CUT RATE CRUISES TO ALLIGATOR ISLE
SEE THE WILD SCOUTS AND THE BOAT RACES
ENJOY A SEA VOYAGE IN THE PALATIAL ROWBOAT ALLIGATOR
ROUND AND SQUARE TRIP TEN CENTS.
SAILINGS FROM GILROY'S FIELD.
CHAPTER XXVIII
IT PAYS TO ADVERTISE
On Friday night it rained and the Alligators were driven into their tent. It rained all night and was still raining when the momentous Saturday dawned. They were compelled to eat breakfast in their tent, the top of which was plastered with apple blossoms so that the khaki-colored fabric looked not unlike a brown wall paper with a floral design.
The tide being out, the rain pattered down on the surrounding mud and shallow places, and the members of the patrol sat in the open doorway of their cozy little shelter wistfully gazing at the downpour, and watching the little holes that the raindrops made in the mud.
Each drop, like a bullet, drove a little hole in the oozy bottom, which slowly closed up again. Schools of darting killies hurried this way and that frantically seeking an avenue into the deeper places where puddles would afford them a haven during the lowest ebb. Rain, rain, rain.
On the porch of the boat-house a mile or so down-stream was gathered a group of young fellows, also watching wistfully. Through the intervening space of rain they seemed like pictures of spectres, misty and unsubstantial.
"The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide," said Townsend cheerily. "I think when it comes in it's going to stop raining, that's what I think. It's going to clear up and be warm this afternoon, you see. Rain before seven, clear before eleven. What do you say we catch some of those killies and fry them?"
"That's what you call an inspiration," said Roly Poly.