Radio operations were conceivable. But reach
it no one could. The adventurer would have been swallowed in mud.
This safe isolation would continue for a couple of hours and then the
playful water would come rippling in again spreading a glinting
coverlet over the flats once more and lifting the island upon its
swelling bosom.
Down the narrowing river rowed our rescuing crew, and as they rowed the
river narrowed. Soon the lantern light on the island was abreast of
them, some forty or fifty feet distant.
"Hello, over there," called Warde.
"I'm pretty well," called Pee-wee.
"What are we going to do?" asked Townsend. "The tide has beat us to
it. He's safe enough."
"Oh, he couldn't be safer," said Warde. "Our name is mud. All our
rowing for nothing."
"How about the eats over there, Kid?" Warde called.
"They're all right," called Pee-wee, "only the ice cream is starting to
melt. I stuck my finger in through the ice and the cream is kind of
oozing out. Maybe I better eat it, hey? It won't hold out till the
tide comes in. I ate a sandwich and that made me thirsty and I didn't
want to be drinking the lemonade so I ate a piece of ice out of the
freezer and that made me more thirsty so I drank some lemonade anyway
and that made me hungry again and I'm going to eat a sardine sandwich
only I'm afraid that'll make me thirsty and----"
"This is horrible," said Townsend; "it's like an endless chain. Where
will the end be?"
"Do you think it would be all right for me to eat some chicken salad?"
Pee-wee shouted.
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