ames.

A SERIOUS INTERRUPTION.

[Illustration: Fig. 320. A General View of our Cantilever Bridge.]

We were just preparing to lay the tracks across the bridge when we met
with a serious interruption. Mr. Halliday had told us that a few days
before our arrival that summer Mr. Smith, the owner of the island, and
another man had paid a visit to the place. Jim Halliday himself had
rowed them over, and learned from their conversation that Mr. Smith was
trying to sell the island, and that the stranger, a Mr. Gill, was a
prospective purchaser. All summer long we had been dreading the return
of this customer, though, as time passed without his putting in an
appearance, we almost forgot the incident. But now, at the end of
August, just as we had about completed our cantilever bridge, who should
arrive but this very man Gill and three other men with a large tent and
camping outfit. It was a sorrowful crowd of boys that watched the wagon
with their belongings ford the shallow water over to our island. We felt
that the island was ours by right of discovery and occupation, but we
were powerless to force our claims. And what if they did not insist on
our leaving the island? It would not be the same place with strangers
around to meddle with our things.

DISPOSSESSED.

But the new owner of the island was even more of a boor than we had
anticipated. As soon as he landed he wanted to know what we were doing
on his property, and peremptorily ordered us off. Bill answered that we
were camping there, and politely asked if we couldn't stay out the
summer. But Gill would not listen to the idea. We must get off the
island that very day or he would see to it that we did.

I tell you it made us boil. We were just itching to give the pompous
little man the sound thrashing he deserved, but knew that we would stand
a very small show against his three powerful companions. At any rate, we
were determined not to leave at once. Instead, we repaired to Kite
Island, taking our belongings with us. Then we cut away the suspension,
spar and pontoon bridges, so that we would not be annoyed by any of the
Gill crowd. We were resolved that they should not benefit by any of the
things we had built.

At the dead of night we paddled back to Willow Clump Island, crept past
the slumbering intruders and waded out to the old water wheel. After a
good deal of exertion we managed to dislodge the smaller tower, letting
the wheel drop into the river and float