CHAPTER XXII

IN THE GLARE OF THE SEARCH-LIGHT

Now the tide is a funny thing, especially in a small suburban river.

The banks of a river being for the most part sloping, the river bed is

narrower at the bottom than at the top. You don't have to wear glasses

to see that. That is why the tide, as it recedes, runs faster and

faster; because during the last hour or two of its recession it flows

in narrower confines. This has been the settled policy of nature for

many centuries, and it was so ordered for the benefit of Pee-wee Harris.

When the Merry-go-round Island floated leisurely against the Skybrow

lawn the tide had been flowing out for about an hour. When this same

rechristened island broke loose disguised as an earthly paradise, the

tide was in a great hurry. And when the earthly paradise caught upon

the flats the little remaining water was running as if it were going to

catch a train.

Rapidly, ever so rapidly, the water slid down off the flats to join the

hurrying water in the channel. And, presto, all of a sudden there was

the Isle of Desserts high and dry surrounded by an ocean of oozy mud

while the river, narrowed to a mere brook, rushed in its channel some

fifty feet distant. And there you are.

That is why the man in the moon (who knows all about the tides) winked

at Pee-wee. At least, I suppose that is why he winked.

You could not have reached the Isle of Desserts with a boat or with

snow-shoes or with stilts or with anything except an airplane.

Swimming to it was out of the question. Shouting and screaming to it

was feasible, of course. Radio operations were conceivable. But reach

it no one could. The adventurer would have been swallowed in mud.

This safe isolation would continue for a couple of hours and then the

playful water would come rippling in again spreading a glinting

coverlet over the flats once more and lifting the island upon its

swelling bosom.

Down the narrowing river rowed our rescuing crew, and as they rowed the

river narrowed. Soon the lantern light on the island was abreast of

them, some forty or fifty feet distant.

"Hello, over there," called Warde.

"I'm pretty well," called Pee-wee.

"What are we going to do?" asked Townsend. "The tide has beat us to

it. He's safe enough."

"Oh, he couldn't be safer," said Warde. "Our name is mud. All our

rowing for nothing."

"How about the eats over there, Kid?" Warde called.

"They're all right," called Pee-wee, "only the ice cream is starting to

melt. I stuck my finger in through the ice and the cream is kind of

oozing out. Maybe I better eat it, hey? It won't hold out till the

tide comes in. I ate a sandwich and that made me thirsty and I didn't

want to be drinking the lemonade so I ate a piece of ice out of the

freezer and that made me more thirsty so I drank some lemonade anyway

and that made me hungry again and I'm going to eat a sardine sandwich

only I'm afraid that'll make me thirsty and----"

"This is horrible," said Townsend; "it's like an endless chain. Where

will the end be?"

"Do you think it would be all right for me to eat some chicken salad?"

Pee-wee shouted. "The tide won't be high enough to float this island

for two hours."

"Don't!" called Warde, stopping up his ears. "Have a heart."

"Have a what?" called Pee-wee.

"Have a doughnut," shouted Roy.

"All right," called Pee-wee. "There's some dandy cheese here in a kind

of a little jar--_yum--yum_!"

"Don't!" shrieked Warde.

"Doughnut?" called Pee-wee.

"No, I said '_don't_'," called Warde. "You'll have me eating one of

the oarlocks in a minute."

Soon a faint chugging could be heard; it ceased, presumably at the

Skybrow lawn, then started again. Nearer and nearer it came until

presently the racing boat of Dashway Speeder came to a stop alongside

them. Half a dozen girls and as many hungry male guests of the party

were in it clamoring for news.

"This is terrible!" said Minerva. "I never _dreamed_ of such a thing

as this. Why, he's _marooned_!"

"I'm all safe," shouted Pee-wee, "don't you worry."

"_Safe_! I should think he is," said Dora. "If he had the British

navy all around him he couldn't be safer."

"The world is at his feet," said Townsend.

"You mean at his mouth," said Roy.

"I never heard of such a thing in all my born days," said Margaret.

"He's cornered the food market," said another hungry guest.

"For goodness' sake turn your search-light on him, Dashway," said

Minerva, "and let's see what he looks like. This is simply _tragic_."

Dashway Speeder turned the search-light of his launch across the flats

and there amid the surrounding mud, still bubbling from the effects of

the departing tide, was presented a scene like unto a picture on a

movie screen. There, bathed in light amid the surrounding gloom, like

a film star in a disk of brightness, sat Scout Harris upon a grocery

box surrounded by fallen sandwiches and with a goodly bowl securely

held between his diminutive knees. It was a superb and mouth-watering

close-up, to use the film phrase.

"I--I might as well eat some things, hey?" the lone voyager called.

"Because it's past time for refreshments anyway and the tide won't

carry me off for more than two hours and everybody'll be going home

then and the ice cream is starting to melt, the lemon ice is getting

all soft, so will it be all right to start eating the chicken salad and

the sandwiches and things? I only kind of sort of tested them so far."

Warde Hollister stopped up his ears in an agony of torture while a

dozen famishing boys flopped this way and that in attitudes of

suffering despair.

"Yes, it will be all right," called poor Minerva in a kind of

desperation. "It's the only thing, you might as well." She seemed

resigned if not reconciled. "You might as well eat the ice cream

anyway, it will only melt."

"And the chicken salad?" called the merciless hero, "and the

sandwiches, too?"

"_Oh, this is too much_," moaned Connie Bennett.

"It isn't so much as you might think," shouted Pee-wee.

"He must be hollow from head to foot," said Margaret.

"Yes, eat everything," wailed Minerva in the final spirit of utter

resignation.

"Yum--yum," called Pee-wee. "Oh, boy, it's good."

And still the man in the moon winked down, and smiled his merry scout

smile upon Scout Harris.

Pee-wee Harris Adrift · 第 22 / 34 章