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Pee-Wee Harris Adrift

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<h3> CHAPTER XIV </h3> <h3> "GO" </h3> Old Trimmer chugged up to the edge of the island in the shabbiest, leakiest little motor dory on the river, and grasped a little tuft of greensward to keep his boat from drifting. "Well, now, what's all this?" he began. "What you youngsters been doin' up the river, eh?" "This used to be your land before it was an island," said Pee-wee diplomatically. "I bet you'll say it's funny how it used to be your apple tree and everything. But it broke away and kind of fell down and now it's an island and we discovered it. It can't—one thing—it can't ever be a peninsula again, that's sure. Islands, they're discovered and then you own them, that's the way it is. Findings is keepings with islands." "Is that so?" said old Trimmer, half-interested and examining what might be called the underpinning of the island with keen preoccupation. <center> <ANTIMG SRC="images/img-088.jpg" ALT="The boys hold the island in spite of old Trimmer's protest." BORDER="2" WIDTH="381" HEIGHT="622"> <h4> [Illustration: The boys hold the island in spite of old Trimmer's protest.] </h4> </center> "Well, you'll just clear off'n this here property double quick. Pile in here and I'll set you ashore." "Don't you go," urged Pee-wee; "we've got a right here; we're going to camp on this island." "Sure we are," said Roly Poly. "And you can't make us get off, either, because it isn't on your land." Old Trimmer wasted no words. "Pile in here, all of you," he said, indicating the boat, "or I'll have yer all up fer trespassin'." "Do you own this old scow or whatever it is underneath us?" Townsend asked quietly. "Look a'here, young feller, no talkin' back," said old Trimmer testily; "come along, step lively. I'm going to tow this whole business back up to where it belongs. Now d'ye want me ter set yer ashore or not?" "Not," said Roly Poly. "I don't think we have anything to say about it, Mr. Trimmer," said Townsend. "The land that used to be part of your field seems to be on a scow or something or other and we're on the land that's on the scow. We're here because we're here——" "Let's hear you answer that argument!" shouted Pee-wee in a voice of thunder. "This is a river, isn't it? Do you deny that? It's an inward waterway—I mean inland—and it belongs to the government and this scow or whatever it is, is on it and something that used to be a peninsula but isn't any more is on the scow and we're on the thing that used to be a peninsula——" "In the shade of the young apple tree," said Townsend. "That's just what I was going to say," said Pee-wee, "and you can't put us off this land because if that's trespassing then the land is trespassing too—it's trespassing on the scow—so we won't get off the land till you take the land off the scow and put it back where it belongs and then we'll get off it because, gee whiz, scouts have no right to trespass." He paused, not for lack of arguments but for lack of breath. "So that's the way it is, is it?" said old Trimmer darkly. "Well, we'll see." "Sure we'll see," said Pee-wee. "That shows how much you know about geography and international law and all those things. Suppose Cape Cod should break off and float away. Would it belong to New Hampshire any more—I mean Connecticut—I mean Massachusetts? Gee whiz, we're going to stay right here because we're on a public waterway and anyway you don't own the scow that this land is on, do you?" There was, of course, no answer to this fine analysis of the legal points involved. "That there scow was under my land," said old Trimmer. "It was in the river and it wasn't on anybody's land as I understand it," said Townsend in his funny way. "Your land trespassed on the scow——" "Sure it did!" interrupted Pee-wee. "It really had no right to do that, Mr. Trimmer, unless you can show that you own the scow. As I understand it this is a kind of a legal sandwich. The land that used to be a part of your field is between the scow and us——" "Sure it is!" vociferated Pee-wee, caught by the idea of a sandwich so huge and picturesque. "We're kind of like one of the slices of bread and the scow is the other slice. It's thick and dark like rye bread," he added to make the picture more graphic. "It's a kind of a legal sandwich," said Townsend, sitting back against the tree with his knees drawn up and talking with a calmness and seriousness which aroused the wrath of old Trimmer. "It's a kind of an interesting situation. We have as much right on the scow as the land has, as I see it——" "Sure, you learn that in the third grade!" shouted Pee-wee. "That's logic." "Really, the best thing to do," drawled Townsend, "would be to remove the land, which would let us down onto the scow and that would let you out of the difficulty. We'd be answerable to the owner of the scow." "It belonged to the big dredge," Pee-wee said excitedly. "I knew all the men on that dredge; I used to hang out on that dredge; those men were all friends of mine. We wouldn't be trespassing except your land is in the way." "If you want us to shovel the land out of here we'll do it," suggested Roly Poly. "Then the tree'll fall over," said Brownie. "Gee whiz," shouted Pee-wee, "it'll serve the tree right because all the time fellers are being accused of trespassing in apple trees and now you can see for yourself that apple trees are just as bad. They trespass on scows." "We could have this tree fined ten dollars," said Billy, "if we wanted to report it to the dredging company in New York." "Or it would have to go to jail for thirty days," yelled Pee-wee. "I don't see what we're going to do, Mr. Trimmer," said Townsend. "I know what we're going to do," said Pee-wee; "we're going to do a lot of things. We're natives of this island." "We don't recognize this land," said Townsend; "we consider it beneath us." "Sure it's beneath us!" shouted Pee-wee. "It simply happens to trespass on the scow first," said Townsend. "I think we'll stand on our rights." "Well, yer ain't goin' ter stand on my property, yer ain't!" old Trimmer bellowed, his wrath rising. Townsend's calmness seemed to goad him to a perfect frenzy. "Well, then," said Townsend, "the only thing for us to do is to shovel out a space and camp on that. Then our feet will be on the scow——" "We'll be on friendly territory," shouted Pee-wee. "Your land can camp here with us if it wants to." "Or you can take it away, just as you please," said Townsend. "Only we warn you not to take any liberties with this scow. We're personally acquainted with Mr. Steam of the Steam Dredging Company and we're going to charter this scow, now that we're on it. We can get another desert island to put on it if necessary." "Do you see this traffic sign?" Pee-wee yelled at the top of his voice. He stood like some conquering hero, holding the martial stop sign with one hand. "The bottom of this bar is planted on the scow. Do you hear the noise it makes when I bump it up and down? It goes right through this land. We take possession of this scow in the name of the new Alligator Patrol or maybe it'll be the Turtles, we don't know yet. We plant our banner on the—the——" "The rye bread," said Billy. "And if this land," Pee-wee continued, "that used to be a peninsula and stuck out over the river from your field and trespassed on the scow when it didn't have any right to because it wasn't friends with the dredge men—if this land wants to stay here it can." "What do you say, Mr. Trimmer?" Townsend laughed. "If you want to tow this whole business back up to your place we'll help you shovel the land off the scow. We don't want to camp on an island that violates the law. But you haven't got anything to do with this scow. I'm not asking you how it got alongside your field or why the dredging people didn't take it away when they took the dredge away; that's your business," he added rather significantly. "We'll admit the land is yours——" "No, we won't!" said Pee-wee. "Yes, we will," said Townsend quietly. "Now what do you want to do about this property? Shall we wrap it up for you or shall we send it? Our dealings are with the steam dredge people. Now what do you say? By the way, will you have a cruller?" It was perfectly evident that Townsend Ripley, with rather more quiet shrewdness than any of them had given him credit for, had gently stabbed Mr. Trimmer in a weak spot. It was the scow that old Trimmer wanted. How he had come by it had been only faintly suggested by Townsend. How it had chanced to be moored in that secluded spot under the projecting land after the big dredge had gone away, was not discussed and is not a part of this story. It seemed evident that old Trimmer was rather disturbed at the thought of the boys getting in touch with the dredge people. "Go ahead n' camp on it then," he said in sulky surrender; "and don't make a nuisance of yourselves writin' letters to the dredging company. Them men has got something else ter do besides bothering with a crew of crazy youngsters." "But you know what you said about trespassing, Mr. Trimmer," said Townsend. "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." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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