, but as soon as I
can bring it about it will be closed, and then I hope never to see or
hear of Paul Bowman as long as I live."

"I shall get to work to-morrow," said Fred. "I think it will be best
for me not to call here till the day after. We must not appear to be
too intimate."

When Fred returned to the hotel he found Bowman just arrived.

"Where have you been all the afternoon?" asked Bowman.

"Part of the time I spent with your friend, Mr. Sinclair."

"What did he find to talk about?" asked Bowman, eying Fred sharply.

"Chiefly about New York and his health. He doesn't seem contented
here."

"No wonder. It's the dullest hole I was ever in. Is he any better?"

"He thinks so."

"I wish he'd get well quick. I want to go to some larger place."

"I suppose Montreal is a more interesting town."

"Yes, there is something going on there. We were fools to leave it."

After supper Fred played a few games of billiards with Bowman.
Evidently he was not suspected as yet.

CHAPTER XXXII.

FINDING A CLEW.

The object which Fred had in view now, was to ascertain where Bowman
had hidden the securities taken from the trunk in Sinclair's cottage.
Precisely how to set about it he did not know. He had never had any
experience in detective work, and had only his native shrewdness to
depend upon.

It occurred to him, however, that Bowman would be likely from time to
time to visit the place where he had secreted the bonds in order to
make sure that they were safe. This he was hardly likely to do when in
Fred's company, but only when alone. When, therefore, he should see
Bowman starting off on a solitary expedition he decided if possible to
follow him.

"Do you feel like going out on the river this morning?" asked Bowman,
as they rose from breakfast.

"I don't mind. It will help to fill up the time."

For many years such an open winter had not been known. The unusual
warmth had left the lake as free from ice as in the early fall. But for
a slight covering of snow there would have been nothing to indicate
that it was winter.

"Your vacation is likely to be a slow one here," suggested Bowman.

"Yes; St. Victor isn't a very lively place."

"I wonder you are willing to stay here," said Bowman, with momentary
suspicion.

"I have so much excitement in New York and in my daily rides on the
Erie road, that I don't mind the dulness as much as many would. Still
if you and Mr. Sinclair were not here, I should cu