“Shall we let them do it?” Pee-wee whispered to Townsend.

“Of course we’ll want one of our referees to stay on the island during the races,” said Wingate, “but he won’t hurt anything.  There’ll be several races, a rowing race, a canoe race, a swimming race and so on; we haven’t made up the program yet.”

“Are you going to have any refreshments?” Pee-wee demanded.

“We don’t allow refreshments on the island,” said Townsend.

“Shall we let them do it?” Pee-wee asked.

“Positively,” said Townsend; “I don’t see how we can stop them, as long as they keep outside of the three mile limit.  The referee won’t do any harm.  All he does is to see that the racing is fair as they round the limit.”

“We’re the limit, hey?” vociferated Pee-wee.

“You said it,” laughed the fellow from Edgemere.

“All right,” said Pee-wee, “you can do it.”

It was not until the Alligator Patrol sat around their camp-fire that night that the possibilities of this participation in the athletic events began to unfold in the seething mind of our hero.  He had stood somewhat upon his dignity with the committee because he did not want to hold the island too cheap in their eyes.

Moreover, though he was for Bridgeboro, once, last and always, his attitude was uniformly combative toward older boys, high school boys in particular, and toward high schools generally.  He would be chary of the privileges he granted to these “big fellers” whom he knew so well how to “handle.”  But in the light of the camp-fire he saw visions of huge war profits in these impending combats.  While Edgemere and Bridgeboro fought he would become a war millionaire.  The little island, retired from its wild career at last and with a secure and fixed abode would still play an important part in world affairs.

“I tell you what we’ll do,” said Pee-wee; “we’ll sell seats for people to see the races from the island.  We’ll build a couple of benches out of this old refreshment board—­we’ll drive stakes in the ground—­and one of us will go to town—­I mean the mainland—­with a big sign telling people they can buy seats for ten cents—­because in the boat races when Sir Thomas Lipton’s yacht got beaten lots of people paid to go out on excursion steamers and this island is better than an excursion steamer, because they’ll go right around the edge of it—­right around the coast and everybody’ll get a dandy view.”

Thus it was that on Thursday and Friday there; appeared in the Bridgeboro Evening Record an advertisement which read: 

See the High School events on the river from Alligator Island, seats ten cents.  Fine view of the races.  Free transportation both ways.  Alligator Island belongs to the boy scouts and is in the middle of the river, commanding a fine view because the boats go around it.  Boat goes back and forth from Gilroy’s field.  Absolutely safe.  Take the beautiful ride to Alligator Island and see the races for only ten cents.  Children in arms if not accompanied by parents have to pay five cents.