ise, 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 shores 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 shore the
birds were already chirping, a merry fish (that did not have to go to
school) flopped out of the water and went splashing 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 shore 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 shore of the island but up on
the shore 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 shore 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 shore 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 he