George drew Jack aside as the others were arranging things aboard the various boats.
“I’ve been making a few inquiries as to whether another small motor boat went through here,” he remarked.
“Oh! yes, I’d come near forgetting Clarence,” laughed Jack. “And I suppose he took the canal several days ago. He must have gained on us while we were losing time, stuck in the mud, stormbound and such things.”
“Well, he didn’t go through here, anyhow,” replied George. “And the chances are ten to one he’d never think of using the Canadian locks.”
“But he had a good start of us,” remarked his chum.
“Well, do you think the Wireless is bound to monopolize all the mud in the St. Mary’s river?” exclaimed George, indignantly. “I guess Clarence has stuck somewhere on the way up; and as he didn’t have any bully chums to pull him off he’s there yet!”
“We didn’t see anything of him,” mused Jack; “but then, there were lots of times when we had a choice of channels. Even the big boats take one of two that are buoyed and targeted. Yes, Clarence might have chosen one we let alone. But of course, if he hasn’t passed through the canal, he must still be below.”
“I’m sorry,” George remarked, gloomily.
“I suppose so, because you’re only thinking of that grand race you expected to pull off with your old rival, sooner or later. But the less I see of Clarence the better I’m pleased.”
“Do we go ashore to a restaurant tonight, Jack?” continued the other.