nd. "You have taught us that we shouldn't trespass and we thank
you for the lesson. We'll have to drop Mr. Steam a line. How about a
cruller, Mr. Trimmer? They were just stolen from our small friend's
kitchen. Don't care for stolen fruit, hey? You're too particular, Mr.
Trimmer."

CHAPTER XV

LIFE ON THE UNKNOWN SHORE

Seldom has there been a surrender so complete and unconditional. There
were no banners to celebrate the triumph (for which Pee-wee took all
the credit) but as old Trimmer started up the river Pee-wee turned the
sign so that the word GO faced the departing voyager like a commanding
finger to order the vanquished from his victorious presence.

"Do you think he had some treasure in the scow?" Pee-wee asked. "Maybe
if we dig we'll find some gold nuggets."

"Let's try some of those cocoanut nuggets," said Townsend.

"Didn't I know how to handle him?" said Pee-wee. "Now the island is
ours, isn't it?"

"I think before we have supper," said Townsend, "we'll write a line to
the dredging people. What do you say?"

"We'll write it on bark from the tree on account of our being wild and
uncivilized," said Pee-wee. "I can make ink out of prune juice and we
can write with a stick like hunters do when they get lost."

"Do they carry prune juice with them?" Billy asked.

"Sometimes they use blood," said Pee-wee. "I can make ink from onions
too--invisible ink. Shall I make some?"

"I thought you were going to make a hunter's stew," said Brownie.

"Go ahead," said Roly Poly, "you make the hunter's stew--it won't be
invisible, will it?"

"It will when we get through with it," said Billy.

"And while you're making the stew, Rip will write the letter and the
first one of us that goes ashore will mail it."

The letter which Townsend Ripley wrote to the dredging company asking
permission to use the old scow surmounted by a luxurious desert island
was very funny, but it was not nearly as funny as the hunter's stew
which Pee-wee made.

Their minds now free as to their rights (at least, for the time being)
they sprawled about under the little tree as the afternoon sunlight
waned and partook of the weird concoction which Pee-wee cooked in the
dishpan over the rough fireplace which they had constructed. And if
Pee-wee was not the equal of his friend Roy Blakeley in the matter of
cooking, he was at least vastly superior to him in the matter of
eating, and as he himself observed, "Gee whiz, eatin