“You tried that last night,” grinned Alex.
“Come on down here,” urged Clay. “I’d like to know what kind of a penitentiary you received your early education in.”
“You’d like to have me come down there, wouldn’t you?” sneered Max. “You think you’ve got the police on your side, don’t you? But I know a couple of detectives that will fix you, all right. You needn’t think I’m going to let you run away with my canoe.”
“How’d you get up the river so quickly?” asked Clay. “Did you dive in east of the peninsula and swim under water to Quebec?”
“Oh, I got up on a steamer, all right,” was the reply, “and I’ve been here waiting for you ever since.”
“Do you happen to have a sore head this morning?” taunted Alex. “You must have got a bump or two last night.”
“You’ll get two for every one I got,” Max shouted, angrily. “Are you going to give me that canoe? I’m going to have it, you know.”
Alex deliberately paddled the canoe over to the Rambler, secured it with a light line, climbed to the deck, and set the motors in motion. Max yelled out a few threatening sentences and disappeared.
“We may as well be going up to the old pier,” he said, “for this dandy chief of police I discovered last night will be down to see us before long. He’s a right good fellow, that chief is.”
“You better hold up a minute,” Jule announced,