Once there, they tied it to a strong line and fastened the line to the _Rambler_. The further work of cutting out the wood could, they planned, be done at any time. Clay was not quite certain that the cedar was in good condition, for the fire had done quick work. He had read that Indians, when they resorted to making this kind of canoes, usually required three or four days in which to hollow out a large log.
When Clay got back on the _Rambler_, he went straight to the cabin and began another hunt for the films. He had always believed that the disappearance of the pictures had been accidental, but now he wanted to make sure that they were not in the cabin.
Somehow, the lost photographs were associated in his mind with the men who, he imagined, had seen the pictures taken. The man he had seen in the canyon was one of these.
While he hunted in every conceivable and inconceivable place, Alex came in and closed the door behind him. The rabbit stew was simmering on the heater and coffee was bubbling on the electric stove. Alex busied himself about the latter, as if to account for his being there with the door closed, and looked at Clay with wise eyes.
“I know why you want to get away from here right quick,” he said. “I know about the man you saw in the canyon. He was there when I went in after the rabbit, and there was some one with him. Now, who do think it was? Give you three guesses.
“Give it up?” he went on. “Well, it was Mr. Chester W. Granville!”
“It doesn’t seem possible!” Clay exclaimed. “What could have Gran been doing there? Could you hear what they were saying?”
“Not a word,” was the reply; “they talked in low tones.”
“Well, he left the boat, alone, just after I did. I saw him go across the plank and pass into the canyon. Then he turned in another direction.”
“He was back in the boat when you returned with the rabbit?” asked Clay. “Of course, he must have been. Well, then, he had very little time to visit with that fellow. It is a queer proposition.”
“I should say so!” Alex agreed. “Are you going to say anything to him about it—let him know that we are wise to his doings?”
“I think not,” was the slow reply. “If there is something between the boy and these men, the way to find out what it is, is to keep still and sleep with our eyes open. Strange that we should have a mysterious passenger on this voyage as well as on the one up the Amazon!”