so _well_ after eating
hunter's stew. We should worry, we'll have all the stuff pretty soon
now. Narrow escape, hey? _Oh, boy_, it would have been terrible to
lose all that stuff. It looked like an altar, didn't it?"

"It'll look like a vacuum when we get through with it," said Warde.

"Do you think we can get it all in the boat?"

"If we can't, we'll tow the icing cakes behind," said Roy. "What _I'm_
thinking fond thoughts about is the ice cream."

"Same here," said Townsend.

"Same here," said Warde.

And meanwhile the man in the moon winked down at Pee-wee.

CHAPTER XXII

IN THE GLARE OF THE SEARCH-LIGHT

Now the tide is a funny thing, especially in a small suburban river.
The banks of a river being for the most part sloping, the river bed is
narrower at the bottom than at the top. You don't have to wear glasses
to see that. That is why the tide, as it recedes, runs faster and
faster; because during the last hour or two of its recession it flows
in narrower confines. This has been the settled policy of nature for
many centuries, and it was so ordered for the benefit of Pee-wee Harris.

When the Merry-go-round Island floated leisurely against the Skybrow
lawn the tide had been flowing out for about an hour. When this same
rechristened island broke loose disguised as an earthly paradise, the
tide was in a great hurry. And when the earthly paradise caught upon
the flats the little remaining water was running as if it were going to
catch a train.

Rapidly, ever so rapidly, the water slid down off the flats to join the
hurrying water in the channel. And, presto, all of a sudden there was
the Isle of Desserts high and dry surrounded by an ocean of oozy mud
while the river, narrowed to a mere brook, rushed in its channel some
fifty feet distant. And there you are.

That is why the man in the moon (who knows all about the tides) winked
at Pee-wee. At least, I suppose that is why he winked.

You could not have reached the Isle of Desserts with a boat or with
snow-shoes or with stilts or with anything except an airplane.
Swimming to it was out of the question. Shouting and screaming to it
was feasible, of course. 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 a