red panel which said STOP, and held his hand up like a
traffic officer.

But there was no need of requiring the approaching voyager to pause.
For he had every intention of pausing. Neither would there have been
any use of asking him for a match. For he never gave away matches.

Old Trimmer never gave away anything. He would not even give away a
secret, he was so stingy. To get a match from old Trimmer you would
have had to give him chloroform. It was said that he would not look at
his watch to see what time it was for fear of wearing it out, and that
he looked over the top of his spectacles to save the lenses. At all
events he was so economical that he seldom wasted any words, and the
words that he did waste were not worth saving; they were not very nice
words.

CHAPTER XIV

"GO"

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.

[Illustration: The boys hold the island in spite of old Trimmer's
protest.]

"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