Pee-Wee Harris Adrift Part 24

Therefore, Slats Corbett did not undertake anything in the way of a belligerent and retaliatory enterprise now. But he could not pa.s.s the sleeping campers without in some way registering his mortal enmity, so he did something which was altogether characteristic of him. He rowed very quietly along sh.o.r.e and untied the rope with which the little island was moored. Even this unheroic thing he did in fear and trembling, for the spirit of Townsend Ripley seemed to pervade the quiet spot. Then the trio proceeded quietly down the river in the darkness.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

KEEKIE JOE, SCOUT

The first one to awake in the morning was Keekie Joe. Going to school on Monday was such an unusual thing with him that he had awakened at five o'clock, and had not been able to go to sleep again. He had a strange, nervous feeling as if he might be going to his own wedding.

The school would look strange on a Monday. Ordinarily after a week's vacation he would have taken both Monday and Tuesday. But now, strange to say, he wanted to go to school. He wanted to do what the rest of them did. Oh, no, he was not a new boy all made over, he was just poor little Keekie Joe, but he was going to do what the rest of them did that day . . .

He now discovered, to his surprise, that the island was in the middle of the river. It had, in fact, started drifting downstream on the ebbing tide, and had caught again on Waring's reef, the scene of its recent exploit. It would stick there for some hours now, at least, for the tide was running out.

Keekie Joe looked all about him, then stole cautiously to the tent and looked within. His friends were sleeping soundly. He withdrew from the tent and looked about again. The island was about a mile farther downstream than where it had been moored.

Looking down the river, Keekie Joe could see the boat-house, and the gilt ball on top of the flagpole shone dazzling in the early sunlight.

The sh.o.r.es and river seemed fresh and new and clean, bathed in the growing light of the new day.

For a minute it seemed to Keekie Joe as if he were a sentinel again, "layin' keekie" while his friends slept. In the trees along sh.o.r.e the birds were already chirping, a merry fish (that did not have to go to school) flopped out of the water and went splas.h.i.+ng into the dim coolness again, from very excess of joy, as it seemed. Perhaps he had just looked out to see what kind of a day it was going to be. In the field on the farther sh.o.r.e from town stood several cows, like statues of contentment.

Suddenly, Keekie Joe remembered that Pee-wee's palatial cruising boat _Alligator_ had been drawn, not up on the sh.o.r.e of the island but up on the sh.o.r.e nearby. Therefore, it was not at the island now. It was a mile upstream, drawn up under a willow tree at the edge of the woods.

Keekie Joe scanned the sh.o.r.e as far as he could see, but he could not discover any sign of it. However, he knew where it was.

He wondered how his friends and he would get to sh.o.r.e to go to school.

He knew they could swim, but they would get their clothes soaked and could not go to school in such condition. Poor Keekie Joe! It never occurred to him that some boys have two suits of clothes, and that his dripping friends might go home and change their clothes before going to school.

Keekie Joe knew (or at least thought) that this situation would become serious when school time neared. He was anxious to know what time it was. You see, Joe was not a regular full-fledged scout and he could not tell time by the sun nor by forty-eleven other ingenious means known to Scout Harris.

His whole standing capital now was a knowledge of how to swim, and a dawning consciousness that scouting meant helping people and all that sort of thing. Thanks to a long course of disobedience to his poor mother, he had learned to swim like a water rat. He had had somewhat the advantage of other boys in this respect for he had gone swimming Mondays when they were in school.

But he could not determine even approximately what time it was and he had no watch. He knew that it was early, but he also knew that a mile was a long distance, especially against the tide.

Then it occurred to him that he might steal ever so cautiously into the tent and carefully, _ever so carefully_, pull Townsend's watch out from under his rough pillow and find out just what time it was. Keekie Joe had heard some wonderful stories about stalking; from all accounts rendered by Pee-wee that scout of scouts had hoodwinked every creature in the animal kingdom, stealing up behind them unawares, and subjecting every variety of bird to nervous prostration.

But Keekie Joe decided not to try his skill at this kind of stalking.

For one thing, he had never touched a gold watch before and the thought of it awed him. And for another thing, if Townsend should awake and catch him in the act he would think that his protege was trying to steal his watch . . .

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

THE STORY CLOSES AND SCHOOL OPENS

Keekie Joe could not trust himself in any such stalking exploit and he had no standing capital of good reputation with which to verify his honorable intention in case his bungling hand should slip. He had as good as promised Townsend that he would not go swimming. But also these boys all had to go to school.

I am not saying what I think he should have done; I am simply telling you what he did. He slid silently into the water with his rags clinging to him and started swimming up the river against the ebbing tide. He had a simple, short-sighted, one-track mind. It never occurred to him that by undressing he might return and don his dry clothes again, such as they were. He had always gone in swimming with his rags on and he was his own clothesline; they dried upon his back.

In the water, Keekie Joe was at his best. He swam to sh.o.r.e like a little devil. Then, with all his might and main, he ran northward through the woods keeping close to the sh.o.r.e. This necessitated his swimming through mud and marshy places. But he hurried on, soaked, weary, panting. He was a horrible sight when he reached the boat, dripping with mud, his flesh torn by brambles, his ragged clothing plastered to his poor little form like wall-paper.

He was not good at rowing but fortunately all he had to do was to guide the old punt while the tide carried it down. And so he brought the old boat to the island and pulled it well up on the sh.o.r.e, and tied it with a rope. Then panting, dripping, he groped his way to the tent and looked within. They were all still sleeping peacefully.

Keekie Joe had no change of clothing either on the island or anywhere else. Going to school was out of the question now; he was too saturated and filthy. Why should he remain on the island? He felt that he could not face Townsend Ripley after breaking the promise he had made him not to go in swimming. Poor Keekie Joe, his eyes were so full of mud that he could not see the glory of that broken promise!

"Yez cin all go ter school," he said. Then, with as much fear and stealth as if he were running away from the police he crept into the water again and started for sh.o.r.e. He bent his course as nearly as he could for the end of Barrel Alley which ab.u.t.ted on the river. Soon he would be back in the yard of Billy Gilson's tire repair shop and could rest. His little sojourn in Fairyland had been a wonderful thing . . .