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"Go ahead," said Roly Poly, "you make the hunter's stew it won't be invisible, will it?" "It will when we get through with it," said Billy. "And while you're making the stew, Rip will write the letter and the first one of us that goes ashore will mail it."
"I'll be anything as long as it's Saturday; I'm not particular," said Roly Poly. "Because my father knows a man that's a lawyer and he'll stick up for us," Pee-wee continued excitedly. "Because old Trimmer hasn't got any deed that says he owns an island, has he? All right, this is an island in Bridgeboro. You can't deny that, can you? Let's hear you deny that.
"Oh, what has happened to him?" cried Mab. "Hurry, Daddy, please, and see!" Hal, Mab and their father ran to the gate in the fence that was between their yard and the garden of Mr. Porter. Down where their neighbor's lima beans were planted, and where they were climbing up the poles, they heard the barking and yelping of Roly-Poly sounding loudly. "He's there!" cried Mab. "Here, Roly! Come here!
At the edge of the lawn where the Isle of Desserts had been, six figures sat in the darkness. They sat in a row, their legs drawn up and held by their clasped hands. They sat waiting and watching in the silent night. "The river is going to eat the edge of this lawn all away if they don't face it with stone," said Roly Poly. "Will you please stop talking about eating?" said Brownie.
"No, no, better than a cwacker you guess." "I can't guess," said Paul; "never mind, I don't want to know." "Well then," said Roly, "there." And he slowly unclosed a fat little fist, and in it Paul saw, with a revulsion of feeling that turned him dizzy and faint, the priceless talisman itself, the identical Garudâ Stone, with part of the frail gilt ring still attached to it.
"It belonged to the big dredge," Pee-wee said excitedly. "I knew all the men on that dredge; I used to hang out on that dredge; those men were all friends of mine. We wouldn't be trespassing except your land is in the way." "If you want us to shovel the land out of here we'll do it," suggested Roly Poly. "Then the tree'll fall over," said Brownie.
"Well, I see I'll have to tell you more about the garden," answered Daddy Blake with a laugh, as he gave Roly over to his little girl and boy, who eagerly petted him. "For the mole is one of the garden pests, and the trap, Mr. Porter set to catch some who were spoiling his things, caught Roly-Poly instead." "Is a mole a worm?" Hal wanted to know. "Or is it like a potato bug?"
That fact is well established. Little he thought that when Roly Poly, delving into a paper bag that was in a grocery box, handed him a sardine sandwich, it would mark an epoch in scout history. In order to accept the proffered refreshment, Pee-wee was compelled either to relinquish the traffic sign or the banana.
"Well, if you want to get wet all right!" laughed Mab. "Here it comes!" She pointed the hose straight at Roly and in a second he was wet through. "Ki-yi! Ki-yi! Ki-yi!" he yelped as he ran out of the garden. "Bow-wow! Ki-yi!" "Well, it will cool him off, and I guess he wanted it after all," said Daddy Blake. "But Roly is a good little dog.
Porter set was a spring trap without any sharp points to it, which he thought might catch a mole alive. Instead it caught Roly, who was digging away to find a buried bone, maybe." "Is he all right now?" asked Mab. "Yes, his tail was only pinched a little but Roly's tail is very tender I guess, for he howled very loudly." "I wish I could see a mole," said Hal. "So do I," echoed his sister.
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