agged the muddy pole across the grass, the island turned
slowly cornerwise to the shore.

In his preoccupation, Pee-wee did not notice this. He tied his
fishline to the end of the pole, bent another pin and provisioned it
with a stuffed olive, requisitioned from a cutglass dish nearby. How
he intended to support this lengthy pole so that its end might reach
the neighborhood of the coy eels is not a part of this narrative for
Pee-wee's angling enterprise never reached that point.

He was presently startled by a splash and looking around he saw that
the end of the scaffold had slipped off the island. He was now aroused
to the imminent peril of the Isle of Desserts and to the terrible
responsibility which fell to the clothesline and the bushes.

As the island turned slowly outward the clothes-line strained but held
fast. But the rhododendron bushes had not the same heroic quality.
For a few moments they resisted, but the island, now at the mercy of
the ebb, tugged and tugged, and presently a mass of bush gave up the
struggle and came away, rope and all. The earthly paradise with its
luscious store of cake and chicken salad, its commanding pyramid of
sandwiches flanked by icing cakes, its plates of dates and olives and
candy of every variety, its mound of jellied doughnuts, and a mammoth
freezer full of ice cream, floated majestically down the moonlit river,
trailing a huge clump of rhododendron bush after it like the tail of a
comet.

CHAPTER XXI

FOILED

And now out of the still and moonlit night arose peal after peal of
thunder imparting a note of terror to this world catastrophe. Never
before had the thunderous voice of our hero rent the heavens as it did
now.

"Help! Help! I'm floating away with the eats."

It is no wonder that the man in the moon smiled at what he saw on the
river that night. Seeing the laden board, the pyramid of sandwiches
rearing its luscious pinnacle toward heaven, he seemed to wink at
Pee-wee--with what purport who shall say? Sufficient that our hero saw
him not.

"_He-e-e-elp_! I'm drifting downstream with the refreshments," he
called. "_He-e-elp_!"

They heard him amid their revels. Townsend Ripley who had suffered the
assaults of the hunter's stew heard him. The scouts who had eaten a
"light supper" heard him. Warde Hollister who had pled with Roy for a
safety first policy heard him. Minerva Skybrow heard him and paused
aghast in the midst of a two-step. Fo