"Save them," shouted Roy.

"All right, I will," screamed Pee-wee.

"_Oh, such a relief_," said Minerva. "Do you think he's stuck fast?"

"We can only hope," said Townsend. "Come on, let's hustle."

Words cannot describe the haste and excitement with which the skiff was
launched and manned by a little band of doughty pioneers. Roy, Warde
Hollister and Townsend Ripley were the crew, two rowing while the other
steered.

"Can we help ourselves?" Warde asked, as they glided out on the river.

"Yes, yes, yes, help yourselves to _anything_," called Minerva, "only
bring them back--pile them in the boat--it doesn't make any difference
how--only hurry, he may drift off again."

"Now you see," said Roy, addressing Warde, "the harder you work and the
longer you wait the hungrier you'll be. Everything is working out
fine, thanks to me."

"Oh, sure," said Warde, already breathless from his strenuous rowing,
"they give you roast turkey up at Skybrows; they give you chicken salad
and sandwiches and--only try to get it. I'm so hungry I could eat the
island, thanks to you. I could eat a whisk-broom. Follow you and I'll
starve."

"Did you ever eat any of that kid's hunter's stew?" Townsend asked as