Chapter 7 CASE HAS HIS DOUBTS

As may well be imagined, Case was waiting impatiently on board the Rambler while the events described in the last chapter were taking place in the forest. It is one thing to face a desperate situation in the company of helpful friends. It is quite another to consider a grave peril alone, especially when chums are in danger.

Several hours passed, and Case heard nothing from the wanderers in the forest. Then an unexpected visitor arrived. The boy saw an Indian canoe paddled swiftly up the river.

He had not had a good chance to observe the visitor who had cut the cable, thus bring about the meeting with the steamer people, but it was his opinion that the canoeist was none other than the boy who had given his name as Max Michel. He anxiously awaited the arrival of the craft.

"If that is Max," he thought, "he certainly has a well-developed nerve to come back to the Rambler after doing what he did."

In a short time the canoe, coming steadily upstream, touched the hull of the motor boat, and its occupant clambered alertly to the deck. Case stood for a moment regarding him with disapproval, no welcome at all in his face. The boy approached with a confident smile.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Case.

"I came," was the quick reply, "because I have news which may interest you. I know you have good reason to doubt my friendship, but I hope you will listen to me. It will be in your interest to do so."

"News of my friends?" asked Case quickly, forgetting in the impulse of the moment that the boy's information was more than likely to be misleading. "Have you seen any of the boys to-day?"

"No," was the slow reply, "but I have heard from them. They crossed the peninsula early this morning, were lured into a boat passing down a parallel stream, and must now be somewhere on or near the St. Lawrence."

"How do you know all this?" demanded Case half-angrily.

"Ever since the night I cut your cable," Max began, "I have been more than ashamed of myself. I was ordered to do the work, and believed that there was nothing else for me to do except to obey. I was not far from St. Luce yesterday when you boys went aboard the Sybil. The steamer touched at St. Luce and I afterwards heard the captain telling a friend of meeting you. Then I decided to return to you, if you were still in this vicinity."

"And so you come here and tell me a fairy tale about my chums?" Case exclaimed. "You don't expect me to believe a word you say, do you?"

"And yet it is the truth," Max insisted. "I was up this morning early, paddling across the St. Lawrence, for I knew from the Captain's conversation that you were over here. Not long ago I came upon a boat leaving the river to the west. From the man who was rowing, I learned that your friends had been attacked and captured."

Case still doubted. He did not like the look in the eyes of the boy. He remembered the treacherous act which had sent the disabled Rambler drifting down the St. Lawrence. He thought fast for a moment and then asked abruptly:

"Will you tell me what your interest is in this matter?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Why did you cut our cable?"

The boy hesitated a moment, glanced casually over the west bank of the stream and then lowered his eyes to the deck.

"I was ordered to do so," he said in a moment.

"Ordered to disable our motors and cut our cable?" demanded Case indignantly. "Don't you know that you might have been the cause of our death? Is everything you have told me to-day just as true as the fairy tales you told us that night? You may as well be frank."

Again the boy hesitated. To Case it seemed that he was listening for some sound or signal from the shore.

"Will you tell me," continued Case, "who it was that ordered you to cut our cable and disable our motors?"

The boy shook his head. His manner was now anxious and uneasy, and Case turned his own eyes toward the shore which was being watched so closely.

"I can't give you the name of my employers," the boy finally said.

"Then tell me this," insisted Case. "Why did the men who ordered you to do the work want it done?"

"I don't know," was the brief reply.

"I presume," Case went on, "that you would have destroyed the Rambler with a stick of dynamite if you had been told to do so."

"I wouldn't have committed murder," was the quick reply.

"Now let us get back to your story of to-day," Case said. "Who was it that told you of the capture of my chums?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Was it one of your employers?"

"It was not."

"Was it a man with whom you are acquainted?" asked Case.

"I never saw him until to-day," he replied.

"How did he come to speak to you of the boys at all?"

"He mentioned that he had seen three boys evidently under a restraint in a boat with three men farther up the stream."

"So the boat held three men and three boys? Anyone else?"

"He did not mention any one else."

"And the six people were the sole occupants of the boat, were they?"

"That is what the man told me."

"Before you concocted this story," Case declared scornfully, "you ought to have jogged your memory a trifle. You saw Captain Joe and Teddy on board the Rambler the night you cut our cable. Why didn't you add to your story and say that the dog and the bear were with the three boys?"

"The man I saw said nothing to me about the dog and the bear," Max insisted stubbornly. "I had only a moment's talk with him."

"And then you came directly to the Rambler to tell me of the incident?"

"I came directly to the spot where I believed the Rambler would be," was the answer. "Of course, I didn't know exactly where you were, but Captain Morgan said that when you left him it was your intention to ascend this stream. I was lucky in finding you."

"And now," Case asked, with a scornful smile on his lips, "what do you expect me to do under the circumstances? What would you advise?"

"I thought," replied Max, "that you would go down the river, and make your way to the mouth of the other stream."

"Why do your employers want me to leave my present location?" asked Case. "Do they want the boys to come out of the forest and find the Rambler gone? Is that what you were sent here for?"

"Oh, well," Max exclaimed, "if you don't believe what I say, and won't take advantage of the honest information I have given you, I may as well be on my way."

He moved toward the gunwale of the boat, as he spoke and began untying the line which held his canoe to the Rambler. Case stepped forward and laid a detaining hand on his shoulder.

"Just a moment," the boy said. "You are not going to leave the Rambler until my chums return, and perhaps not then."

"Do you mean that you intend to keep me prisoner?" flashed Max.

"That is just exactly what I mean to do," Case responded. "I don't know what your object in coming here really is, for I believe that as a prevaricator, you have Ananias backed off the board. I dislike to use the shorter and uglier word, Max, but you certainly are the greatest liar I ever came across. You'll stay here until we know more about you."

"You'd better do a little thinking before you keep me here," Max threatened. "You are making a lot of trouble for yourself."

"I'll have to risk that," Case replied. "Have you got any weapons about your person? If you have, give them up."

Max shook his head angrily.

"If I had had a weapon," he declared, "you would have known all about it the minute you laid a hand on my shoulder."

"Will you promise to remain on the boat without attempting to escape if I leave you your liberty?" Case asked.

"I will promise nothing!" was the ugly reply.

"All right," Case said.

There was a rush and a little struggle, but in the end, Max was overcome and stowed away bound hand and foot in the cabin.

Leaving his prisoner there, foaming with rage and searching a limited vocabulary for words to express his feelings, Case went out to the prow of the Rambler and sat down to think over the situation.

"That boy," he mused, "was sent here to induce me to take the Rambler out of this place. Why?"

The boy considered the problem for a long time. He was hoping that some of his chums would make their appearance. He disliked very much to take the Rambler away from the place where they had left it, and still there might be a grain of truth in what Max had said.

The day was bright and still. The deep green foliage of the forest shone and shimmered in the sun. There were birds in the air, and here and there timid creatures of the jungle came out to the stream to drink and peer with questioning eyes at the stranger who had invaded their leafy retreat. There were no signs of human life anywhere except on board the Rambler. The continued absence of the boys seemed unaccountable.

"Well," the boy decided, presently, "I'll take a chance on a visit to the St. Lawrence. It won't take long to run down, swing up to the other end of the peninsula and investigate the west stream. If the boys come back while I am gone, they'll probably hear the motors clamoring and know that I am not far away. Still, I don't think they'll come."

Case was slowly reaching the uncomfortable conclusion that the boys had, indeed, been overcome by the outlaws. In that case, his first act ought to be to secure help. If he returned to the St. Lawrence, he might meet a friendly captain who would be willing to assist him in the rescue.

So, with this idea in his mind, the boy drew up the anchor, started the motors to popping and headed the Rambler down stream. The boat proceeded at full speed, and soon the arm of the bay which closed in behind the peninsula came in view.

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."

Case was wondering if the Fontenelles had a copy of the crude map which had been so mysteriously brought to the Rambler. He was wondering, too, if it would be safe for him to tell this youthful representative of the French family all that he knew of the two communications and the attacks which had been made on the Rambler. The question was virtually settled by Fontenelle himself.

"I am told," the young man said, "that you boys were placed in peril by being mistaken for us."

"We had a scrap with river pirates, if that is what you mean," Case replied, "and Captain Morgan helped us to get away from them."

"I'm afraid," Fontenelle went on, "that the men you term 'river pirates' are pirates only for the purpose of this occasion. We have always been opposed in our quest for what father calls the lost channel."

"Opposed everywhere in your searches?" Case asked, "or opposed only when you come to this section?"

"Opposed only in this vicinity," answered Fontenelle, gazing keenly at the boy. "I see what you mean," he added. "At least, your inference is that those who are opposing us really know more about the location of the charter and the jewels than we know ourselves, and that they believe them to be here."

"That is the way it seems to me," Case answered, "still if they think they know that the property sought for is in this vicinity, their knowledge fails when they try to put their hand upon it. They can only hope for success in case of your failure, and so they oppose your every effort."

"That is the way in which we look at it," Fontenelle replied. "In fact, father is positive that the search for the charter goes steadily on in this vicinity throughout most of the year.

"Last year, we had quite a merry picnic with a scout sent up to obstruct our search, and one of our men was seriously wounded. Our enemies are certainly becoming desperate, and if, as you say, your chums appear to be lost in the forest, we ought to be getting up there to look after them. They may be sorely in need of help."

"I thank you for your offer of assistance," Case replied, "and it is my opinion that we can't get back there too quickly. Come over here and look through the cabin window," he continued, "pointing through the glass panel to where he had left Max lying bound on the bunk."

Then the look of amusement vanished from the boy's face, and he opened the door and passed quickly into the cabin. Max was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared as completely as if the hull of the Rambler had opened and dropped him into the stream. The ropes with which he had been tied lay on the floor, but the boy was gone.

The open window at the rear of the motor boat, told the story. In answer to Fontenelle's looks of inquiry, Case briefly told the story of Max's visit and capture. The young man pondered a moment and then said:

"I don't believe the boys have been captured at all. The chances are that they are still in the forest, probably looking for the boy who disappeared last night.

"This boy Max, if your description tallies with my recollection, has appeared in the game before to-day. He is a wharf rat at Quebec, and is being used by these outlaws to further their treacherous ends. I wish we had found him here."

As the boys passed out on deck, the barking of a dog came from up the river. There was no mistaking the voice. It was Captain Joe, and he was deploring the absence of his floating home. Case smiled happily at the sound, and then his face grew serious, for gunshots followed the echo of the dog's voice.