to and fro on the river made a pleasant picture of marine life. The boys enjoyed the situation thoroughly.
“I have always had a longing to visit Quebec,” Clay said as the boat headed for a little cove to avoid the wash of a giant steamer, “and I propose that we spend two or three days there looking over things.”
“That suits me,” Alex cut in. “When we get there, I’ll go down on the docks and find that boy Max. And when I find him, there’ll be one wharf rat less on the docks.”