"Hey, Roly, where are you going with the real estate?" another called.

"I knew you were too heavy for that neck of land," shouted another.

"Why didn't you take the whole orchard with you?" a third wanted to
know.

"_For the love of----_," another ejaculated. "Look at the sign, will
you! The place is discovered already!"

Pee-wee did not wait for formal introductions. "We're going to start
the Combination Scouts of Bridgeboro!" he shouted. "We're going to be
sea scouts and land scouts all rolled into one! We took possession and
it's all right! Old Trimmer can't say that he owned an island, can he?
We're going to have our pictures in _Boys' Life_ and everything and
we're going to have all the apples when they're ripe and maybe we're
going to call ourselves the Crab-apple Patrol! Maybe there's treasure
buried here, how do we know? And we're going to get one of those
things--a saxophone or whatever you call it--to take our latitude and
longitude with! We're going to be better than the Ravens and the Elks
and the Silver Foxes and I know how to make apple-sauce! We're going
to be a new kind of a patrol!"

"In the name of goodness, what's that, a phonograph?" one of the
approaching canoeists called.

"That's the discoverer," Roly called back. "He took possession of the
island in the name of the King of Bridgeboro."

"I thought it was an earthquake," laughed a tall boy who was stepping