THE RACE
The canoe race, which was the first of the events, was also the
best--as well as the last. Never was there wilder excitement on
Pee-wee's island than when the green and red canoes glided northward,
approaching the turning point.
The red canoe skilfully paddled by the Edgemere champion, Willie
Dawdle, was some yards ahead and gaining rapidly and the girls from Edgemere
High School could not contain themselves for joy. Among the Alligator
Patrol, too, the excitement ran high and shout upon shout for
Bridgeboro arose as Wingate Chase spurted to get the inner turn about
the island. He gained fast now and as the distance between the two
canoes shortened the air was rent with deafening yells for Bridgeboro.
The two contestants were abreast when suddenly amid the uproar could be
heard a voice, a voice singularly matter-of-fact and sensible, uttering
words which if not of excitement seemed at least pertinent to the
occasion, "How are they going to go around that blamed thing when it's
sailing up the river?"
Alas, it was too true. The most unusual development which could
possibly complicate an athletic event had occurred; the turning point
had deserted the race and was sailing majestically up the river. It
had already sailed a hundred feet or so before the watchers on the
mainland discovered the fact.
As for the striving contestants they were too intent upon the race to
perceive the strange turn of affairs until the wild mirth upon the
"mainland" apprised them of it. They must have looked funny enough
from the shore frantically pursuing the fugitive turning post, and the
unhallowed joy of the spectators was only increased by Pee-wee's heroic
efforts in the emergency as with a long pole he strove to stay the
progress of the recreant island. Failing in these herculean efforts,
he still tried to save the day by shouting to the racers.
"_Keep up_! _Keep up_!" he yelled. "You can go around it. You're
going faster than the island is. _Don't give up_! It makes it all the
more exciting. It's like--like--like--kind of--like running up an
escalator! Don't stop! Keep it up, it's an escalator race!"
It certainly made it "all the more exciting." As for the inhabitants
of the island, they were carried away in more than one sense. Townsend
lay flat upon the ground in a spasm of silent laughter. Several others
of the new Alligator Patrol sat on the edge of the stern and rock-bound
coast, their legs dangling in the water, and seemed in danger of
falling in, so gymnastic was their merriment. As for the occupants of
the grandstand, they probably thought (if they were able to think at
all) that ten cents was a small price to pay for such an exciting race.
Only one occupant of the fleeing island was up and about and fully
conscious. With his companions lying flat or doubled up and screaming
so that the woods along shore echoed with their insane mirth, our hero
stood amid the chaos, shouting to the racers at the top of his voice.
They were almost abreast of him now, and laughing themselves, for the
race had become a farce.
"Come on! Keep it up!" he shouted. "You can go around it while it's
sailing just as good as if it were standing still! The race kind of
stretches out like an elastic--it's an extensible race. Keep it up!
Keep it up!"
"Don't," moaned Townsend from his place on the ground. "This is too
much----"
"It isn't enough!" Pee-wee shouted. "The race is better because it's
longer--it stretches out--it's an extensible race--I invented it----"
"What on earth is the cause of it?" laughed one of the girls.
"Extra--extra--ex--ex--ex--extra high tide caused by the r--r--rain,"
shrieked Townsend, hardly able to get the words out. "This is the
cli--cli--climax of Eas--Eas--Easter vac--c--c--c--c--_cation_!"
Amid screams and catcalls from the shore an official launch came
chugging up the course. By that time the two canoeists had given
themselves up to laughter and sat shaking as their canoes drifted.
Only the island continued merrily upon the flood tide.
"Called off?" somebody called from the shore.
"Certainly it's called off," said the official in the launch. "This
was supposed to be a race, not a game of tag."
"_Come on_! _Come on_!" screamed Pee-wee from the departing isle.
"Hurrah for Bridgeboro High! Come on, you can go around us! If a man
can--listen, I've got a dandy argument--if a man can shoot a bird on
the wing a race like that is just as good--you can encircle an island
on the wing too! _Come on_! _Come on_! It's a new kind of a race! A
lot of girls paid ten cents to see it! Come on, go around us!"
"Oh, _gracious, goodness_, we've had our money's worth," moaned one of
the girls; "we're not complaining."
"It's like a movie play," screamed another.
"It's a very move--m--moving drama," stammered Townsend.
"And all for ten cents," said one of the girls.
"They're not coming!" Pee-wee shouted. "We won the race! We weren't
in it but we won it anyway. That feller in the launch is crazy! It
was a chase and a race all in one--it was a chase race--I invented it
and he went and spoiled it all."
Time and tide wait for no man. Up the swelling river, out of the voice
range of the hooting throng, farther and still farther from the madding
crowd, sailed Turning Post Island, alias Merry-go-round Island, alias
Isle of Desserts, alias Alligator Isle, alias The Earthly Paradise.
Other motor-boats, manned by astonished officials and bearing
committees, chugged up to where the island had been and a flotilla of
rowboats and canoes hovered thereabouts while their occupants inspected
curiously the place where the official turning point with its crowded
grandstand had been. But the official turning point had vanished,
though the voice of our hero could still be heard up beyond Collison's
bend.
And still Townsend Ripley lay prone and laughed and laughed and laughed.
"Your money will be refunded, of course," he managed to say to the
several occupants of the grandstand. "You see we had a heavy rain all
night and----"
"Oh, don't _speak_ of returning our money," one of the girls laughed.
"We really ought to pay you _more_."
"We can't take any more," Pee-wee shouted. "You--you get the ride for
nothing--it's thrown in--because I said free transportation and a scout
has to keep his word. Even if we float miles and miles we can't take
another cent----"
"We may be rovers but we're not profiteers," moaned Townsend.
"If--if we don't drift to shore by supper time," said Pee-wee, "you get
your dinner too just like when an ocean steamer is delayed in a fog;
they give you your dinner, so don't you worry because you're with
scouts and when it gets to be six o'clock I'll make a hunter's stew."
At this there was a sudden noise as of horror and anguish and before
our voyagers realized what was happening, Townsend Ripley had rolled
off the island into the water.