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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..695b93c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69612 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69612) diff --git a/old/69612-0.txt b/old/69612-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2119862..0000000 --- a/old/69612-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6598 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sea Scouts of the Kestrel, by -Percy F. Westerman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Sea Scouts of the Kestrel - The story of a cruise of adventure & pluck in a small yacht on - the English Channel - -Author: Percy F. Westerman - -Release Date: December 23, 2022 [eBook #69612] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines, Jen Haines & the online Distributed Proofreaders - Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA SCOUTS OF THE -KESTREL *** - - - - - - - - [Cover Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: In the Toils of the Dreaded Race At the imminent risk of -being either jerked or washed overboard Brandon fought his way for’ard -hanging on desperately as he battled towards his goal. Then hanging on -with his left hand he succeeded in casting off the rope that held the -“Kestrel” to the “Merlin.”] - - - - - T H E S E A S C O U T S - OF - T H E _ K E S T R E L _ - - The Story of a Cruise of Adventure & Pluck in - - a Small Yacht on the English - - Channel - - _By_ - PERCY F. WESTERMAN - - Author of - - “Clipped Wings,” “Sea Scouts Abroad,” “The - - Sea Monarch,” “Under the White - - Ensign,” _&c. &c._ - - _With Coloured Illustrations_ - - London - - Seeley, Service & Co. Limited - - 196 Shaftesbury Avenue - - - - - Printed in Great Britain at - - _The Mayflower Press, Plymouth_. William Brendon & Son, Ltd. - - - - - CONTENTS - - CHAPTER I - PAGE - Knocked Out 17 - - CHAPTER II - The Mascot 28 - - CHAPTER III - An All-night Watch 36 - - CHAPTER IV - Investigations 44 - - CHAPTER V - Adrift 51 - - CHAPTER VI - In the Fog 57 - - CHAPTER VII - The Derelict 70 - - CHAPTER VIII - The Man they Rescued 79 - - CHAPTER IX - What Marner Revealed 87 - - CHAPTER X - Blueskin’s Plot 96 - - CHAPTER XI - How it Failed 101 - - CHAPTER XII - Out of Action 111 - - CHAPTER XIII - The Stowaway 117 - - CHAPTER XIV - The Peril of the Race 130 - - CHAPTER XV - “To be Returned in Due Course” 142 - - CHAPTER XVI - The “Kestrel” to the Rescue 150 - - CHAPTER XVII - Becalmed 159 - - CHAPTER XVIII - The Admiral 168 - - CHAPTER XIX - The Convict 177 - - CHAPTER XX - The Last Lap 191 - - CHAPTER XXI - The Eve of the Jamboree 204 - - CHAPTER XXII - The Race for the Cup 211 - - CHAPTER XXIII - A Dead Heat 223 - - CHAPTER XXIV - Snatched from the Deep 232 - - CHAPTER XXV - Home Again 245 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - In the Toils of the Dreaded Race _Frontispiece_ - - PAGE - A Cowardly Deed and a Plucky Rescue 24 - - An Unwelcome Visitor 184 - - Returning Good for Evil 240 - - - - - THE - - SEA SCOUTS OF THE “KESTREL” - - - - - =The Sea Scouts of the= - - =“Kestrel”= - - - - - CHAPTER I - Knocked Out - - -“What’s happened to Mr. Grant, I wonder?” remarked Sea Scout Peter -Craddock, as he gazed anxiously through the gathering twilight. “He’s -late.” - -“So will we be, if we keep hanging-on to the slack,” rejoined Patrol -Leader Frank Brandon. “There are only eighteen more days to the Sea -Scouts’ Jamboree, and if we’re to be in it, there’s not a minute to -waste. Mr. Grant’s all right, never you fear.” - -Craddock straightened his aching back, wiped the perspiration from his -eyes, and resumed his voluntary though tedious task. He, too, realised -that time was precious if the “Otters” were to be represented at the -forthcoming and eagerly anticipated nautical festivities of the Sea -Scouts’ Jamboree. - -The “Otters” were a long way from their native Aberstour. Force of -circumstances had hit them pretty hard of late, but, like corks, they -bobbed up again under adversity as all scouts should do. - -For one thing, their staunch little yacht _Puffin_ was no more. She had -foundered at her moorings in a terrific autumn gale that had sprung up -with such suddenness that the official weather forecast had failed to -give any warning whatsoever. Then, Mr. Grant, their Scoutmaster, had a -serious illness that put him out of the running for three months. Patrol -Leader Frank Brandon was away on a five months’ involuntary voyage on a -tramp steamer, and had only just returned. - -In the absence of Scoutmaster and Patrol Leader, Peter Craddock did his -level best to keep the troop running, and by dint of sheer enthusiasm he -had succeeded. - -Mr. Grant had recovered his health when the Sea Scouts’ Jamboree was -announced. It was to be a gathering of every troop in the United -Kingdom, and was to be held in the spacious land-locked waters of -Chichester harbour. There were to be sailing and motor-boat races, -rowing and sculling matches, swimming and diving contests, and numerous -competitions in which the Sea Scouts were to display their prowess. For -those lads who were unable to come round in their own craft a splendid -camping site was provided; but, as Peter Craddock remarked, a lot of the -fun would be missed if the “Otters” had to hike it by road, and then be -compelled to see others display their seamanship, they themselves being -unable to compete in friendly rivalry. Without the _Puffin_, the outlook -seemed a bit disappointing. - -Then, quite unexpectedly, a chance presented itself. The Scoutmaster -heard of a suitable craft offered for sale at a very reasonable figure -owing to the present owner finding himself unable to carry out his -original intentions. - -She was an ex-naval “launch”—a boat propelled either by sail or -oars—of very substantial construction and only a few years old. She was -forty-two feet in length and diagonal built. That is to say, she had her -planks doubled, those forming the outer skin running diagonally on those -of the inner skin. This system resulted in great strength of hull, while -in addition the edges of the planking were “flush,” otherwise a smooth -surface. - -Her present owner had intended to convert the launch into a ketch yacht, -and had already given her a fairly deep iron keel and had commenced to -deck her in and build a cabin. Then he “stuck” owing to lack of funds; -and to make the best of his bargain offered the craft as she stood. - -“As she stood,” meant that she was lying afloat at Polkebo Creek, a -remote inlet of the spacious Cornish harbour of Falmouth, which was a -long way from Aberstour. - -The Sea Scouts held a council of ways and means. Fortunately they had -seven weeks’ holiday. The proposal of a trip to Falmouth to bring back -the boat seemed alluring. As for the completion of the conversion job, -the lads were all handy with carpenters’ tools: their Troop funds were -enough to justify the expenses. - -The deal was completed, and the “Otters” lost no time in proceeding to -Falmouth and taking over the new craft. - -Compared with the _Puffin_ she was a lump of a boat. With her newly -fitted iron keel she was “as stiff as a house.” Her original masts, -sails, anchor, chain and other gear were stored in a shed adjoining the -creek. Timber and other necessary material were readily procurable at -Falmouth. Most of these were brought by water in a serviceable 14-foot -dinghy that had been included in the bargain. - -Work progressed apace. The Sea Scouts stuck it gamely, cheerfully -working long hours in the assurance that theirs was a labour of love for -that fickle taskmistress the sea. The kindly fisherfolk of Polkebo took -great interest in “them young furriners,” giving the amateur shipwrights -many useful hints and, what was more, helpful assistance. - -There was one exception, however. That was Carlo Bone, generally known -as Blueskin, a hulking lout of about thirty and the despair of the -district. He was tall, heavily built and, with proper exercise and clean -living, ought to have been a formidable figure in the old Cornish -pastime of wrestling. Unfortunately he showed no inclination either to -work or to play decently. When sheer necessity compelled him to work, he -sometimes shipped on board a coaster. The local fisherfolk knew him only -too well, and there was never a berth for him in the pilchard fleet. -During his many spells of idleness “on the beach,” he spent all the time -the Law allows in lounging in public-houses. He was a cunning poacher, -but he had never been caught in the act. Rumour had it that he combined -the undesirable occupations of thief and smuggler. Already his evil life -had left its mark. His face was flabby, and his features were of a -purplish hue. Hence his name Blueskin. - -Blueskin had a grievance against the Sea Scouts. He had hoped to obtain -possession of the ex-Service launch by fair means or, preferably, by -foul; but the late owner had refused to part with the boat merely on -vague promises to pay, coming as they did from Carlo Bone. From morning -to night, except when the “Dog and Gun” was open, Blueskin would lounge -about on the quayside and bombard the lads with sarcastic and offensive -remarks, attempting in vain to make them abandon their task. - -On the afternoon on which this story opens, Mr. Grant and Sea Scout -Carline had rowed to the Prince of Wales’s pier at Falmouth to bring off -provisions and sundry stores. It was now nearly ten o’clock, and they -had not returned. The long Cornish twilight was setting in. In another -twenty minutes, night would have fallen. For a wonder, Blueskin’s now -familiar and unwelcome figure had not put in an appearance that evening. - -“Knock off now, lads!” ordered Brandon. “It’s been a long day, but we -simply had to finish that bulkhead. Start the stove, Wilson, my lad. I -don’t suppose Mr. Grant will be much longer. He’s got a fair tide up.” - -Wilson went below, leaving the Patrol Leader, Craddock, Talbot, and -Heavitree to put away the tools and to spread a tarpaulin over the as -yet unpainted cabin-top. - -At that moment the Sea Scouts noticed Carlo Bone slouching towards the -quay. At every few steps he stopped and tugged savagely at a length of -rope, the while cursing loudly. At the other end of the rope was a dog, -or rather a puppy of about two months. - -With the instinctiveness of its kind, the little animal realised that -something more unpleasant than its usual treatment at the hands of its -brutal owner was in store for it. Vainly it tried to break away, only to -be jerked remorselessly onwards. - -“The cad!” muttered Craddock. “He’s doing that just to make us lose our -tempers. He knows Mr. Grant isn’t here, and there isn’t a policeman to -be seen anywhere about.” - -Peter Craddock was perfectly right in his surmise. Blueskin was doing -his best to pick a quarrel at the expense of the little animal’s life. -Deliberately, as far as his unsteady gait permitted, he dragged the -puppy to the edge of the quay, where in full view of the Sea Scouts he -bent the free end of the rope round a heavy stone. - -For a wonder he said nothing; but the ugly leer on his flabby face was -enough. He was going to drown the dog before the eyes of the practically -helpless Sea Scouts. Nothing short of a display of concerted brute force -could stop him. He knew that. There is no law in the country to prevent -a man drowning his own dog, provided he does it with reasonable -celerity. - -The Sea Scouts scrambled on to the quay. - -“What are you going to do?” demanded Brandon. - -“Gwine ter du? Seems you’ve no eyes, like,” retorted Blueskin thickly. -“You’m not th’ ones tu stop I.” - -“Will you sell us the dog?” asked the Patrol Leader. - -“Noa, I won’t,” was the ungracious reply. “Thet pup ain’t no gude tu -noabody. Teared my boots tu pieces, ’e did; so in t’water ’e goes. Get -out o’ my way, I tell ye.” - -The other Sea Scouts looked helplessly at the Patrol Leader. Brandon -gave no sign. In the circumstances things looked hopeless. Blueskin had -the whip-hand; or at least he thought he had. - -He lifted both the puppy and the stone from the ground. . . . Grinned -tauntingly at the lads. . . . Prepared to hurl the terrified animal to -its doom. - -Stepping behind his chums, Peter Craddock felt for his keen-edged knife. -He had the ready knack of opening it with one hand. He did so, and as -unostentatiously released it from the swivel. - -“Let the brute throw the dog in,” he whispered in Brandon’s ear. “Don’t -attempt to stop him.” - -The Patrol Leader turned in amazement. One look at his chum’s determined -features told him that Peter Craddock had something up his sleeve. Peter -had: in a double sense. The keen blade, edge outwards, was nestling -against his wrist. - -There was a splash. The puppy, weighted by the heavy stone, struck the -water six feet below the quay. A second later and Peter Craddock took a -magnificent header close to the spot where the little animal had -disappeared. - -Craddock was a splendid diver. Three years in succession he had won a -prize in the plate-diving competition at the Aberstour Regatta, and now -he was putting his skill to a practical test. - - - - -[Illustration: A Cowardly Deed and a Plucky Rescue - The bully hurled the trembling puppy into the water below the quay, and - immediately Peter Craddock took a magnificent header, his open knife in - his hand ready to sever the rope which fastened the stone to the little - animal’s neck.] - -It was a difficult matter to see under the water in the failing -daylight, but before the stone touched bottom, Peter’s left hand caught -the fiercely struggling puppy. One quick movement of the keen knife and -the deed was done. Still retaining his hold of the released animal, -Craddock shot to the surface, and amidst the ringing cheers of his now -thoroughly excited chums struck out for the stone steps at the end of -the quay. - -But Blueskin had yet to be reckoned with. - -“That’s my pup,” he declared angrily, planting himself in front of the -dripping Sea Scout. “’And ’im ower tu me. In ’e goes intu the ditch -agen, I tells yu.” - -“Excuse me,” protested Peter coolly. “It was yours. When you threw the -dog in you threw away all rights to it. It’s ours now. . . . Take charge -of it, please, Brandon.” - -The Patrol Leader took the shivering pup. The animal, fearing further -punishment, struggled frantically to gain the shelter of its rescuer’s -protecting arms. - -Carlo Bone was flabbergasted. His slowly acting brain was trying to -think out the problem. No doubt that interfering “furriner” was right. -He was a fool not to stop him from diving to the rescue. There yet -remained the question of brute force. He would be more than a match for -the whole crowd of “they Sea Scoutses.” - -“Gimme that dawg!” he shouted, striding towards the Patrol Leader. - -Peter barred his way. Blueskin aimed a vicious blow at Craddock’s chest. -The Sea Scout, in successfully evading the massive fist, stepped -backwards. As he did so his rubber-soled shoes slithered on the stones, -for no footgear is proof against the slippery quays of the West Country -where fish have just been landed. He fell. The bully promptly dealt him -a kick with his heavy sea-boot. - -There is a limit to human endurance, even to that of a well-disciplined -patrol of Scouts. In an instant Fred Heavitree planted himself between -Blueskin and the prostrate Craddock. - -Heavitree was the latest recruit to the “Otters.” He was a tall, slim -youth of a somewhat retiring disposition, keen at his work and yet never -before displaying any signs of unusual strength and activity. His chums -were about to get one of life’s surprises; so was Blueskin. - -“Keep back, you fellows,” cautioned Heavitree in a low yet compelling -tone. - -The bully, thinking he had an easy task, let out a terrific left. Had it -reached its objective, Heavitree would have been lifted clean off his -feet. The Sea Scout was unable to spring back out of harm’s way, because -Craddock was still on the ground. Instead, without moving his feet, he -inclined his body from the waist. - -Blueskin’s fist met nothing more resisting than air. Before he could -recover his balance, the Sea Scout had him properly. A tremendous thud -as Heavitree’s left caught the bully fairly between the eyes was almost -simultaneously followed by a heavy right straight to the _solar plexus_. - -Heavitree stood his ground, guarding to meet a counter-attack. It was a -judicious but unnecessary precaution, for Carlo Bone, his arms whirling -like windmills, staggered backwards for three or four yards, and -collapsed in a heap upon the rough pavement. - - - - - CHAPTER II - The Mascot - - -For some moments the Sea Scouts remained dumbfounded at their chum’s -prowess. Heavitree, by far the least perturbed, stood silently regarding -the prostrate form of his late antagonist. - -“You’ve killed him, Fred,” exclaimed Wilson. - -“Not I,” replied Heavitree. “He’ll be all right in ten minutes or so, -’cept perhaps for a bad headache. Did he give you much of a hack, -Peter?” - -“He tried to,” said Craddock, as he examined his shin. The skin had been -slightly lacerated and was bleeding a little. The moisture draining from -the Sea Scout’s saturated shorts and mingling with the crimson fluid -made the abrasion look far worse than it actually was. “He tried to; but -his feet sort of side-slipped. My word, Fred! That was a knock-out blow. -Where did you learn that?” - -Before the specialist in the art of “knocking out” could reply, a number -of fisherfolk and villagers came hurrying to the quay. One of the number -had seen Blueskin floored, and had communicated the news to the -frequenters of the “Dog and Gun,” with the result that “closing time” -was anticipated for the first time in the annals of that ancient inn to -the extent of nearly three minutes. - -“Sakes, if ’tisn’t Blueskin!” exclaimed a bearded fisherman. “Laid out -prapper-like, tu. ’Ave ye been hittin’ he ower head with a hammer?” - -“No,” replied Brandon. “He went for one of us: kicked him. So Heavitree -knocked him down.” - -“What with?” asked the astonished Cornishman. - -“His fist. It was a fair blow,” declared the Patrol Leader. - -“Did he now? Us ’ud think ’twould take more’n a fist tu settle the -loikes of ’e. We’m right glad, we’m is; but harkee—Blueskin’s a twi’ble -dangerous man to fall foul wi’. He’ll get his own back, loike, e’en if -he’s tu wait ten year. Isn’t that so, friends?” - -The other villagers nodded their heads. - -“We’ll look out, then,” rejoined Brandon. “Well, there’s nothing more to -be done, I take it. Come on, Peter, and change your gear.” - -With the rescued puppy nestling in the Patrol Leader’s arms the Sea -Scouts returned on board, leaving the Polkebo folk to carry the still -unconscious form of their unpopular fellow-villager to the ramshackle -and sordid cottage which he called his home. - -The Sea Scouts crowded into their partly finished cabin. The lamp had -been lighted; a large iron kettle was on the stove. Compared with the -comfortable cabin of the little _Puffin_, the place looked barn-like and -cheerless. It had yet to be made into a really habitable cabin, but even -now it was rain-proof and afforded the lads a shelter even if it were a -case of “sleeping rough.” - -“Rummy looking little beast, what?” commented Brandon, pausing in the -act of drying the puppy’s coat to study the general appearance of the -rescued animal. Even for a puppy its hair was long, its ears drooping. -Neck, chest and forefeet were white, as was a blaze extending almost to -the tip of its jet-black nose. The rest of the fur was of a dark grey -hue. - -“It’s our mascot, anyway,” declared Wilson. “My word, Peter; you were -pretty smart in diving after it.” - -“Was I?” rejoined Craddock in a muffled tone as he struggled into a dry -jersey. “I hadn’t any idea how long I was under. It was just luck -grabbing the pup as I did.” - -“What shall we call it?” enquired Symington. - -“That’s for Peter to say,” replied Brandon. “He saved the pup. . . . -Hello! Here’s the dinghy alongside.” - -“Sorry I’m late, lads!” exclaimed Mr. Grant, as he stepped into the -cabin, blinking as he did so at the strong light compared to the -darkness without. “We’ve had rather an interesting yarn with Scoutmaster -Pendennis, haven’t we, Carline? His Sea Scouts are going to the -Jamboree, too; so we’ll—Hello! What’s that?” - -“Our mascot, sir,” replied Brandon, holding out the pup for inspection. - -“Where did you get it from?” asked Mr. Grant. - -“It was that chap Carlo Bone’s, sir,” was the somewhat vague reply. - -The Scoutmaster showed no great enthusiasm over the announcement. He did -not like the idea of the lads accepting any favours from a surly -good-for-nothing rascal of that type. - -“Did he give it you?” he asked. - -“No, sir,” replied the Patrol Leader. “He threw the pup into the creek, -and Peter fetched it out. Then——” - -“Suppose you tell the yarn from the beginning, Brandon,” said Mr. Grant -quietly. “This sounds rather interesting.” - -Frank Brandon did so. The Scoutmaster listened without making any -comment until the story was completed. - -“It served Blueskin right,” he remarked. “I’m sorry we’ve had a row, but -he evidently asked for it. We’ll have to be careful when he’s about. I -didn’t know, you were a budding pugilist, Heavitree. Where did you learn -to use your fists?” - -“At school, sir. We were taught boxing. I was supposed to be rather good -at it; only one day I hit a fellow rather hard. It was a sparring match. -I really didn’t mean to hurt him, but I did. After that I felt afraid of -myself and dropped boxing.” - -“We’ve won our mascot, haven’t we, sir?” enquired Brandon. - -Mr. Grant assented. - -“We were going to give it a name when you came back, sir,” said Peter. - -“Carry on, then,” prompted the Scoutmaster. “What do you suggest?” - -“Bruin, sir; it’s like a teddy bear.” - -“H’m!” exclaimed Mr. Grant dubiously. “It’s hardly the correct thing to -call a female dog by a masculine name. You’d better start on another -tack. Well, that’s a matter for you fellows to discuss. How have you -been getting on?” - -“We’ve finished the bulkhead to your cabin,” announced Peter. “The -cabin-top has had the first coat of paint ready for the canvas to be -stretched. Wilson and Talbot have been fitting the bunks in the main -cabin, so we won’t have to sleep on the floor in future.” - -“That’s good!” said Mr. Grant encouragingly. “To-morrow if it’s fine -we’ll polish off that cabin-top. We ought to have the masts stepped, and -the standing rigging set up by the end of the week. That reminds me: -Scoutmaster Pendennis is taking a patrol to the Jamboree in the -_Merlin_. We’ll be cruising in company unless the _Merlin_ is too smart -for us. I hope our craft will prove to be fairly fast—enough to keep up -with her. Talking about names: we haven’t given our boat a name yet.” - -“How would _Kestrel_ do, sir?” suggested Brandon. “A merlin is a sort of -hawk, and so is a kestrel.” - -“Good idea!” agreed Mr. Grant. “Now, you fellows: supper and bed. We’ve -another long day’s work in front of us to-morrow. I don’t fancy Mr. -Carlo Bone will favour us with his undesirable attendance to-night.” - -In ordinary circumstances the Sea Scouts slept like logs. Already they -were quite hardened to lying on bare boards. To-night for the first time -since their arrival at Polkebo Creek, they were sleeping either on bunks -extending the whole length and both sides of the main saloon or in -hammocks slung from the beams. Yet, in spite of the great improvement in -comfort, they showed no inclination for repose. They chattered, -discussing a suitable name for their mascot and going over the events of -that memorable evening until Mr. Grant’s voice, coming from the -adjoining cabin, bade them keep quiet. - -After that the silence was broken only by the whimpering of the puppy. -She, too, was doubtless going through the terrifying time when she was -struggling under water weighted down by a stone. - -It was not until Peter Craddock put his arm over the side of his bunk -and stroked the now soft, silky hair that the little animal quieted -down. Licking the hand of her rescuer, she gave a little sigh of -gratification and confidence and dropped into a sound slumber. - -Bodily tired though he was, Peter simply could not sleep. He lay -thinking and thinking—which is a jolly bad symptom in a healthy youth. -He was puzzling his brains to decide upon a suitable name for the -_Kestrel’s_ mascot. - -Presently he realised that fine rain was falling on the tarpaulin placed -over the uncompleted cabin-top. It was a strange sort of rain—falling -intermittently. It smelt strange, too. - -“Petrol!” thought the lad. - -He sniffed suspiciously. This surmise was confirmed. The interior of the -cabin was reeking with the fumes of that highly inflammable spirit. - -In a flash the Sea Scout’s mind was alert. - -There could be but one solution to the mystery. Blueskin, utterly -reckless in his mad desire to revenge himself, was spraying petrol on -the yacht’s deck. At any moment a lighted match thrown by the miscreant -on the quayside would make the _Kestrel_ a mass of flaming woodwork. - - - - - CHAPTER III - An All-Night Watch - - -Peter Craddock had to decide promptly upon his plan of action. Two -courses suggested themselves: either to arouse Mr. Grant and give the -alarm, or else to scare the miscreant away. - -He decided upon the latter plan. Too much valuable time would be wasted -in waking the Scoutmaster. More than likely the other Sea Scouts would -be roused; and then, if one of them struck a match, the highly explosive -mixture of air and petrol in the cabin would go up with terrific force. -No; his best plan would be to frighten away the cowardly rogue, who was -certainly counting upon the supposition that the crew of the _Kestrel_ -were sleeping soundly, in order to carry out his diabolical plan. - -Grasping an electric torch that he always kept within hand’s reach -during the night watches, Peter slipped out of his bunk, glided -noiselessly out of the cabin, and gained the cockpit. Then, directing -the torch towards the quay, he released a dazzling ray. - -He was too late to spot the miscreant. In spite of the Sea Scout’s -cautious movements, the man had heard the disturbing sounds. Afraid to -complete his dastardly work, the fellow had taken to his heels. Peter -could hear his boots clattering upon the stone paving. - -It was now almost dead low water. The _Kestrel_ was high and dry, -supported by legs and lying parallel to and at a distance of a couple of -yards from the quay, the edge of which rose quite eight feet above the -deck. Consequently the quay served as a ridge to prevent the rays of -Peter’s torch sweeping the whole extent of the open expanse between the -line of cottages and the creek. - -By the time Craddock had gained the cabin-top, whence he could command a -view of the adjoining ground, the fellow had disappeared. Although this -escape of the miscreant was a disappointment, Peter realised that his -hideous plans had been frustrated. - -“Who’s there?” enquired Mr. Grant’s voice from the cabin. Aroused by -Craddock’s movements—and it is remarkable how plainly the faintest -sound can be heard on deck when only three-quarters of an inch of -matchboarding intervenes—the Scoutmaster sat up, listening intently. -Evidently the fumes of the petrol had not as yet penetrated the bulkhead -separating his cabin from the one in which the seven Sea Scouts slept. - -Before replying Peter re-entered the saloon. As he did so the puppy gave -an aggressive growl. Brandon woke up. - -“Phew!” he ejaculated. “What a whiff!” - -“It is,” agreed Peter. “Turn out, old son, and rouse the others. Don’t -let any of them strike a light. The place is chock full of petrol -fumes.” - -“What’s that—petrol fumes?” demanded Mr. Grant from the partitioned-off -cabin. - -“Yes, sir,” replied Craddock. “Can you come on deck? I’ve a torch -handy.” - -By this time the other Sea Scouts with one exception were “beginning to -sit up and take notice.” During the process, Talbot, who was sleeping in -a hammock, bumped his head against a deck beam. His swaying -resting-place swayed still more, slinging him out and depositing him on -one of the bunks where Wilson was sleeping soundly. Mutual protests -arose only to be checked by the Patrol Leader, who bade the pair, “Stow -that row and get your things on.” - -Meanwhile Mr. Grant had hurriedly dressed. Making sure that every lad -realised the supreme importance of refraining from striking a match, he -told Brandon, Craddock, Heavitree, and Carline to follow him while the -others dispersed the dangerous fumes from the interior of the saloon. - -“Which way did the fellow go, Peter?” asked Mr. Grant. - -Craddock told him. - -“Away from his cottage, then,” continued the Scoutmaster. “Good! We’ll -picket the place. A scoundrel like that deserves all he gets; but it’s -just possible that he didn’t realise what might have happened. His idea -might have been to set the yacht on fire and give us a scare. He may not -know the properties of air and petrol as an explosive mixture. Although -he only squirted the petrol on the tarpaulin on the cabin-top, the -fumes, being heavier than the atmosphere, settled inside the boat.” - -Accompanied by the four Sea Scouts, Mr. Grant made his way to Carlo -Bone’s cottage, a ramshackle stone structure of two storeys situated -about a hundred yards from the furthermost row of houses that formed the -hamlet of Polkebo. At the back was a neglected garden of about a quarter -of an acre in extent and enclosed by a low wall of ashlar masonry. There -were two doors to the cottage, one opening directly upon the street, and -gained by a flight of eight stone steps; the other led into the garden -and was also reached by steps. The windows were small, heavily barred, -and so high from the ground that it was impossible for anyone to see in -without the aid of a ladder. - -“It wants an hour and a half to sunrise,” remarked Mr. Grant, after he -had consulted the luminous dial of his wristlet watch. “Possibly Mr. -Bone will return before then. I doubt whether he has had time to do so -already. In any case, we’ll investigate.” - -Posting Brandon and Heavitree at the front of the cottage, Mr. Grant -followed by Craddock and Carline, scaled the low wall and crept up to -the back door. The Scoutmaster flashed his torch upon the latch. A -spider had built a web across the door. The air was warm and saturated -with dew, and glistening particles of moisture hung from the undisturbed -web. In fact, webs abounded. Almost every tree and shrub was festooned -with them. - -Obviously Blueskin had not re-entered his cottage by that door. -Satisfied on that ground, Mr. Grant withdrew with his companions. The -garden was, after all, private property. Legally the would-be victims -were trespassing. In addition, they were laying themselves open to an -act of violence should Carlo Bone return and find them there. The -poacher, according to report, would not hesitate to use a gun or a knife -should he find himself cornered. - -Mr. Grant, however, had no wish to corner the fellow. For the present he -wanted to be in a position to prove that Blueskin was the perpetrator of -the outrage and a step in that direction was to be able to make certain -that the man was away from his cottage. If so, on his return he would be -almost sure to bring with him the reek of petrol, even if he had got rid -of the implements by which he had sprayed the fluid. - -“Now, you fellows,” he said in a low voice, addressing Craddock and -Carline, “I want you to keep a sharp look-out on the back of the -cottage. Take cover, and keep your eyes and ears on the alert.” - -“And if he shows up, sir, do we tackle him?” asked Peter. - -“Rather not; that’s a job for the police. I’ll look you up occasionally. -I’ll see what Brandon and Heavitree are doing.” - -Before rejoining the Sea Scouts posted in concealment in the front of -the building, Mr. Grant examined the front door. Here, as in the case of -the back entrance, the presence of an undisturbed spider’s web gave -conclusive proof that Blueskin had not entered the cottage by that -means. Since he could not do so through the barred windows, the -inference was that he was still away. - -For the rest of the hours of darkness, the Scoutmaster divided his time -between the _Kestrel_ and the two observation posts. Everything seemed -quiet. No sound came from either within or without the darkened cottage. -If Carlo Bone were to return, it seemed probable that he would do so -before dawn in order to avoid recognition from any of the early risers -of the hamlet. - -At length grey dawn paled in the north-eastern sky. The birds began -singing, cocks crowed. The mist over the creek drifted slowly in the -faint air-currents. In one of the cottages smoke began to issue from the -squat stone chimney. - -At sunrise the Scoutmaster withdrew his observers, replacing Craddock -and Heavitree by Symington and Talbot. Wilson took Carline’s place, but -Craddock asked to be allowed to remain. - -From the cottages men went forth unto their work and to their labour. On -the rising tide the fishing boats put out. By five o’clock the whole -place was astir. - -Mr. Grant was frankly disappointed. The only result of the Sea Scouts’ -vigil was, in his opinion, that they had proved that Carlo Bone had not -returned to his cottage. - -“It’s no use waiting any longer, lads,” he said. “We’ll get -breakfast—you must all be ravenous—and then I’ll see the police.” - -Even as he spoke, the front door of the cottage opened and Blueskin -appeared. He was fully dressed, even to his cap and leather thigh-boots, -while across one shoulder he carried a painted canvas sack. Both eyes -were badly discoloured, and the scowling look he gave to the Sea Scouts -added still further to the repulsiveness of his features. Once he paused -as if he were about to utter a jibe, but thinking better of it, he -trudged stolidly up the lane leading to the high road between Truro and -Falmouth. - -“We’ve been on the wrong tack this time, lads,” declared the -Scoutmaster. “He’s been in his cottage all the time. Of course, he may -have a confederate in this business: that we’ll have to find out or get -the police to see to. Meanwhile, breakfast, and then all hands turn in. -It’s spoilt our working day, I’m afraid.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - Investigations - - -The Scoutmaster was perfectly correct in his surmise. Progress as far as -the work on the _Kestrel_ was concerned was virtually at a standstill -for that day. There were limits to the Sea Scouts’ powers of endurance. -The loss of a night’s rest following upon an exciting day was not to be -made up by a few hours’ sleep during the forenoon. - -There was little rest for Mr. Grant. After breakfast his first visit was -to the police station to report the case of attempted arson. The -inspector listened with ill-concealed incredulity until somewhat -reluctantly the Scoutmaster mentioned the name of Carlo Bone. - -“I wish to goodness you were certain that was the fellow!” exclaimed the -inspector. “We’ve been wanting to lay him by the heels for months past, -but we can never fix him. He’s as slippery as an eel. You say he -assaulted one of your lads and got knocked down in the process. Knowing -the man, I’ve no doubt but what he will try to score off you.” - -“Possibly,” agreed Mr. Grant. “We felt so sure that he was the fellow -that we kept watch on his cottage all night. He didn’t go into the -place. There were indisputable signs to show that neither of the doors -had been open for some hours. At daybreak, or just after, he emerged -from the cottage and went off.” - -“H’m!” ejaculated the inspector. “On the face of it, Carlo Bone could -easily establish an alibi. I know the cottage. The windows are as -heavily barred as a prison. Yet, knowing Bone as I do, it wouldn’t -surprise me to—— By the by, have you missed any gear? No? Well, that’s -rather unfortunate in a way. Had you done so, we would examine the -cottage inside and out on the strength of a search warrant.” - -“Do you think he has had an accomplice?” asked the Scoutmaster. - -The inspector shook his head. - -“I don’t think so,” he replied. “At least, not at Polkebo and district. -He’s not popular with his neighbours, and they’d welcome the news that -he’s doing a stretch. You are quite sure that it was petrol that was -squirted over your yacht? Did you test the stuff?” - -“If you mean did we set light to it to see if it would burn—no,” -answered Mr. Grant. “Apart from that the indications were unmistakable.” - -“I’ll send a constable down to keep an eye on things,” decided the -inspector. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble when he’s about.” - -Mr. Grant thanked the police official and set off back to the boat. He -was not at all easy in his mind. The situation in a nutshell was this: -Some person or persons unknown had been guilty of a dastardly attempt to -injure the lads under his care. Blueskin might be, and probably was, -innocent of any knowledge of the matter. The miscreant might be a -homicidal lunatic or a person harbouring an imaginary grudge against the -crew of the _Kestrel_. - -The Scoutmaster was within fifty yards of Carlo Bone’s cottage when the -toe of his boot kicked against a metallic object hidden in the long -grass by the side of the path. He stopped and pulled aside the shoots. -There, with one end overhanging a shallow dry ditch, was a garden -syringe. The brasswork was dull, but not tarnished. The rim of the -jet-nozzle was fairly bright, showing that at no distant date someone -had had to use considerable force to remove it from the threaded end of -the barrel. - -Cautiously Mr. Grant removed the plunger and smelt the inside of the -barrel. There were no fumes of petrol, but—significant fact—the -leather washer, which usually is well saturated with oil, was bone dry. -Had the syringe been used for squirting water the leather would have -retained its dampness. - -Mr. Grant’s next step was to go to the “Dog and Gun,” and ask for Silas -Pescold, the landlord. Silas was a respected man in the little village, -and one who would be likely to identify the syringe. - -He did without hesitation. - -“Sure, zur,” he exclaimed. “Yes, Dick Marner’s. Many’s the time I’ve -borried et of him.” - -“Marner? That’s the man who walks lame, doesn’t he?” - -“Yes, zur; ’e broke ’is thigh come twenty year agone aboard the old -_Sarah_. Sin’ then, seeing as ’e’s no good in the boats, ’e’s been doin’ -odd gardenin’ jobs for the quality hereabouts. Like as not you’ll find -him up-along. ’E lives in t’end cottage past the quay.” - -The end cottage past the quay! It was in this direction that the -miscreant had made off when Peter Craddock interrupted his operations. - -Marner was at home. It was one of his bad days. The easterly wind -generally affected his damaged hip. - -“Is this your property?” asked Mr. Grant, holding up the syringe for -inspection. - -“Sure, ’tes, zur,” assented the old chap without hesitation. “If you’m -wishful tu borrer ut you’m kindly welcome.” - -“I haven’t come to borrow it, Mr. Marner,” rejoined Mr. Grant. “I’m here -to return it to you. I found it up the lane. Silas Pescold told me it -was yours.” - -The old man puckered up his eye in astonishment. - -“Found ’ut up-along, did ’e, zur?” he exclaimed. “That be tur’ble queer, -seein’ as I locked ut in the shed las’ night.” - -“At about what time?” - -“Afore it wur dark, zur.” - -“Evidently someone has broken into the shed,” remarked Mr. Grant. “Have -you been there to-day? Perhaps it would be as well if you did. I’ll come -with you, if I may?” - -The old man led the way up a steeply sloping garden. In a corner formed -by the junction of two hedges was a tumble-down structure composed of -boats’ planking, weatherboards, corrugated iron, and tarred felt. The -lock was in position, but it was one of those cheap varieties which -could easily be picked by means of a piece of bent wire. - -Marner threw open the door. Within were a number of gardening tools, a -pile of old sacks, a motor bicycle, and two tins of petrol. - -“That’s where I kept un,” declared Marner. “It be gone, as ye see, zur. -Nothin’ else be touched as far as I can see.” - -“Evidently someone borrowed it and lost it,” said the Scoutmaster. -“That’s a nice motor bike: you don’t ride it, do you, Mr. Marner?” - -The old man chuckled wheezily. - -“Not wi’ this leg, zur. Yes, tes my boy Richard’s; same name as mine ’e -be called. ’E wur a Scout same as your lads.” - -“Well, I hope Master Richard isn’t mixed up in this business,” thought -the Scoutmaster; then, aloud: “He’s not a Scout now, is he?” - -Marner chuckled again. - -“’E’s mate aboard th’ tawps’l schooner _Huterp_ o’ Fowey,” he announced -proudly. “She’s gone foreign wi’ a cargo o’ clay. Where eggsackly I -can’t remember like. Reckon she’s about due back come a week or so; an’ -if so happen you’m still hereabouts ye might see ’im.” - -Mr. Grant gave a sigh of relief. It was with no slight degree of -satisfaction that he realised the impossibility of Dick Marner, ex-Scout -and the apple of the father’s eye, being implicated in this unpleasant -business. - -The while he was conversing with the old man, Mr. Grant kept his eyes -wide open. There was nothing of the nature of a clue as far as the shed -was concerned. The floor was of hard trodden clay. No tell-tale -footprints had left their mark. Both petrol cans, judging by the -undisturbed dust on them, had not been touched since Richard Marner, -junior, had shipped on board the topsail schooner _Euterpe_ of Fowey. -But obviously the fellow who had broken into the shed knew his bearings. -He was aware that there was a syringe; he wanted it, so he went to work -to take it without disturbing anything else. - -“Do you know of any of your neighbours who would borrow the syringe -without asking you if they might?” enquired the Scoutmaster. - -“No, zur,” replied Marner. “But why’m you so askifying? You’m -questionin’ me same as if I wur a pickpocket at Bodmin Fair.” - -It was a perfectly reasonable request. In the circumstances, Mr. Grant -realised that it was only fair to old Marner to explain the facts that -led up to his visit. - -“An’ you’m come here thinkin’ as ’ow my son Dick had a-set fire to your -boat?” demanded old Marner angrily. - -Mr. Grant hastened to pour uninflammable oil upon troubled waters. In -this he ultimately succeeded, and, taking leave of the old man, he -returned to the _Kestrel_. So far his investigation had drawn blank; -but, he reflected, his task was to prevent a repetition of the dastardly -attempt. The detection of the offender might well be left in the hands -of the police. - - - - - CHAPTER V - Adrift - - -For the next six or seven days the work of getting the _Kestrel_ ready -for sea proceeded apace. The final coat of paint had been applied and -was now dry. Sails had been bent; running rigging overhauled and rove; -extra ballast in the form of iron pigs had been stowed under the floor. -Fresh water and provisions had been brought on board, and although there -remained a considerable amount of “finishing off” work to be done, the -_Kestrel_ was in a fit and seaworthy condition to attempt her voyage up -Channel. - -No other disquieting incident had occurred during the period, while to -add to the serenity of the situation definite information had been -received that Blueskin Bone had shipped on board a tramp steamer at -Falmouth and was now on his way to Rotterdam. - -Meanwhile the _Kestrel’s_ mascot had been making steady progress. After -much deliberation the Sea Scouts had decided to bestow the name of Molly -upon the little animal. She was no longer the terrified, half-drowned -puppy that Peter had rescued from the dark waters of the creek. Her -coat, carefully combed and brushed, had acquired a gloss; her ribs were -no longer painfully in evidence. Already she realised that a human hand -could be something else than a means of imparting pain, although it was -some time before she ceased to cringe in fear of a possible unwarranted -thrashing. - -“I wish Molly would be a little bit livelier,” remarked Peter. “I’ve -never seen such a sedate pup.” - -“Don’t you worry, old son,” rejoined Brandon. “She’s all right. P’raps -before long she’ll be too lively, even for you. How about a collar for -her?” - -“Later on,” decided Craddock. “If she had one now she’d grow out of it -in a week or so. I’ll make one when we’re under way. As it is, we -haven’t a minute to spare.” - -That was a fact. Time was getting on, and there was still much to be -done if the _Kestrel_ were to sail in company with the _Merlin_. - -At length the eve of the eventful day arrived. To-morrow at the hour of -ten in the morning the voyage up Channel was timed to commence, that -hour being fixed to enable both yachts to take advantage of the first of -the east-going tide. - -The _Kestrel_, glistening in her new coat of paint, looked very -different from the half-completed craft the Sea Scouts had taken over -only a short while ago. She was now a ketch-rigged yacht with a spacious -cockpit and ample accommodation under her cabin-top. Her original sails -had been altered to form a serviceable and yet moderate spread of -canvas. The only thing wanting was a motor; but, as Craddock observed, -“Drake hadn’t a motor when he sailed round the world; so we ought to -manage to find our way up Channel without one.” - -“All the same I wish we had an engine,” said Carline. “The _Kestrel_ is -a whopping lump of a craft to move in a dead calm.” - -“We may get a motor some day,” added Mr. Grant. “When we’ve been -shipmates with one the lack of an engine seems a serious matter. We must -cut our coat according to our cloth, you know. Now, lads, the tide’s -making well. We’re nearly afloat, so get busy.” - -The _Kestrel_ was to be taken from Polkebo Creek that evening and sailed -down to a berth off Greenbank at Falmouth, where the _Merlin_ was lying, -in order that both craft might start together. - -Almost everyone in Polkebo turned out to see the _Kestrel_ start, for -with one exception (and he, it was to be hoped, was far away) the -inhabitants of the hamlet were on excellent terms with the Aberstour Sea -Scouts. There was also much speculation on the part of the professional -seafaring folk as to how the amateur-altered ex-Service launch, manned -chiefly by lads in their teens, would be handled. - -Although there was a steady leading wind the houses and trees blanketed -most of it; so without difficulty canvas was set, sheets overrun, and -all preparation made before the rising tide floated the yacht off. - -“She’ll do it now, lads,” exclaimed Mr. Grant. “Head-sheet to wind’ard, -then! Cast off for’ard!” - -The _Kestrel_ held only by the stern-warp, swung slowly on her heel. She -was afloat all right. - -“Let go aft!” ordered the Scoutmaster. “Trim your fore and jib sheets.” - -Almost imperceptibly the _Kestrel_, steady as a rock, gathered way. The -crowd ashore cheered. The Sea Scouts responded lustily. The gap between -the yacht and the quay widened. The water began to ripple under the -yacht’s forefoot. She heeled to the strengthening breeze. - -“Take her, Brandon,” said Mr. Grant, relinquishing the tiller. “She’ll -do.” - -Against the still flowing tide the _Kestrel_ made steady progress. She -was “as stiff as a house,” and showed a decided tendency to carry -weather-helm—a qualification that all craft under sail must possess if -they are to be accounted seaworthy. - -In less than half an hour the _Kestrel_ hove-to within fifty yards of -the _Merlin_, on which Scoutmaster Pendennis and his crew of hefty -Cornish Sea Scouts were awaiting their approach. - -“Sorry there are no moorings for you!” hailed Mr. Pendennis. “Let go -your anchor. Tide’s slackening. She’ll ride head to wind all right.” - -The anchor was dropped, sails stowed, riding light trimmed ready to be -hoisted at sunset. For the rest of the evening the crews “palled up,” -some of the _Kestrel’s_ going aboard the _Merlin_, while a part of the -latter’s complement came over to the _Kestrel_. - -At sunset the Sea Scouts returned to their respective craft, had supper, -and turned in. Giving a final look round and satisfying himself that the -riding-light was burning clearly, Mr. Grant followed the example of his -crew. - -“No need to turn out before seven,” he announced. “Get in a good night’s -rest while you’ve the chance. You never know when you’ll get another -when we’re under way.” - -Peter Craddock was the first to awake. A pale grey light was filtering -through the skylight. The _Kestrel_ was rolling slightly, and the dinghy -had just commenced to bump alongside. - -“Turn of the tide, I expect,” thought the lad drowsily. “It can’t be -much more than five o’clock. Too soon to turn out.” - -Casually he glanced at his watch; looked again and then held it to his -ear. It was ticking merrily. The hands pointed to twenty minutes past -seven. By that time it ought to be broad daylight. It wasn’t. - -Somewhat mystified, Peter rolled out of his bunk and went on deck. To -his surprise a thick fog enveloped everything. From the companion ladder -it was only just possible to discern the lower part of the mizzen-mast -looking grotesquely distorted in the watery haze. An uncanny silence -prevailed. No sounds came from the near-by town. Then the distant wail -of a syren came through the mist. - -According to the state of the tide, the _Kestrel_ should be riding to -the last of the ebb. How came it then that the dinghy, instead of -straining at her painter, was rubbing alongside the yacht’s quarter? - -“Something wrong,” muttered Peter, and making his way for’ard along the -damp and clammy waterway, he gained the bows. Then he felt the cable. -The chain came up easily, and no wonder; for instead of there being ten -fathoms of it, terminating in a seventy-pound anchor, only a dozen links -or so were trailing uselessly through the hawse-pipe. - -The _Kestrel_ was adrift in a thick sea fog, and at the mercy of the -swirling tide. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - In the Fog - - -“Turn out, you fellows!” shouted Craddock. “All hands on deck! We’ve -parted our cable, and there’s a heavy fog on.” - -The rest of the crew tumbled out of their bunks and hammocks and hurried -into their clothes. They accepted Peter’s statement without any -hesitation, for it was one of the few hard-and-fast rules on board that -on no account was a false alarm to be knowingly raised. Skylarking in -its proper place was encouraged and harmless practical joking permitted; -but each Sea Scout had been impressed with the seriousness of the harm -that might occur by raising the nautical equivalent to the shout of -“’Ware Wolf!” when there was not one. - -In various stages of “undress uniform,” Scoutmaster and Sea Scouts -gained the deck. The lads remained silent, waiting for Mr. Grant’s -orders. He was frankly puzzled. The _Kestrel_ had been anchored -surrounded by yachts and boats in the crowded anchorage of Greenbank. It -seemed incredible that she should have drifted any distance without -fouling some of the craft in the tideway. - -Craddock had reported that the cable had parted. Mr. Grant hoped that -such was not the case. He had known of anchors being dropped with one of -the flukes caught in the bobstay and with only the bight of the chain -resting on the bottom. He rather wished such was the case now. - -“Get the fog-horn, Wilson,” he ordered. “Two blasts about every minute, -please. And, Craddock, you might heave the lead. The others prepare to -make sail.” - -Groping his way for’ard, for the fog was so thick that even the still -burning riding-lamp ten feet above the deck was invisible, Mr. Grant -grasped the cable and hauled in the slack. One look was sufficient. The -last of the remaining links had been deliberately cut through with a -hack-saw. The rest of the chain, together with the anchor, was lying on -the bed of Falmouth Harbour—miles away, probably. - -It was no time for feelings of resentment and anger. The Scoutmaster -came aft. - -“What water have we?” he asked. - -“No bottom, sir,” reported Peter. - -Mr. Grant gave an involuntary gasp of astonishment. The lead-line, 25 -fathoms, or 150 feet, in length, was insufficient to touch the bed of -the sea. - -“Bend another line to it,” he continued. - -“I’m doing it already, sir,” announced Craddock. - -“Good! . . . Now, how much?” - -“Another four fathoms, sir,” reported the leadsman. - -The Scoutmaster was on the point of going below, when Wilson stopped -him. - -“Why are we to give two blasts, sir?” he enquired. “Oughtn’t we to sound -a bell or something like that? We’re supposed to be at anchor.” - -Even in his worried state of mind, Mr. Grant did not hesitate to reply. - -“It puzzled me what signal to make at first,” he answered. “Although we -were anchored—that is to say, I thought we were—the _Kestrel_ had -obviously moved. In that case we are under way, and although we haven’t -yet made sail, what wind there is is on our port beam. Consequently it -is assumed that we are on the port tack; therefore, two blasts.” - -“Where are we, sir?” asked Carline. - -“That’s what I want to find out,” replied Mr. Grant. “I’m going below to -look at the chart.” - -Within the saloon the light was so dim that the lamp had to be lighted -before it was possible to read the minute figures on the chart. Very -soon the Scoutmaster’s worst fears were confirmed. Nowhere within -Falmouth Harbour is a depth of twenty-nine fathoms to be obtained, even -at the top of high-water springs. Obviously, then, the _Kestrel_ had -drifted with the tide right out of the harbour without colliding with -any other craft and fortunately clearing the dangerous Black Rock that -lies in the mouth of the harbour and approximately midway between the -projecting arms of Pendennis and St. Anthony. According to the -soundings, the _Kestrel_ was somewhere on a line extending from the -dreaded Manacles to the Dodman, and might be anywhere between those -points, a distance of approximately fifteen sea-miles. - -It was not an envious position for the _Kestrel_ to be in. There was no -wind, but a very heavy fog. She might or might not be in the way of -vessels making for or leaving Falmouth Harbour. If she drifted -northwards she would sooner or later pile herself up upon the iron-bound -coast. The same condition would apply if she drifted west’ard. Provided -a breeze sprung up, the best course was to make for the open Channel, -but even then there was a risk of being run down in the busy steamer -track that passed a few miles to the south’ard of the Lizard. To attempt -to grope their way back to Falmouth, starting from an absolutely unknown -position, was out of the question. - -Effectually concealing his anxiety, Mr. Grant returned on deck. By this -time the Sea Scouts, under Patrol Leader Brandon’s direction, had set -all plain sail. Fortunately Frank had remembered the invisible -riding-light on the forestay. - -In the flat calm, although there was a light swell on, the canvas hung -idly. From the cockpit only a part of the mainsail as far as the upper -line of reef-points and a small portion of the mizzen were visible. The -rest was swallowed up in the fog. - -“This is the worst fog we’ve struck,” remarked Craddock, as he coiled up -the lead-line for another cast. - -“It is,” agreed the Scoutmaster. “Luckily we’ve plenty of sea-room.” - -“Plenty of sea-room, sir?” echoed Peter. “Where are we?” - -“That, exactly, I don’t know,” confessed Mr. Grant frankly. “What I do -know is that we’ve drifted right out of Falmouth Harbour and are in the -English Channel. As a rule fogs don’t last very long at this time of -year. When the sun is well up there’ll be a breeze and the mist will -disperse. Meanwhile we must take things as we find them and be thankful -they are no worse.” - -“I wonder what the _Merlin_ is doing,” remarked Brandon. - -“Still on her moorings, I expect,” hazarded Heavitree. “They’ll think -we’ve given them the slip.” - -“If the fog’s anything like it is here they won’t know we’ve gone,” -rejoined the Patrol Leader. “Unless they hail us,” he added as an -afterthought. “Wonder why the cable parted? We tested it carefully when -we stowed it aboard the first time.” - -“This is the reason,” announced Mr. Grant, producing the cut link from -his pocket. “Someone has been monkeying about with the chain. It has -been deliberately cut through with a hack-saw. When and by whom remains -a question.” - -“Blueskin?” enquired Symington and Talbot simultaneously. - -“Perhaps, but unlikely,” replied the Scoutmaster. “I’m basing my idea -upon the assumption that Carlo Bone has had a sea training. Some -miscreant, probably the fellow who squirted petrol over the _Kestrel_, -has an imaginary grievance against us. He’s been trying to destroy the -yacht by the most underhanded methods imaginable. Failing to set her on -fire, he cut through this link, knowing that it would still bear any -ordinary strain, but not a heavy one. He was counting upon the cable -parting while we were riding at anchor in some harbour during a stiff -gale. Now, a seaman wouldn’t cut a link in that fashion—with the cut -away from the yacht’s bows. He would saw through the other end of the -link so that when it did part it would go with the outboard portion of -the cable, and thus cover up all trace of his underhand work.” - -“But it might have been Blueskin,” remarked Wilson. - -“Yes, it might,” agreed Mr. Grant, “but having misjudged him once I -don’t feel justified in laying the blame upon him. Not that we are -likely to discover the culprit. Now I think we might see about a -somewhat belated breakfast.” - -While Talbot and Wilson, “the cooks of the day,” went below to prepare -the meal, the others set about various tasks on deck. Craddock continued -to heave the lead at about five minutes’ intervals, the soundings -remaining fairly regular. Carline took over the manipulation of the -fog-horn, standing by the now useless tiller in case a puff of wind -should bear down through the barrier of fog. - -Brandon and Heavitree assisted the Scoutmaster to bend the cable to the -kedge. Fortunately there still remained between fifteen and twenty -fathoms of the former, but in the absence of a long link there was no -means of shackling it direct to the kedge—a small anchor of about -twenty-five pounds in weight. Consequently the chain had to be made fast -to the ring in the kedge by a “fisherman’s bend,” the end being stopped -with wire to guard against any possibility of the knot slipping. - -“Brekker nearly ready?” enquired Brandon, calling through the open -skylight. - -“It is,” replied Talbot, “but you won’t get any till you’ve cleared up -below.” - -“By Jove!” exclaimed the Patrol Leader, “I’d forgotten that! Come on, -lads; let’s square up and make all ship-shape below.” - -The saloon was in a bit of an untidy state. The Sea Scouts on their -hurried exit for the deck had tumbled out of bunks and hammocks, leaving -the former littered with blankets and the latter swaying to and fro from -the deck-beams. The bedding was passed out, shaken, and folded; the -hammocks unshipped and stowed in their accustomed places when not in -use. Quickly the disordered saloon assumed a semblance of tidiness. - -“Where’s Molly?” enquired Brandon. - -No one knew. She had been last seen asleep in a box under Craddock’s -bunk. - -All hands below joined in the search. They called the pup by name, -hunted high and low, but without success. - -“S’pose she wasn’t in one of the blankets when we shook them overboard?” -suggested Heavitree. - -“Now you mention it, I think I did hear a sort of splash,” said -Symington. “It was too thick to see.” - -“Let’s hope not,” continued Heavitree. “She’s not big enough to climb -the companion ladder.” - -“What’s the matter, lads?” enquired Mr. Grant, entering the cabin and -removing his dripping cap. - -“We’ve lost Molly, sir,” announced Brandon dolefully. - -The Scoutmaster sat down on one of the settees. As he did so a growl of -protest came from the neighbourhood of his back. Turning, he raised one -of the side-cushions. There, in a small recess formed between the two -cushions, was the missing pup together with about nine-tenths of a shoe. - -“Peter, old man!” sang out the Patrol Leader, “Molly’s been lost. We’ve -found her making a meal of your shoe. Jolly careless of you to leave -your gear all over the place.” - -Craddock, from whom the news of his special pet’s disappearance had been -hitherto kept, temporarily abandoned his sounding operations and came -below. - -“Naughty pup!” he said reprovingly. - -Molly, no wise daunted, looked fearlessly up into her master’s face and -struggled to give him a lick of devotion and affection. - -“She wouldn’t be so brave a week ago,” remarked Brandon. “Don’t hit her, -Peter.” - -“No fear,” replied his chum. Then he critically examined the damaged -footgear. - -“Strikes me, old son, you’ve made a slight mistake,” he continued, -addressing Brandon. “It’s not my shoe; it’s yours.” - -The others roared at the Patrol Leader’s discomfiture, but Brandon took -it in good part. - -“That shows Molly’s sense of discrimination,” he retorted, taking the -shoe from Peter’s hand. “It’s one of my second best. Where’s the other -one, I wonder?” - -He searched and discovered it in his kit-bag, together with one of his -best shore-going pair. A further hunt failed to find the other. Molly, -with her sense of discrimination, had taken two odd ones from the Patrol -Leader’s kit-bag, and of these one had been thrown overboard by -Symington when he had shaken out his blankets. To make matters worse the -odd shoes were both lefts. - -Breakfast was dispatched in grand style. The Sea Scouts were in high -spirits. The fact that they were surrounded by fog hardly troubled them. -They were afloat in one of the soundest craft imaginable for her size, -and, what was more, they were bound for the Jamboree. If necessary they -had sufficient provisions and fresh water for a week. - -Nor was Mr. Grant perturbed. Now that he realised the _Kestrel_ had -plenty of sea-room, he had little to worry about. On a still day such as -this, sounds could be heard for quite a long distance, and since the -continual roar of the Channel swell against the iron-bound coast was -inaudible he knew that any danger of the yacht being cast ashore by the -strong and intricate currents of the district was a remote one. - -Noon came, bringing with it no breeze to disperse the dense pall of -mist. At times the fog lifted sufficiently to enable the bowsprit-end to -be seen; at others it was a matter of difficulty to distinguish objects -six feet away. - -The while the _Kestrel_ was underlying in the game of “chasing her own -tail.” Absolutely drifting in a dead calm, she was powerless to answer -to her helm. Her bows swung round very slowly through every point of the -compass and continued to do so. Yet the while, judging by the drag of -the lead-line when allowed to remain in the bottom, she was being swept -in an easterly direction by the two-knot tide. Well away to the -south’ard came an almost continual braying of many sirens. The steamer -track was as yet a safe distance off. - -By two in the afternoon the crew began to find time hang heavily on -their hands. The reaction of having nothing definite to do following -upon days of strenuous activity from morn to night was telling. They -could see nothing beyond the limits of their floating home, and hardly -that. There was plenty to be done by way of “finishing off” various jobs -below, but the light was too dim to enable anything in that line to be -attempted. They coiled down or “flemished” every rope on deck, spun -yarns, tried to teach their overfed and decidedly sleepy mascot various -tricks—all without success. - -“Wish the fog would lift,” remarked Carline. - -“And a breeze spring up,” added Heavitree, looking wistfully at the idle -canvas. - -The Scoutmaster, too, was puzzled, not only by the persistency of the -fog, but by the absence of sound from any of the shore signal stations. -In vain he kept listening for the fog signals from the Lizard. That -dangerous headland might be only a few miles away and yet the sound be -inaudible. Fog, he knew, plays strange tricks with sound. Frequently -there are zones of silence over which sounds leap to be distinctly -audible at a long distance beyond the source of emission. All he knew -concerning the _Kestrel’s_ position was that she was drifting slowly in -a south-easterly direction, but that on the turn of the Channel -tide—which by no means coincided with the time of high and low water on -the shore—the yacht would be swept in the reverse direction and -possibly be driven aground on the dangerous coast between the Lizard and -the Manacles. - -No wonder he wished fervently for the fog to lift. - -The hours passed slowly. It was not until nearly eight o’clock that a -faint breeze ruffled the water and the wall of vapour began to disperse. - -“Hurrah! a breeze!” exclaimed Brandon, as the hitherto idly-playing main -boom swung out and tugged gently at the mainsheet. - -“What course, sir?” asked the Patrol Leader, as the _Kestrel_ gathered -way. - -“Sou’-sou’-east,” replied Mr. Grant. “It’ll mean a night afloat, lads.” - -“Good egg!” ejaculated Heavitree. - -The Scoutmaster wasn’t so sure about it. Possibly there would be half a -gale of wind when the fog did disperse; and until it did the _Kestrel_ -must have plenty of sea-room. To attempt to make a strange harbour in a -mist and with only a few remaining hours of daylight was asking for -trouble. - -The breeze held; but the mist, although diminishing in density, -continued to hang about in irregular patches. - -“Keep your eyes skinned, lads!” continued Mr. Grant. “We ought to be -seeing land on our port quarter.” - -“Sail ahead!” sang out Craddock. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - The Derelict - - -“Down helm!” ordered Brandon, in his capacity of officer of the -starboard watch. “At that! Keep her so!” - -The _Kestrel_, answering readily to a slight pressure on the tiller, -changed her course to bring the other craft on her port bow. - -“If we pass within hailing distance they might be able to give us our -position,” remarked the Patrol Leader. - -Quickly the stranger loomed up in the dispersing mist, for by this time -visibility extended to nearly a quarter of a mile. She turned out to be -a schooner. Her topsails were furled, but her fore and aft canvas was -set, the head-sails being to wind’ard. Under these conditions she was -“hove-to” with a decided list to port. - -As a precautionary measure the _Kestrel_ announced her approach by three -blasts of her fog-horn, for the wind was well abaft the beam. No reply -came from the schooner. - -“Careless look-out, what?” observed Peter. - -“I fancy there’s something amiss,” replied Brandon. “There doesn’t seem -to be anyone on board. What shall we do, sir?” - -Mr. Grant, thus appealed to, shook his head. - -“You’re standing your trick, Brandon,” he replied. “Officially I’m not -on duty. Use your own discretion.” - -The Patrol Leader warmed at the implied compliment. He knew the -Scoutmaster’s views. As far as prudence dictated, Mr. Grant left the -seamanship entirely to his youthful crew. It was the best way to enable -them to gain confidence in themselves. He was merely a sort of referee, -ready to assist by advice and deed should the Sea Scouts commit any -serious error. Not that they often did. He had great confidence in the -skill and resourcefulness of his crew. - -“Stand by to go about!” ordered Brandon. “We’ll run under her lee and -see if anything is wrong with her.” - -Full and bye, the _Kestrel_ passed a full hundred yards to lee’ard of -the schooner, and then the mystery was in part solved. The vessel had -been in collision. Most of her counter had been carried away, the damage -extending almost, if not quite, to the water line. She was well down by -the stern—possibly not far short of foundering. There was no sign of a -boat. Apparently the crew had abandoned her and had either made for the -shore or else had been picked up by the craft that had run the schooner -down. Owing to the severe damage to the stern, her name and port of -registry were not to be seen, but by the yellow letters on her bow the -derelict proclaimed herself to be the _Euterpe_. - -“That name seems familiar,” thought Mr. Grant. “Where have I heard that? -I remember. Old Richard Marner told me his son was on her—_Huterp_, he -pronounced the name.” - -“Lee-o!” ordered Brandon. “Head sheets to wind’ard! Gather in your -mainsheet roundly!” - -The _Kestrel_ went about slowly yet unhesitatingly and hove-to on the -starboard tack within fifty yards of the _Euterpe’s_ starboard quarter. - -“I’ll send the dinghy off to her, sir,” said the Patrol Leader. “There -might be someone on board.” - -“Do so,” agreed Mr. Grant. “I’ll take charge of the dinghy. We must be -very careful how we go alongside. She won’t last very much longer, I -fancy.” - -The boat was hauled up alongside the _Kestrel_. Into her jumped the -Scoutmaster and Craddock and Heavitree. - -A few strokes brought the dinghy to the abandoned schooner. She was so -low aft that it was quite an easy matter to board her by the main -chains. The Scoutmaster did so, bidding the two lads hang on, but to be -ready to push off should the vessel show a tendency to hasten her -departure to Davy Jones’ locker. - -Almost as soon as he gained the deck, Mr. Grant caught sight of a black -cat sitting close to the companion leading to the cabin. - -“There’s a cat aboard, lads!” he announced, going to the rail and -addressing the crew of the dinghy. “I’ll hand it down to you.” - -“At this rate we’ll have a regular menagerie on the _Kestrel_ before we -reach Chichester Harbour,” remarked Peter to his companion. “Hope the -animal will make friends with Molly.” - -The Scoutmaster walked slowly towards the cat, calling “Puss, puss!” in -a coaxing tone. The animal, however, showed no enthusiasm at the -prospect of being rescued. In fact, it evinced a decided reluctance to -do so; and, waiting until Mr. Grant was within a couple of yards or so, -it turned and bolted down the ladder. - -Mr. Grant followed. It was a risky business going below, with the -schooner in danger of making a sudden plunge. - -At the foot of the companion ladder was a small lobby with two doors. -The starboard door was shut; the other one ajar. Obviously the cat had -taken refuge in the cabin on the port side. - -Before pursuing the animal, the Scoutmaster opened the door of the -starboard or captain’s cabin. Everything was in order. The skipper must -have been on deck when the collision occurred and had not waited to save -his personal belongings before taking to the boat. - -Closing the door, Mr. Grant stepped into the other cabin. At the after -end pale daylight showed through the jagged gap in the counter. Water -gurgled sullenly under the floor, a portion of which had been violently -up-heaved by the compact, causing the swing table to be capsized -together with a quantity of splintered woodwork. - -“Puss! puss!” he called again. “Bother the animal! Where’s it got to?” - -Suddenly the Scoutmaster caught sight of a man’s legs protruding from -the pile of debris. The occupant of the cabin had been caught and pinned -down—crushed more than likely—by the sudden and unexpected blow of the -colliding vessel’s bows. - -A few minutes’ desperate work enabled Mr. Grant to remove most of the -tightly wedged woodwork and disentangle the motionless form of the -luckless man. Then, without waiting to see whether he were alive or -dead, the Scoutmaster dragged him out of the cabin, up the steep and -narrow ladder, and across the deck. - -“Stand by, Peter!” he exclaimed breathlessly, and passing a bowline -round the unconscious form, he unceremoniously lowered him into the -dinghy. - -“I’ll have a look into the forepeak in case there’s anyone else!” he -announced. - -“Where’s the cat, sir?” shouted Craddock, after the retreating form of -his Scoutmaster. - -The question was answered by the animal itself. Springing on the -bulwarks, the cat leapt fearlessly into the boat and proceeded to curl -itself upon the chest of the motionless figure in the stern-sheets. - -Presently Mr. Grant returned. - -“No one else is aboard,” he reported. “Hello! You’ve got the cat, I -see!” - -Cautiously he lowered himself into the dinghy and crouched in the bows. -There was no room aft. - -“Push off, and give way, lads!” he exclaimed. - -By this time the _Kestrel_ had forged ahead and had increased her -distance to about a cable’s length. The dinghy had not covered more than -two-thirds of the distance when the stricken _Euterpe_ disappeared -beneath the surface. - -She went with very little fuss. There was a slight explosion of -compressed air, followed by a swirling movement of the water. There -appeared to be very little suction and hardly any commotion in the form -of breaking waves; but—and Mr. Grant gave an inward prayer of -thanks—the schooner had heeled to starboard as she disappeared. Had the -dinghy been close alongside she would have been crushed by the vessel’s -mainmast or else entangled in the still set canvas as the schooner -capsized. - -The rowers rested on their oars and watched the vessel’s disappearance -with awestruck faces. - -“That was a close shave for us,” said Heavitree, breaking the silence. - -“It was,” agreed Mr. Grant. “Give way; another dozen strokes will do the -trick.” - -The dinghy ranged up alongside the _Kestrel_. Craddock and Heavitree -held on while the Scoutmaster handed the heavy burden of the motionless -man to the ready arms of Brandon and his companions. - -The dinghy was made fast by the painter, but the _Kestrel_ was still -kept hove-to while the crew attended to the rescued man. - -“He’s still alive,” declared Mr. Grant. “That’s what stunned him.” - -He pointed to a nasty gash in the man’s temple from which the blood was -flowing slowly. In fact, it had almost ceased to do so, indicating that -the injury had been done at least two hours ago. In addition, his right -foot was badly nipped, with a superficial but nasty graze extending the -whole length of the shin-bone. - -“No fracture,” pronounced Mr. Grant after a careful examination of the -limbs. “First aid dressings, please, Brandon. We’ll leave him in the -cockpit till he recovers consciousness, but keep his body and limbs warm -with blankets. He’d better have my bunk to-night.” - -“Why, your hand’s bleeding, sir,” exclaimed Carline. - -The Scoutmaster glanced at his right hand. There was a small scratch -extending from the base of the middle finger almost to the centre of the -palm. - -“Nothing much,” he remarked. “I expect I caught the business end of a -piece of splintered wood. I didn’t even feel it. . . . Get way on her, -Peter! Same course, please; we can’t do better than that.” - -Presently, judging by sounds emanating from the saloon, Molly and the -cat were “having a few words.” The pup was barking shrilly, while the -other animal, with arched back, was replying in no uncertain voice. - -“Let them alone, and they’ll make friends,” remarked Peter to Talbot, -who had expressed his intention of going below and separating the -“menagerie.” “The more you jolly well interfere the worse they’ll -be—sort of showing off.” - -“I wonder if the sea superstition will hold good in our case,” asked -Carline. “They say a black cat on board a ship always brings a gale of -wind.” - -Craddock glanced astern. Twilight was stealing over the misty sea. -Through the gathering gloom came a dismal whine—the sound that often -heralds the approach of a squall. - -“We haven’t long to wait for it, lads!” he exclaimed, making a spring -for the cleated mainsheet. “It’s here now!” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - The Man they Rescued - - -The _Kestrel_ was in an unfavourable position to withstand the first of -the squall. She was running almost dead before the present breeze. -Should the blast come from even a slightly different direction there was -the great risk of an involuntary gybe. The main and mizzen booms would -swing over with terrific force and either carry away the runners or else -spring one or both masts. - -Fortunately, Craddock kept his head. Shouting to Talbot to ease the -head-sheets, he put the helm down gently. - -The squall came. In spite of the canvas shaking as the wind “spilled” -it, the ketch heeled till her lee rail was awash; then, recovering, she -leapt forward like a racehorse as Peter cautiously took a strain on the -mainsheet. - -At a warning shout, Mr. Grant hurried up from below, saw what Craddock -had done, and nodded approval. - -“She’s as stiff as a house,” he exclaimed reassuringly. “All the same, -we’ll have the mizzen sail off of her while it’s still light . . . and -the big jib as well. Bear a hand, Brandon, to get our patient below. He -may get knocked about if he remains here.” - -The injured man was showing signs of returning consciousness. He moaned -as he was being lifted, opened his eyes, and gazed blankly into the -Scoutmaster’s face. - -“You’re all right,” said Mr. Grant consolingly. - -The patient closed his eyes and gave no further sign of movement. With -difficulty, owing to the erratic motion of the yacht, they carried him -down the narrow companion way and into the Scoutmaster’s cabin. - -While this was being done Craddock put the _Kestrel_ into the wind and -hove-to, while canvas was being reduced. Stowing and furling the mizzen -sail was accomplished with little difficulty; but the task of taking in -the No. 1 jib and substituting the No. 3 took some doing. The yacht -pitched so violently in the rapidly rising sea that Heavitree and -Symington, on whom this task devolved, were frequently waist-deep in -water as they knelt on the fore-deck and struggled with out-haul and -jib-halliards and sought to muzzle the fiercely flapping canvas. - -At last the business of reducing sail was accomplished, and the -_Kestrel_ put on her former course. With whole mainsail, staysail, and -baby-jib she made splendid weather of it. In fact, she could have stood -more canvas; but in view of night approaching it was prudent to keep her -well under control, especially as the now hard wind might increase in -force. - -Meanwhile the side-lights had been placed in position. Both had been -tested during the process of fitting out, but now for some unaccountable -reason the starboard lamp refused to keep alight. - -“This is no light matter on a dark night,” said Heavitree. “No joke -intended, Peter! Any good trying a handkerchief round the ventilation -holes?” - -“Might do it,” replied Craddock. “It seems as if the thing isn’t getting -enough air as it is. However, see what you can do.” - -Cautiously making his way for’ard, Heavitree grasped the shrouds with -one hand and with the other removed the lamp from the screen. He had to -take it into the saloon to relight it, and at the same time he wound his -handkerchief loosely round the lower part of the lamp. Almost as soon as -he regained the cockpit the light went out. - -“You’re whacked, old son!” exclaimed Craddock. - -“Am I—you see!” retorted Heavitree as he went below again with the -extinguished lamp. - -In a few minutes he returned with the green light gleaming exceptionally -brightly. Curiously Peter watched his chum go for’ard, expecting every -second to see the light vanish. It didn’t. - -Heavitree refixed the lamp and came aft. It gave no further trouble. The -resourceful Sea Scout had removed the oil reservoir and had substituted -his small electric flash lamp. - -The _Kestrel_ was now maintaining quite a good speed. Peter took it to -be at least eight knots, but perhaps like most amateurs he was apt to -overestimate the vessel’s rate. In spite of the curling, crested waves, -she came through with hardly any water on her decks, and although at -times the following seas appeared high and menacing, she rode them in a -manner that gave everyone the greatest confidence in her seagoing -qualities. - -“Light on the port bow, sir!” reported Wilson. - -“Your eyes are sharper than mine, then,” rejoined the Scoutmaster, after -a prolonged look in the direction indicated. - -“There it is again, sir,” declared the lad. “Two quick flashes!” - -“I see them, too,” added Talbot. - -“So do I,” agreed Mr. Grant. “Well, now we know where we are, more or -less. That’s the Eddystone.” - -He took a rough compass bearing and went below to apply the reading to -the chart. The result rather surprised him. According to the -calculation, the _Kestrel_ ought to have been farther to the south’ard. -Either there was considerable deviation of the compass, or else the -yacht had been carried northwards by a tidal current. Leeway did not -enter into the problem, as the _Kestrel_ had been running free—except -for two brief intervals—from the time she picked up the breeze. - -It was something to be able to pick up the Eddystone light, but the -knowledge alone could not determine the _Kestrel’s_ position. A second -bearing cutting the first as near as possible at right angles would fix -that. - -By the aid of his night glasses, the Scoutmaster swept the horizon away -to the nor’ard, hoping to pick up St. Catherine’s light at the entrance -to Fowey Harbour. But the night was still hazy, and the light was -invisible. - -A tramp steamer passed at about a cable’s length to port. The moon -emerging from a bank of scudding clouds showed her plunging heavily into -the head seas. Frequently showers of glistening spray completely hid her -bows and flew high over her bridge. Yet the _Kestrel_, flying before the -wind, was making easy weather of it. - -Mr. Grant was now confronted with a difficult problem: whether to carry -on or to bear up and run for shelter into Plymouth Sound. On first -thoughts he favoured the latter alternative. With an injured man on -board, and having several hours before dawn to make for shelter, this -seemed the obvious thing to do. Then he considered the difficulties. He -had never been into Plymouth before. He was a stranger to the intricate -currents inside the breakwater. The Sound and Hamoaze were generally -crowded with shipping. The numerous navigation and riding-lamps were apt -to be particularly perplexing to a stranger, and there was no small risk -of disaster should an error of judgment occur. - -On the other hand, the _Kestrel_ was proving herself to be a capital -sea-boat. Better then to hold on, keeping plenty of sea-room, and gain -the sheltered waters of Start Bay at daybreak. - -Mr. Grant chose the latter alternative and stuck to it. Indecision he -held to be worse than incompetence. A person in charge of a vessel and -unable to make up his mind was a menace to his crew; an incompetent -skipper, although a despicable character, could be superseded in a -critical situation by a better man. - -Keeping Craddock and Heavitree on deck, the Scoutmaster took the helm -and told the rest of the crew to turn in. The two hefty Sea Scouts were -sufficient to assist him in the management of the yacht in a stiff blow -at night. The others would only be in the way. In addition they would be -as limp as rags in the morning. - -At 1 a.m. the Eddystone was abeam at a distance of about two miles. It -was still too hazy to pick up the powerful Start light, and there was no -object in “cracking on” and arriving off that dangerous headland before -dawn. - -Accordingly a couple of reefs were taken in the mainsail, and the -staysail was lowered and “bonneted” to the bowsprit. Even then the -_Kestrel_ maintained a fair speed and rode the waves like a cork, with -the dinghy’s bows high in the air as she strained at the end of a double -length of stout 50-feet rope. - -“Isn’t this top-hole, sir?” exclaimed Peter enthusiastically. “I’d -rather be in the _Kestrel_ than in that tramp which passed us some time -ago.” - -Before the Scoutmaster could offer any remark Brandon came out of the -cabin. - -“The man has come to,” he announced oracularly. - -“How does he feel? Did he say?” asked Mr. Grant. - -“Said he was thirsty, sir.” - -Telling Craddock to take the helm, Mr. Grant went below. - -He found the rescued man quite rational in spite of the serious injury -to his head. Reiterating the fact that he was thirsty, he continued by -asking where he was. - -The Scoutmaster explained. - -“You’re quite safe,” he continued. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to put up -with the limited accommodation on board until we can put you ashore. -I’ll give you something to drink; after that you must try all you can to -get to sleep.” - -“It du seem queer loike tu wake up an’ find myself here,” said the man, -as he watched the preparation of the beverage. “Last I remember wur I -wur sittin’ in——” - -“Don’t worry about that now,” interrupted Mr. Grant. “After you’ve slept -a few hours it will be interesting to hear your story. What’s your name, -by the by?” - -“Marner—Dick Marner,” was the not altogether unexpected reply. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - What Marner Revealed - - -“Light on our port bow, sir!” reported Craddock. - -“How far off?” asked Mr. Grant, through the open skylight. - -“Miles, sir,” replied Peter. “Another lighthouse, I fancy.” - -“Good! I’ll be on deck in a minute,” rejoined the Scoutmaster. - -Having reassured himself that Marner was comfortable and almost on the -point of falling asleep, Mr. Grant left the cabin and entered the -saloon. Here he paused and held his hand close to the swinging lamp. - -“H’m!” he remarked in an undertone, as he examined the somewhat jagged -cut. “It’s a case of the cobbler being the worst shod, I suppose. I’m -always impressing upon the boys the absolute necessity of guarding -against blood-poisoning, and in my case it’s precept without practice. -Better late than never: I’ll smother the gash with iodine.” - -He opened the medicine-chest, found and uncorked the iodine bottle. - -“Finger’s throbbing already, I fancy,” he continued. - -“How’s your hand, sir?” asked Brandon. “Let me bind it up for you.” - -“Thought you were sound asleep, Frank,” remarked the Scoutmaster. -“Thanks awfully, if you will.” - -The Patrol Leader slipped out of his bunk and, taking the bottle, poured -a few drops into the jagged wound. The sting of the iodine made Mr. -Grant wince. - -“That ought to do the trick, sir,” continued Brandon. “I’ll put a -bandage round your hand. I wouldn’t use it if I were you; but there, you -know all about that sort of thing, sir.” - -“I’m supposed to,” admitted the Scoutmaster. “Unfortunately, when it -comes to a personal matter one is apt to let such things slide. That’s -quite comfortable. Now I’ll see what the watch on deck are doing.” - -“Do you want me, sir?” asked Brandon. “I’ll turn out, if you like. I’d -be only too pleased to.” - -“No need,” replied Mr. Grant. “Sleep while you can. I may want you when -we enter harbour, but that may be hours yet.” - -Going on deck, Mr. Grant found that the light Peter had reported was two -points on the port bow. By the nature of the flashes—one every -second—he recognised it as The Start. - -“We’re timing things very nicely,” he observed. “By the time that -light’s abeam, it will be dawn. Then we’ll have to close haul in the -first tack and get under the lee of the line. We’ll make for Dartmouth -and land our passenger. He’s just told me his name is Marner, son of old -Dick Marner.” - -“The pal of Blueskin Bone, sir?” - -“Hope not,” replied Mr. Grant, laughing. “The old man denied the -acquaintanceship. However, that’s done with; Blueskin fades out of the -picture like a bad dream.” - -Almost before the fact could be realised dawn broke. A rosy flush spread -over the north-eastern sky, revealing a turmoil of angry, grey-crested -waves, for the _Kestrel_ was only a mile or so to the south’ard of The -Start, and was feeling the effect of the weather-going tide surging over -the ledge of submerged rocks, extending from that bold and dangerous -headland. - -The yacht was rolling heavily as she ran, but her seaworthiness was now -fully established. She was making better weather of it than a vessel of -three or four times her tonnage. - -“Nor’east a quarter north, now,” ordered the Scoutmaster. “A pull on the -mainsheet, Heavitree. I’ll see to the head-sheets.” - -Craddock put the helm down. Round came the _Kestrel_ until the youthful -helmsman “met her” on the required course. She was now almost, but not -quite, close-hauled. The rolling motion gave place to a fairly steady -heel. Showers of spray flew inboard over her weather bow, while her -lee-bow wave creamed and frothed in a way that gave a fairly true -indication of the speed she was making. After running for hours the -sense of being close-hauled was unmistakably thrilling. - -“Isn’t she hopping it, eh?” exclaimed Heavitree, as he coiled down the -flake of the mainsheet. “Hello, sir! Look what you’ve done.” - -The Scoutmaster followed the direction of the Sea Scout’s glance. The -bandage on his hand was dyed red. - -“Must have opened the cut when I handled the jib-sheet,” he thought. -“Well, it’s a good thing it was covered up; no dirt can get to it.” - -“It’s nothing much,” he remarked casually. “Now, you fellows, let’s see -who has the keenest eyesight. There should be a conical buoy on our port -bow about a couple of miles off.” - -“I see it, sir!” exclaimed Heavitree almost at once. “It’s dead on with -our bowsprit-end.” - -“Is it, by Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Grant. “Up helm, Peter! At that! We’re -closer in than I thought. We might have piled the _Kestrel_ on The -Skerries. See those houses just under The Start? That’s Beesands, or -what’s left of it. Most of the village was washed away in a gale. The -fishermen there train dogs to swim out to the returning boats and swim -back with a line. It takes some doing in a rough sea. We’re in smoother -water now. Do you see that high point of land ahead, Peter? Steer for -that; never mind the compass.” - -Pointing out various places of interest ashore, Mr. Grant chatted -briskly in order to arouse the obviously flagging spirits of the two -lads. They had stuck it well during the night watches, and now they -kicked against the suggestion that they should go below to be relieved -by Brandon and Talbot. - -“Why not bother about the compass, sir?” asked Peter. - -“Because for the present it isn’t absolutely necessary,” explained Mr. -Grant. “When you’ve a fixed object to steer by, it saves the strain of -peering into the binnacle-hood. You fellows have had quite enough of -that to-night, or rather last night. Now, Heavitree, nip below and get -the stove going. Nothing like a cup of hot cocoa in the early morning -after a long trick. When it’s ready, tell Brandon to turn out. We’ll -want an extra hand if we have to beat in. This wind will head us, I -fancy, when we’re abreast the Homestone.” - -The _Kestrel_ was now so steady that Heavitree had no difficulty in -lighting the stove. In about ten minutes his tousled head appeared, -framed in the companion. - -“Cocoa’s ready, sir,” he announced, “and all the others are awake and -want cocoa too.” - -“You want me, sir?” asked Brandon, as he edged past Heavitree in the -companion. - -“Yes, please,” replied Mr. Grant. “Have your cocoa and a biscuit first, -then tell the others to get their breakfasts when they’re dressed. We -don’t want too many on deck, if we’ve to tack in. And, while you are -about it, you might hand me the chart of Dartmouth Harbour.” - -Six o’clock was striking as the _Kestrel_, at one moment heeling to the -fierce blasts that swept down from the lofty ground and at another -gliding with canvas hanging idly in a flat calm, made her way between -the twin castles of St. Petrox and Kingswear, and gained the land-locked -harbour of Dartmouth. Fortunately the first of the flood tide was -setting in, and without much difficulty the yacht gained its anchorage. - -“There’s a vacant buoy,” observed Mr. Grant, pointing to one a short -distance astern of a small tramp steamer. “We’ll pick it up. It will be -much safer than riding to a kedge. We’ll have to get another anchor some -time to-day, and the sooner the better. Now, Brandon, let’s see how you -come up to moorings.” - -Considering the Patrol Leader was as yet almost a stranger to the -_Kestrel’s_ capabilities he managed remarkably well. Judging the -distance to a nicety, he put the helm down and shot the yacht up into -the wind. Heavitree running for’ard picked up the buoy with a boat-hook, -and hauling in the buoy rope passed the mooring chain round the bitts -before the yacht had time to “fall off.” - -“Well done!” exclaimed Mr. Grant approvingly. “Down canvas! Then -breakfast and a jolly good sound sleep!” - -“Could do with both, sir,” agreed Craddock feelingly. - -But the Scoutmaster had much to do before he could enjoy an already -well-earned rest. As soon as the post-office opened he went ashore in -the dinghy and telegraphed to old Marner the news of his son’s safety. -Also he had to report the matter to the Registrar of Shipping. He then -took the opportunity of communicating with Scoutmaster Pendennis at -Falmouth, acquainting him of the fact that the _Kestrel_ had arrived at -Dartmouth under somewhat unusual conditions and expressing a hope that -even yet the _Merlin_ and the _Kestrel_ would be able to cruise in -company. - -His next business was to make arrangements with the local representative -of the Shipwrecked Mariners Aid Society, to have Dick Marner taken -ashore and sent home by train. - -Finally, he bought another anchor to replace the one lying on the bed of -Falmouth Harbour. - -He returned on board to find all the crew asleep with the exception of -Carline, who had been told off to keep anchor watch. - -“You’d better turn in, too, Carline,” said Mr. Grant. “We aren’t getting -under way to-day, and perhaps not to-morrow either. We want fair weather -for the run past Portland Bill, and, judging by this morning’s sunrise, -we aren’t going to get it just at present.” - -Going to his own cabin, Mr. Grant saw that Marner was awake. - -“Feelin’ fine, sir,” replied the man in answer to the Scoutmaster’s -enquiry. “But I’m fair hungry. That beef tea was all very well, but it -don’t fill a man’s innards, in a manner o’ speakin’, sir. Can’t I have -somethin’ as ’as got summat to bite at?” - -“I think so, now,” said Mr. Grant, smiling at the Cornishman’s quaintly -phrased request. “And a boat’s coming for you some time before noon. -You’ll be given your fare to Falmouth, and with luck you’ll be home -to-night. But you’ll have to be careful with that head of yours, and not -shake yourself up too much on your motor bike.” - -A look of bewilderment spread over the bronzed features of Dick Marner, -junior. - -“Moty bike, sir?” he rejoined. “Can’t say as I follers what you’m -meaning.” - -It was Mr. Grant’s turn to look surprised. Could it be that Marner was -suffering from partial loss of memory owing to the injury to his head? - -“Surely you remember your motor bicycle at your father’s place at -Polkebo?” - -“Never ’ad a moty bicycle in my life, sir,” was the astounding reply. -“Couldn’t ride un if I ’ad.” - -The Scoutmaster made no comment, but thought the more. Apparently the -situation required careful handling, but before he could frame a -suitable question, Dick Marner continued: - -“Now I comes to think on it, the moty cycle you seed was Blueskin -Bone’s. ’E an’ fayther are neighbours like; an’ Blueskin ain’t got no -shed in ’is garden, and ’aving trouble to get moty cycle up the girt -steps to ’is door, ’e keeps un in fayther’s shed.” - -“So that’s it,” thought Mr. Grant. “I wish I’d known that when I -interviewed Mr. Marner, senior, the sly old rascal! However, Blueskin’s -a back number as far as we are concerned. That’s something to be -thankful for.” - - - - - CHAPTER X - Blueskin’s Plot - - -The presence of the Aberstour Sea Scouts’ yacht _Kestrel_ in Dartmouth -Harbour attracted a fair amount of interest, but none more than that -shown by a tall, heavily built, and loose-jowled deck-hand on board the -S.S. _Lumberjack_. - -Leaning over the bulwark of the tramp and shading his face with his -hands, the man gazed so intently at the newly arrived yacht that one of -his shipmates was struck by his studied interest. - -“Lor’, Blueskin!” he exclaimed. “Wot’s strikin’ your fancy now? Ain’t -you never seen a crowd o’ Sea Scoutses afore?” - -Carlo Bone spat contemptuously into the scuppers. - -“Axin’ for trouble, them is,” he remarked. - -“An’ so’ll you be if the Old Man sees you hangin’ on to the slack,” -rejoined the other. “Bear a hand an’ help shift this ’ere dunnage.” - -The S.S. _Lumberjack_ was lying within a hundred yards of the mooring -which the _Kestrel_ had picked up. She had arrived a few days before, -having developed engine trouble in that antiquated box which required -all the skill and patience of a dour Scots engineer to take the old -tramp along at even a modest five knots. - -The sight of the _Kestrel_ acted like a red rag to a mad bull as far as -Blueskin Bone was concerned. The mere knowledge that had it not been for -“them Sea Scoutses” he might have become the owner of the craft never -ceased to anger him. Even when, acting upon the idea that Polkebo was -getting too hot for him, he had shipped aboard the S.S. _Lumberjack_ his -resentment did not die down; it merely smouldered, to be revived to -white heat when, quite unexpectedly, the _Kestrel_ came in with the -flood tide from the boisterous waters of the English Channel. - -“If she ain’t mine,” he muttered, “she won’t be nobody’s—not if I can -’elp it. Too mighty cute those chaps wur last time—when they thought as -I wur about. If they don’t see I, maybe they won’t be so plaguey -wideawake.” - -For the rest of his watch Blueskin spent most of the time taking furtive -glances at the _Kestrel_ and cudgelling his brains to devise some -cunning plan to gain his ends. In order to conceal himself from -observation from the _Kestrel_, he even declined to go ashore that -evening, much to his shipmates’ surprise. - -Long after the hands had turned in that night Blueskin lay awake. When -at length silence reigned in the stuffy fo’c’sle of the S.S. -_Lumberjack_, Carlo Bone slipped out of his bunk, barefooted and wearing -only a pair of canvas trousers. - -It was a pitch dark night. Heavy clouds overspread the sky. A hard blow -was raging out in the Channel, and even the land-locked waters of -Dartmouth Harbour were foam-flecked. The flood tide was on the point of -turning. In fact, all the shipping at anchor on the Kingswear side were -riding head to wind. Eighty yards or so away, the riding-light of the -_Kestrel_ see-sawed as the yacht rolled and strained at her borrowed -moorings. - -Groping about in the darkness, Blueskin soon found what he wanted: an -iron bucket to which he had previously attached a short length of -flexible steel wire. The bucket he lowered over the ship’s side by means -of a piece of spun yarn until it hung just above the surface. - -Giving a final look round to reassure himself that no one was on deck, -Blueskin lowered himself into the water. Then, casting off the lashing -that held the bucket, he struck out for the _Kestrel_, pushing the -bucket in front of him. - -Like most Cornishmen, Blueskin Bone was a powerful swimmer, and an -expert diver. It was mere child’s-play to him to swim to the yacht’s -stern, partly fill the bucket to make it float upright, and then to dive -with the free end of the flexible wire in his grasp. - -Blueskin had seen the _Kestrel_ high and dry so often that he was well -acquainted with the way in which her rudder fastenings were fixed. In -the darkness the task he had in hand presented no difficulty. Quickly he -passed the end of the wire between the rudder and the stern-post just -above the lower pintle, and came to the surface with the steel rope -still in his hand. - -His next act was to bend the end of the wire to the handle of the -bucket, so that both extremities were secured close together. The bucket -was now firmly attached to the _Kestrel’s_ rudder by the doubled parts -of the wire. - -“That’ll ’old till the crows come ’ome,” he muttered, as he tugged at -the last hitch of the rope. - -Tilting the bucket, Blueskin allowed it to fill and sink. It was now -suspended at the end of a few feet of steel wire immediately under the -yacht’s stern-post. - -Having accomplished what he had set out to do, Carlo Bone swam back to -the _Lumberjack_, swarmed up her side, removed and wrung out his -trousers, and crept back to his bunk. - -“Reckon I ain’t cried quits wi’ ’em yet,” he muttered, recalling with -mingled feelings of humiliation and anger the incident when he was -knocked out by a mere youth. “’Tany rate, I’ve done summat t’wards -gettin’ my own back. Like as not them’ll have a leadin’ wind outer ’ere -when them starts. An’ a fair tide. But when it comes tu goin’ about like -in the Range, that there bucket’ll make ’em miss stays. They’ll be fair -on the rocks afore they knows where they be.” - -There was deep cunning in Carlo Bone’s plan. He counted upon the -_Kestrel_ getting under way with a fair wind and a fair tide. The crew -would not be likely to notice that they were towing a bucket under the -stern, although the drag would be considerable. But in the Narrows, at -the entrance to the harbour, the baffling wind and the set of the tidal -current would compel the _Kestrel_ to attempt at least one tack. Then -the impediment caused by the bucket would be more than sufficient to -make her “miss stays,” and in that hopeless state she would be driven -upon the saw-edged rocks to lee’ard almost before her crew realised -their danger. - -Chuckling sardonically, Blueskin lay awake in his bunk until nearly -dawn—the dawn of a day on which, if his plans went aright, the -_Kestrel_ would ignominiously end her career upon the rock-strewn coast -of Devon. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - How it Failed - - -“All clear for’ard?” shouted Patrol Leader Brandon. “Stand by to let -go!” - -Fifty hours had elapsed since the _Kestrel_ found her way into Dartmouth -Harbour. The summer storm had blown itself out. The Sea Scouts, having -made up arrears of sleep, were in the best of spirits and keenly looking -forward to the long run across West Bay and round the famous Bill of -Portland. - -It was almost a flat calm. The tide was still ebbing. The S.S. -_Lumberjack_ remained at anchor, repairs to her machinery being still in -progress. - -According to his rule of letting the Sea Scouts work their craft as far -as possible entirely on their own responsibility, Mr. Grant was acting -in the rôle of passenger, Patrol Leader Frank Brandon being for the -present skipper of the _Kestrel_. - -“Get an oar out, Heavitree,” continued the Patrol Leader. “We’ll have to -sweep her round in this light breeze, and probably tow her clear of the -harbour. She’ll shift easily enough when once we get way on her.” - -Brandon was on the point of calling to Carline to cast off the mooring -when he noticed a small motor boat approaching, apparently with the -intention of crossing the _Kestrel’s_ bows. Instead, the owner of the -power-craft reversed, put her helm over, and ran alongside. - -“Good morning!” he exclaimed. “I see you fellows are off. Perhaps you’d -like a tow? I’m off to the East Blockstone to try a bit of fishing, so -if you like I’ll take a line.” - -“Thanks awfully, sir,” replied Brandon. “It’s jolly good of you.” - -“Not at all,” rejoined the owner of the motor boat. “Matter of fact, I -used to be a Scoutmaster. Had to give it up, unfortunately. However, I -still stick to the practice of ‘One Good Turn a Day’—more if I have a -chance. . . . Sorry, I didn’t see you,” he added, addressing Mr. Grant, -who had just come out of the saloon. “Why! Surely your name’s Grant?” - -“Quite right,” was the reply, “but somehow I can’t recall you.” - -“Possibly not,” continued the other, with a laugh. “Do you remember -coming alongside a tramp on Christmas Day ’17? You were in a M.L. and -you got some bully beef and bread out of our old hooker. At the same -time you warned us that there were two U-boats off Bolt Head, and said -we’d better leg it back to Plymouth?” - -Mr. Grant remembered the circumstance. It was during the war, when he -was in command of a M.L. - -“But I can’t recall your features,” he reiterated. - -“’Cause I am beautifully disguised with a beard,” explained the other. -“Matter of fact, we didn’t take your advice. We held on our course, and -bagged a Fritz a couple of hours later. We were a ‘Q’ ship, and you -didn’t spot us.” - -“Heard about it later on,” said Mr. Grant. “Then your name’s Carter?” - -“Just so; late Scoutmaster of the 9th Gosport Sea Scouts. Unfortunately, -‘owing to the War,’ I had to give up, much to my regret, and settle down -here at Kingswear. Come aboard, and we can yarn while I’m towing your -craft out of the harbour.” - -Mr. Grant accepted the invitation, leaving Brandon actually in command -of the _Kestrel_. - -The tow-rope was made fast, the moorings slipped. Very gently, by -skilful use of the reverse gear, Mr. Carter allowed the yacht to gather -way in the wake of the 4-h.p. motor boat. - -During the run down the harbour, Brandon kept all hands busily employed -in casting loose mainsail and mizzen and hoisting the jib in stops ready -to be broken out directly the _Kestrel_ was cast off. Thus engaged they -failed to notice the relatively slow progress or the somewhat unusual -swirl under the yacht’s stern. Nor were they aware of the presence of a -highly exasperated deck-hand on board the S.S. _Lumberjack_, who -consoled himself for the preliminary failure of his plans by the thought -that perhaps the motor boat would not tow the _Kestrel_ right out to -sea, but only just clear of St. Petrox. In that case there was still -some hope that the yacht would pile herself up upon the tide-swept -Verticals or perhaps the rugged Mewstone. - -“You’ve a lump of a craft there, Grant,” remarked Mr. Carter. “She’s -heavier to tow than I thought; although this packet is only a four-horse -motor boat.” - -“Yet she’s moving her all right,” added Mr. Grant. - -“Yes, with the tide. I doubt whether we are doing three knots. Has the -_Kestrel’s_ compo. been scrubbed recently?” - -“Fresh on a week ago,” declared the Scoutmaster. - -“H’m,” commented Mr. Carter, “strange we aren’t doing better. A few days -ago I gave a forty tonner a pluck in, and made quite easy work of it -once I got her going. There’s the East Blackstone”—pointing to an -isolated rock about half a mile away. “I’ll tow you inside the rock. -There’s plenty of water and less tide running. You’re early yet for the -up-Channel stream, but with the breeze you’ll stem the tide all right.” - -At the East Blackstone the tow-rope was cast off. Mr. Grant regained the -_Kestrel_, and the crew gave a hearty cheer for the benefit of the -ex-Scoutmaster. Sail was quickly made, and under all plain canvas the -_Kestrel_ was steadied on her course for Portland Bill. - -Half an hour passed. The anchored motor boat was still unaccountably -near. The _Kestrel_, in spite of the steady favourable breeze, was not -going anything like as fast as she had done in a lighter wind. - -The Sea Scouts began to realise the fact and reluctantly they admitted -that it was so. Even the dinghy’s painter was slack, whereas in this -breeze the water ought to be foaming at her bows. - -“We are going slowly, sir,” remarked Craddock. - -“That’s what Mr. Carter said,” replied the Scoutmaster. “There’s no -reason why we should as far as I can see, unless we’ve fouled a few -lobster pots. Look over the bows and see.” - -Peter went for’ard and “laid out” along the bowsprit. He could see the -yacht’s forefoot showing clearly through the pale green water. - -“All clear there, sir,” he reported. - -“I don’t see how anything could foul her rudder,” observed Mr. Grant. -“The keel band projects sufficiently to prevent that; however, just look -to make sure.” - -Craddock did so. - -“Why!” he exclaimed. “There’s something dragging astern. I can’t make -out what it is, ’cause the wake is bubbling so much. Pass me the -boat-hook, Talbot.” - -Lying at full length on the stern deck, Peter probed with the iron-shod -boat-hook. Metal rasped on metal, and on attempting to withdraw the -boat-hook the Sea Scout found that it was hitched in a line of some -sort. - -“Bear a hand, some of you fellows!” he called out breathlessly. - -Talbot and Symington came to his assistance. All three hauled and -levered at the stout ash boat-hook stave. - -“Can’t get in another inch,” declared Talbot. - -“Sure you’re not foul of the rudder?” asked Mr. Grant. - -“No, sir, it’s astern of the rudder, whatever it is.” - -“Now, Brandon, you’re in charge,” said the Scoutmaster. “Carry on and -see what you can do.” - -The Patrol Leader began throwing off his scanty clothing. - -“Down helm!” he ordered. “Jib and staysail sheets a-weather!” - -It took three attempts to get the _Kestrel_ to come up into the wind so -that she might be hove-to. As sluggish as a mule, she absolutely refused -to go about until Carline and Wilson got her round by means of a sweep. -Then Craddock prodded with the boat-hook, and this time found nothing -more resisting than water. - -“Whatever it is it has slipped off,” he announced. - -“I’ll make sure, in any case,” declared Brandon. - -The Patrol Leader made a clean dive, broke surface, and swam to the -yacht’s stern. Then, taking a deep breath, he grasped the edge of the -rudder and lowered himself towards the _Kestrel’s_ heel. - -He was under for nearly half a minute; then he reappeared, puffing and -blowing like a grampus. - -“There’s a large iron bucket hanging from the lower pintle,” he -reported. “I tried to shake it clear, but it’s made fast by about a -couple of yards of wire rope.” - -“See if you can work the free end of the wire past the stern-post,” -suggested Craddock. “I’ll put the helm hard over and see if that frees -it.” - -“There is no free end,” was the astonishing reply. “Both ends are -tightly knotted round the handle of the bucket.” - -All hands realised that the obstruction had not been placed there by -accident or natural causes. Human agency had been deliberately at work. - -“No use arguing about it, lads!” called out Brandon. “Pass me the -hack-saw.” - -“One minute, I’ll be with you, Frank,” said Craddock, proceeding to -strip. “It’s not much use sawing at a slack wire. Get a line, Talbot. -That’s right. Now, Frank, can you pass this under the handle of the -bucket? You can? Good. Now, you fellows, take a strain; put plenty of -beef into it and keep the rope taut.” - -Craddock then went overboard and swam to give his chum a hand. They -found that the strain on the rope had brought the bucket within five or -six inches of the surface, and that the wire was as taut as a bar of -iron. - -“Wouldn’t it be easier and quicker to saw through the handle?” asked -Craddock. - -“Yes, but we won’t,” decided the Patrol Leader. “Why spoil what seems to -be a jolly decent bucket?” - -“Well, I’ve kicked the bucket,” declared Peter feelingly. - -A roar of laughter greeted this apparently innocent remark. Craddock, -failing to grasp the grim significance of the words, couldn’t imagine -why his chums should roar because he had stubbed his toe against the -submerged article. - -Taking turns to use the hack-saw, the two lads set to work -energetically. True they broke a couple of blades—mishaps that, owing -to the erratic motion of the yacht and their unstable position, were not -to be wondered at—but at length the tautened wire parted. The bucket -was hauled in deck while Brandon, who believed in doing a good job -thoroughly, extricated the stranded wire rope from the narrow gap -between the rudder and the stern-post. - -“Dirty dogs, whoever they are,” commented the Patrol Leader, after he -had hauled himself clear of the water. - -“Here’s a clue, anyway,” exclaimed Heavitree. - -He pointed to the somewhat dented side of the bucket. On it could be -traced the partly obliterated letters in black paint. . . . UM . . . -R.J. . . .K. - -“_Lumberjack!_” announced Craddock. “That’s the name of the tramp lying -next to us at Dartmouth.” - -“Why should any of her crew want to play a joke on us, I wonder?” -enquired Carline. “Couldn’t you write to the owners and find out the -names of the crew, sir? That might explain matters.” - -“I am thinking seriously of doing so,” replied Mr. Grant. “There may be -more in this business than we know. It’s not merely a practical joke; -had we been compelled to tack out of harbour the result might easily -have been disastrous. Now, Brandon! Get way on her again. She ought to -slip along in a nice breeze like this; and Portland’s still a long way -off.” - -With that the Scoutmaster went below. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - Out of Action - - -Mr. Grant went to his cabin for a very serious reason. His hand was -rapidly swelling. The slight cut he had received when he rescued young -Marner from the sinking schooner had resulted in an undoubted case of -blood-poisoning. He, who was prone to boast of his immunity from that -sort of thing, had at last fallen a victim to the dangerous malady. - -For some time he had suspected it. He ought to have gone ashore at -Dartmouth and seen a doctor. He would have done but for the fear that he -might be ordered to lay up. In that case, the voyage of the _Kestrel_ -would have been indefinitely prolonged—long after the forthcoming -Jamboree was over. Although Brandon was quite a capable fellow, he held -no warrant, without which Sea Scouts are not permitted to go afloat; and -it was doubtful whether a fully qualified man could be found to -undertake the duties of temporary Scoutmaster. - -So, rather than spoil the lads’ chance of taking part in the Chichester -Harbour Jamboree, Mr. Grant risked his own. - -He had had a restless night. Almost hourly he had crept softly from his -bunk lest he should disturb the rest of the crew, and had held the -injured hand in very warm water. But all to no seeming purpose. The -middle finger was swelling badly, and, what was ominous, sharp, stabbing -pains were running up his arm. Curiously, the cut at the base of the -fingers appeared to be healing, while the swelling was most pronounced -on the knuckle of the same digit. - -As he kept his hand in the hot water, Mr. Grant’s thoughts turned to the -incident of the bucket. It seemed strange indeed that already the maiden -cruise of the _Kestrel_ should be marked by three distinct—or -apparently distinct—attempts to bring her to disaster. But were they -distinct? Could it be that Blueskin Bone was the instigator of all -three? Dick Marner’s innocent admission that his father and Carlo Bone -were more than neighbours, coupled with the discovery that Marner -senior’s story of the motor bicycle was a deliberate falsehood, tended -to shake Mr. Grant’s previous belief in Blueskin’s innocence in the -attempt at arson. Carlo Bone had gone to sea. Was it beyond the bounds -of coincidence that he was one of the crew of the S.S. _Lumberjack_? - -He went on thinking and thinking. Presently, in a hazy sort of way, he -became aware that his thoughts were ridiculously disjointed and absurd. -The pain in his arm seemed to be subsiding, but in its stead he felt -uncomfortably hot. His head was buzzing. Grey lights danced in front of -his eyes. - -Then Mr. Grant did something he had never done before in his life. He -fainted. - -A few minutes later Peter Craddock, who was making his way to the -fo’c’sle, found his Scoutmaster lying inertly across the raised coaming -of his cabin doorway. - -Checking his first impulse to alarm the rest of the crew, Peter lifted -the unconscious form and carried it into the saloon. Here, with very -little effort, the Sea Scout lifted Mr. Grant on the lee’ard settee; -then, going to the companion way, asked Heavitree in a matter-of-fact -voice to step below. - -“Don’t say anything to the other chaps,” cautioned Peter, when his chum -came below. “Mr. Grant’s fainted. I found him lying in the doorway. Get -some sal volatile and a basin of cold water while I loosen his collar.” - -“What made him faint?” asked Heavitree, as he carried out Craddock’s -instructions. - -“Don’t know,” replied Peter. “It’s not concussion.” - -“His finger, perhaps?” - -“Rot!” ejaculated the lad contemptuously. Then he caught sight of the -badly swollen hand. “By Jove! Believe you’re right, old son. I knew he -had a nasty gash, but I never knew it was as bad as this. Skylight’s -open: you might open all the scuttles. The more fresh air the better.” - -Presently Mr. Grant opened his eyes and looked dazedly at his youthful -attendants. - -“Where am I?” he asked. - -“You’re all right, sir,” replied Peter reassuringly. “Heavitree and I -are looking after you. Lie still a little longer.” - -The Scoutmaster did so. The ghastly greyish hue on his features was -giving place to the glow of returning vitality. His thoughts were again -becoming coherent, yet he felt a curious sense of resentment at being -ordered to remain quiet. - -With returning consciousness came the agonising throb of his swollen -arm. His hand was trailing over the side of the settee. It felt like -lead. He was hardly able to raise it. - -“Silly of me to have gone off like that,” he soliloquised. “Well, that’s -put me out of the running for a bit. Hang it all—no! What am I thinking -about?” - -A vision of the _Kestrel_ with her youthful crew flashed across his -mind. So far all was going well. The sea was calm, the weather fine. -Brandon knew the course, but would he be able to take the yacht into -port? - -“I’ll go on deck now,” he declared. - -“No, you won’t, sir,” countered Craddock firmly. “You aren’t fit to go. -Wait till we’ve done something to that hand of yours. You’ll only make -it worse if you bang it against something. I’ll dress it for you. Does -it hurt much?” - -“A little,” admitted Mr. Grant deprecatingly, for the pain was now -intense. Possibly in his fall he had jarred the already badly swollen -limb. - -Peter went for’ard to boil some water and make a bread poultice. While -the water was being heated he went on deck to tell Brandon and the -others of what had occurred. - -He found Talbot at the helm. Symington and Wilson were trying with -varying success to induce Molly to sit up and beg. The pup was willing -enough, but the gentle motion of the yacht was too much for her. Also -she had a not unfounded suspicion that the cat rescued from the -_Euterpe_—young Marner had emphatically declined to take it with -him—was secretly helping herself to the pup’s bowl of milk. - -“Where’s Brandon?” asked Peter. - -“Up aloft,” replied Talbot, glancing at the cross-trees. - -“I’ll be down in half a shake, old son!” called out the Patrol Leader. -“I’ve been trying to sight Portland Bill. It’s too far off yet.” - -Craddock swept the horizon. Right astern and on the port quarter the red -hills of Devon were merging into the mist of a hot summer’s day. Broad -on the port beam, where the chalk cliffs make their first appearance on -the south shores of England, land was no longer visible. Neither was it -ahead. To starboard, Peter knew, was the broad expanse of the English -Channel. For the first time in his life, Craddock was about to find -himself out of sight of land. With the exception of Brandon, the other -Sea Scouts were to have a similar experience: afloat with an unbroken -horizon of sea and sky forming a complete circle of which the little -_Kestrel_ formed the exact centre. It was true that they had been out of -sight of land during the fog, but that wasn’t the same thing. Had there -been no fog they would have seen the rugged Cornish coast the whole -time. Now, even in the clearest weather, they would probably be an hour -or more out of sight of land until the wedge-shaped promontory of -Portland showed up on the port bow. - -Even as Craddock looked, a strange, muffled voice exclaimed: - -“Isn’t it quite about time you fellows liberated me from this -uncomfortable apartment?” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - The Stowaway - - -For a few moments, Peter Craddock could hardly believe his sense of -hearing. Wilson and Symington were also too astonished for words. They -could only abandon their efforts to teach the pup tricks and gaze -blankly at Craddock’s face. The first conclusion they arrived at was -that Peter was indulging in a little ventriloquism at their expense. - -Craddock, too, tried to “fix” the owner of the voice. With the exception -of Heavitree the others were on deck. Carline was for’ard, lying in -luxurious ease and basking in the sunshine on the fore-deck. Brandon was -still aloft; Talbot at the helm; Symington and Wilson in the cockpit. - -“Kindly open the door!” exclaimed the voice again. This time there was a -violent rapping on the panel of one of the side lockers in the cockpit. - -The locker was a fairly spacious one, extending from the after bulkhead -of the cabin on the starboard side to the bulkhead supporting the -decked-in part of the stern. Usually it contained spare sails, canvas -awnings, and warps not likely to be frequently required. It was secured -by means of a detachable panel held in place by two projecting battens -at one end and a stout wooden button at the other. - -“Brandon!” sang out Peter. - -“Coming,” replied the Patrol Leader. “What’s wrong?” - -Swinging himself down by the throat halliards, Brandon gained the deck -and came aft. - -“Someone’s in there,” declared Craddock. - -“Then hike him out,” rejoined Brandon in matter-of-fact tones. “This -isn’t the First of April, me lad!” - -“I quite agree,” boomed the voice from the locker. - -Brandon gave a start, but quickly recovering himself, threw open the -panel. Lying full length on the assortment of canvas gear and blinking -in the strong sunlight was a boy of about twelve or fourteen. - -“Come out!” ordered Brandon sternly. - -“Precisely what I’ve been wanting to do for the last five minutes,” -replied the youth, with astonishing coolness. “Just wait until I have -collected my scanty belongings and your request will be complied with.” - -“Well, I never——” ejaculated the Patrol Leader. - -“Don’t distress yourself,” continued the boy. “Wait until I am in a -position to offer an explanation. My limbs, I find, are somewhat -cramped.” - -With the utmost deliberation the stowaway emerged and stood upright in -the cockpit with the Sea Scouts still too astonished to say much, -hemming him in on three sides. - -He was a pale-faced, sharp-featured lad of medium height and sparely -built. The most noticeable feature about him was a high and prominent -forehead. He was dressed in a tightly fitting suit of grey tweed and an -Eton collar, his thin, bony wrists projecting quite three inches beyond -his coat sleeves. Under one arm he held a schoolboy’s satchel, from -which protruded a glass-stoppered bottle. - -“You hid yourself on board?” began Brandon. - -“Your surmise is a perfectly correct one,” agreed this remarkable youth, -with a grave smile. “In the circumstances I had no option. Had I asked -to be allowed to accompany you, my request would have been refused. As -it is, I’m here.” - -“A stowaway!” exclaimed the Patrol Leader. “You deserve a booting.” - -The boy made a deprecatory movement with his hand. - -“Believe me, it isn’t done,” he rejoined. “Personal violence to -stowaways is, I take it, an obsolete practice that has shared the same -fate as walking the plank and keel-hauling. At least, I hope I am not -misinformed. . . . I say, what a jolly little pup!” - -“Never mind the pup,” protested Brandon. “Tell me what you are doing on -board.” - -“Enjoying—or expecting to enjoy—a free journey to Chichester. The -chances are I shall. You can’t very well go back to Dartmouth; you can’t -put me overboard. So it seems as if I remain here a while, and I’ve -brought my provisions!” - -“I’ll see what Mr. Grant has to say,” decided Brandon, who had never -before come in contact with such a self-possessed and precocious -youngster. - -“One minute,” interrupted Peter, drawing his chum aside. “Come for’ard.” - -Craddock and Brandon made their way to the fore-deck, where Carline was -slumbering in ignorance of what had occurred. - -“Mr. Grant fainted just now,” reported Peter. “Heavitree’s with him. I -fancy it’s his hand that made him go off. It’s a case of -blood-poisoning, I’m afraid. I was boiling some water to make a poultice -when this happened. I vote we say nothing to Mr. Grant until he’s had a -good rest, but I leave it to you. You’re skipper.” - -“Right-o!” agreed Brandon. “Where is he? In his cabin?” - -“No, on one of the settees in the saloon.” - -“Then carry on, old son. I’ll tell the others to keep clear a bit and -not to disturb him. You can manage all right?” - -Peter went below. He found that the Scoutmaster was nearly asleep and -that the water was boiling. It seemed an unpleasant duty to have to -rouse the patient, but it had to be done. - -The poultice was made and applied. It was a very hot one, and Mr. Grant -winced; but in a few minutes the warmth began to act soothingly upon the -fiercely throbbing finger. - -“That’s ever so much better, Peter,” remarked Mr. Grant gratefully. - -“Good business, sir,” rejoined the Sea Scout. “Now, try and go to -sleep.” - -“Not much doubt about that,” said the patient. “I’ll try a couple of -hours’ sleep. Tell Brandon to inform me when Portland Bill is in sight. -It ought to show up one point on our port bow.” - -“Very good, sir.” - -As he was leaving the cabin, Peter signed to Heavitree. - -“I’ll send Wilson down to relieve you,” he said. “There’ll have to be -someone in the saloon in case Mr. Grant wants anything. Give an eye to -the kettle before you come on deck, and bring some grub with you. We’ll -have dinner on deck, then we won’t disturb him.” - -Peter found the stowaway still hemmed in by the justifiably inquisitive -Sea Scouts. The boy had dropped much of his stiffness of manner and -seemed more at ease, although he retained his quaint method of speech. -Possibly he had been nervous and had concealed his anxiety under a mask -of forced self-assurance. Now, finding that the youthful crew of the -_Kestrel_ were not in any way antagonistic, he was becoming quite -communicative. - -His name, he told them, was Eric Little. He made the statement somewhat -doubtfully, fearing, perhaps, that his audience would “pull his leg” -over that once well-known book: “Eric, or Little by Little.” He had had -quite enough of that already. Fortunately his fears in that respect were -ill-founded, for the work in question had mercifully not been brought to -the notice of the Aberstour Sea Scouts. - -Eric’s parents were dead. He had been “brought up” by his grandparents -who lived on the outskirts of Dartmouth. Apparently they had weird and -misguided notions as to how their grandchild should be brought up. They -had a strange antipathy to schoolmasters. They absolutely declined to -let Eric go to school or to associate with other children. His -education, if such it could be called, was imparted by a half-baked -governess of uncertain age and of a frigid and ultra-prim manner. The -natural result was that Eric, invariably in the company of grown-ups, -had developed the pedantic manner of speech that had so greatly -astonished Brandon and his companions. He was well versed in several -serious subjects, but his knowledge of the ways of boys of his own age -was lamentably weak. In spite of himself, he was fast developing into a -little prig, and if compelled to run in the same rut he would be an -object of derision and scorn when the time came for him to go out into -the world. - -Luckily for him, although he did not know it, his uninvited presence on -board the _Kestrel_ was to be the making of him. - -He had no idea of running away from his overkind and misguided -grandparents. He merely wanted a change. Somewhere in the neighbourhood -of Chichester he had an aunt and uncle. He had never seen them, and -beyond receiving presents from them at Christmas and on his birthday he -was hardly aware of their existence. Yet he felt a vague longing to -visit them, and although he had hinted of his wish in that direction, -his grandparents had for some unexplained reason declined to allow him -to do so. - -Eric had exercised considerable intelligence in making a bid for a free -journey to Chichester. Quite by chance he had been standing under the -Butterwalk when Craddock and Talbot were talking with some members of a -Dartmouth troop of Scouts. He gathered that the two former were going to -Chichester Harbour in a yacht for the Jamboree. What the word “Jamboree” -meant he knew not. It sounded like something jolly. At any rate, -opportunity was knocking at the door of his warped little mind, and -there and then he made up his mind to stow himself away on board the -_Kestrel_. - -Acting upon his grandfather’s oft-repeated precept that “There is no -time like the present,” Eric got busy. He had a few shillings with him. -This he invested in a supply of food and a couple of bottles of -ginger-beer. He knew that all the crew of the _Kestrel_ were ashore; -Craddock had mentioned that there were eight including a Scoutmaster, -and eight had certainly landed at the steps close to the boat pond. For -the sum of one shilling a weedy youth minding a yacht’s dinghy agreed to -row him off to the _Kestrel_, and there he hid himself in the locker, -hoping that the yacht would put to sea that evening—which she did not. - -“What did you do with yourself all night?” asked Brandon. - -“Oh, when you were all asleep I emerged from my place of concealment for -fresh air and in order to stretch my cramped limbs,” explained the -stowaway. “Once that pup of yours growled, but I don’t think it was on -my account. That was when a certain person swam off to the yacht from -the large ship at anchor.” - -“Someone swam off!” exclaimed Craddock. “What did he do? Why didn’t you -raise the alarm?” - -Eric turned reproachful eyes upon his questioner. - -“My dear sir,” he replied. “It couldn’t be done! It couldn’t really. -Consider my position. I really had no right to be on board. Neither, -presumably, had the swimmer to climb up over the side. After all’s said -and done, it wasn’t my affair, was it?” - -“That was the chap who lashed the bucket to the rudder,” declared the -Patrol Leader. “What sort of fellow was he?” - -“I gathered that he did so from subsequent happenings,” rejoined Eric. -“Regarding your question, I’m sorry to inform you that I had no -opportunity of studying his features. Nocturnal conditions and a natural -desire to efface myself combined to keep me in ignorance of the man’s -appearance. But here I am,” he added briskly, “willing to acquire as -much nautical knowledge as my mental appetite will digest. Which, by the -by, is the main brace?” - -He cocked his eye aloft at the expanse of tautened canvas, and then -looked at Brandon enquiringly. - -“No use, my lad,” replied the Patrol Leader. “You won’t find a brace -aboard this craft. Sea Scouts favour belts, you know. Now, lads! Dinner! -We’re behind time.” - -The meal was duly relished and dispatched, the stowaway receiving a -share as a matter of course. “Washing-up,” a distasteful yet necessary -operation, was completed, the plates and other utensils being -temporarily stowed in one of the cockpit lockers in order that Mr. Grant -would not be disturbed had the gear been returned to its usual place. - -By this time the wind had fallen light and was almost dead aft. Land was -still visible; only an expanse of smooth sea rippled by erratic catspaws -greeted the sight of the crew. - -“Can’t we hoist the topsail?” asked Heavitree. - -“No,” replied Brandon decidedly, “we can’t. Scoutmaster’s orders are -that the topsail is not to be set without his permission. But we can -hoist the spinnaker,” he added. “That’ll help us along.” - -The spinnaker, a large triangular sail of light canvas, was spread by -being hoisted by a halliard to the mainmast head, the tack being secured -to the mast below the gooseneck, while the third corner of the sail was -hauled out to the extremity of a horizontal spar known as the spinnaker -boom. The latter was held by means of a sheet, but in order to prevent -any tendency on the part of the boom to swing back, it was secured on -the free side of the sail by means of a rope called a “guy.” The duty of -“manning the guy” was deputed to Fred Heavitree. - -“All ready, there?” sung out Brandon. - -“Ay, ay, sir!” replied Craddock. - -“Up with her, then! Out out-haul! Check your sheet!” ordered the Patrol -Leader. - -Craddock and Talbot at the halliard whipped the head of the canvas -aloft. Simultaneously, Wilson tailed on to the out-haul. The spinnaker, -distended by the light breeze, strained at the sheet; then, without -warning, dropped from aloft in shivering folds. Unaccountably the -halliard had parted, letting the spinnaker down with a run. - -There was a heavy splash. Heavitree, enveloped by the canvas, had been -jerked into the sea. - -“Man overboard!” shouted Craddock. “Down helm, Carline!” - -The helmsman put the tiller hard over. Peter, snatching up a life-buoy, -prepared to throw it within easy reach of the Sea Scout in the ditch. -The others, abandoning the spinnaker, rushed aft to bring the dinghy -alongside to pick up their chum. - -Alertly, Craddock watched the curving line of ripples astern as the -_Kestrel_ came up into the line. There was no sign of Heavitree. The lad -was an excellent swimmer, but there was the likelihood that he had hit -the rail as he fell and had been rendered insensible. - -Full thirty long-drawn-out seconds passed, but still no sign of -Heavitree. Peter looked at Brandon. The Patrol Leader shook his head. - -He was outwardly cool and collected; yet the disappearance of Heavitree -without a trace filled him with apprehension. Even a stunned man under -water would be expelling air from his lungs and the bubbles would show -on the surface. The difficulty was that already the yacht had covered -fifty or more yards since the time the accident had occurred, and in -consequence it was futile to attempt to dive after the lad. And yet it -was agonising having to stand and watch and yet do nothing. - -The _Kestrel_ was now hove-to on to the port tack, her head-sheets, -which had not been eased, being taut to wind’ard. The folds of the -spinnaker hung idly over the starboard side between the shrouds and the -forestay. - -With one exception everyone was looking astern. The exception was Eric -Little. Unnoticed by the others he crept cautiously for’ard and began to -gather in the trailing canvas. Hanging on to the rail was the missing -Heavitree, breathless but otherwise none the worse for his immersion. He -had managed to grasp the coaming as he fell, although he was immersed up -to his waist. The spinnaker, completely enveloping him, had effectually -hidden him from view. - -Willing hands assisted Heavitree on deck. The Sea Scouts relieved their -pent-up feelings with a rousing cheer, the noise of which brought Mr. -Grant hurriedly on deck. - -“What’s the matter, lads?” he demanded anxiously, as he blinked in the -strong sunlight. Coming straight from the darkened saloon he could see -little or nothing. “Why are we hove-to?” - -“I fell into the ditch, sir,” replied Heavitree. “Or, nearly. How’s your -hand, sir? Mind you don’t hit it against anything.” - -“Better go below, sir,” suggested Brandon. “We haven’t sighted Portland -Bill yet. I’ll report to you when we do.” - -There was a decided streak of obstinacy in Mr. Grant’s nature and -occasionally it asserted itself. It did now. - -He sat down, still blinking. By this time his eyes were becoming more -accustomed to the sunlight. He noticed the untidily stowed spinnaker, -then he spotted Eric Little. - -“Who’s that, Brandon?” he asked. “What is that lad doing here? How did -he come aboard?” - -“Our prize stowaway,” replied the Patrol Leader. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - The Peril of the Race - - -Late in the afternoon the long-looked-for Portland Bill was sighted—not -on the port bow, but dead ahead. Apparently in the light air the -_Kestrel_ had been carried by an indraught slightly to the nor’ard of -her proper course. Progress had been slow, and in consequence she had -lost her tide and was now making very little against the west-going -stream. - -“It will mean another night at sea, lads,” remarked Mr. Grant, when the -Patrol Leader had reported land in sight. “It will be quite five hours -before we pick up a fair tide, and then, unless the wind holds, we’ll -have to be jolly careful we aren’t swept into Portland Race.” - -“Let me know the course, sir, and I’ll see she keeps to it,” declared -Brandon. “There’s no need for you to do anything. How’s your hand now, -sir?” - -“Better,” replied the Scoutmaster, although he knew perfectly well that -it was far from being right. “I’ll turn out at sunset.” - -“You oughtn’t to, really, sir,” protested Brandon. “Take it easy -to-night. If anything unusual occurs we’ll give you a call.” - -Mr. Grant capitulated. He was still feeling “a bit shaky.” The finger, -thanks to action of numerous poultices, had swollen still more, but -there were no indications of the poison discharging itself. In these -circumstances, an accidental knock or blow might easily undo all the -good that had been done by fomentation. In addition, the Scoutmaster -“had a temperature,” although he kept this knowledge to himself, hoping -that in a few hours’ time it would return to normal. - -“What are we going to do with our stowaway, sir?” asked Brandon. - -“Send him home from the first place we touch at,” replied Mr. Grant. -“It’s unfortunate we cannot signal. His grandparents must be very -anxious about him; but we can send a wire from Swanage.” - -“He’s a queer sort of fellow, isn’t he?” remarked Brandon. - -“Yes, but it’s hardly his fault. It’s the way he’s been brought up,” -replied the Scoutmaster. “He uses those somewhat high-brow expressions -quite naturally, because he’s lived in an atmosphere in which they are -spoken. After all, it’s the same with everyone. A stable boy -unconsciously uses racing slang because he hears it all around him. A -sailor’s expressions are often unintelligible to landsmen, although his -messmates haven’t the slightest difficulty in understanding what he -says. Often we were at a loss to know what the Cornish fisherfolk were -saying. Eric Little’s case is much the same, only in a very much smaller -environment. Well, right-o, Brandon. Carry on, if you will. See that all -hands get a decent meal, then pick your watch and let the rest turn in.” - -Alive to his responsibilities, Brandon went on deck, ordered the -spinnaker to be taken in, and set the _Kestrel_ on her new course. He, -too, realised the dangers of being becalmed at night in the vicinity of -that dangerous expanse of turbulent water known as Portland Race. - -Night came on. The yacht, moving slowly through the calm water, was -steadily losing ground. Although she was pointing seawards, the strong -tide was sweeping her back. The Bill appeared to be receding, but there -was no likelihood of losing sight of the powerful high light on that -famous promontory. With the turn of the tide the leeway would be quickly -made up, but there was the risk of the _Kestrel_ being carried through -the Race before she could gain a sufficient offing to pass it to the -south’ard. - -At ten o’clock Mr. Grant came on deck to look round. It was a perfectly -calm night and the shoreward lights showed up distinctly. - -“We’re still rather close in,” he remarked. “Those are the lights of -Lyme Regis, and more to the east’ard are those of Bridport. I wish we -had had time to visit Bridport. It’s a picturesque little place. There -used to be a quaint expression: ‘Struck with a Bridport dagger.’ Does -anyone know what that means?” - -There was silence for a few moments; but before Mr. Grant could explain, -Eric Little replied: - -“I believe I know: it is a colloquial expression signifying that a -person has been hanged.” - -“Quite right!” exclaimed Mr. Grant approvingly. “Bridport was noted for -rope-making, and also for sailcloth. Now I’ll tell you something more, -and I wonder if you can explain the reason for it. Years ago when the -rope and sailcloth industry was at its height most of the flax was -brought to Bridport in Russian vessels. They used to send the stuff up -to the town in boats. On Saturday nights the Russians made a point of -going into the town, which is some distance from the harbour. The road -between the two places was lighted with oil lamps. Every time the -Russians returned to their ships these lamps were afterwards found to be -extinguished. Why?” - -Several suggestions were forthcoming, but at each of them Mr. Grant -shook his head. - -“The Russian sailors drank the oil,” he explained. “In those days the -lamps were filled with whale-oil, and that was evidently a liquid -appreciated by the Muscovites. . . . Now, Brandon, send the watch below -down. I’ll turn in, since the skipper insists; but call me at once, if -necessary. Good night!” - -Retaining Heavitree as a deck-hand, Brandon prepared for his long vigil. -The wind showed no indication of appearing. The sea was as smooth as -glass, save for the occasional ripples caused by a fish “breaking -surface.” For the next two hours the _Kestrel_ was left to her own -devices, drifting idly, with the dinghy frequently ranging up alongside -as she swung through all the points of the compass. - -At midnight a faint haze obscured the bright light of Portland, which -was now about twelve miles away. Before the light disappeared, Brandon -took a compass-bearing and noted it in the log. Then he resumed his -tedious watch. - -“Four bells!” he announced at length, stirring the torpid Heavitree with -his foot. “You turn in, now, old son, and tell Peter to come on watch.” - -“Where are we?” asked Craddock, as he gained the cockpit. - -Brandon told him, adding the information that the flood tide had now set -in. - -“Haven’t touched the tiller for the last four hours,” he remarked. -“We’re just drifting. This is where a motor would come in handy. Well, -thank goodness, this isn’t the Doldrums, and we ought to get a breeze -soon.” - -At length came that “darkest hour before the dawn,” when human vitality -is supposed to be at its lowest ebb. Through the stillness of the night -came a low rumble. - -“What’s that?” asked Peter. “Thunder?” - -“Don’t think so,” replied his chum. “It’s too prolonged.” - -They listened. The sound continued and seemed to increase in volume -until it reached a distinct rumbling roar. - -“It must be the Race,” declared Brandon. “Of course it’s still a long -way off, but we’re being carried into it.” - -“What’s to be done?” asked Peter. “Anchor?” - -“No use attempting to anchor in over twenty fathoms,” replied the Patrol -Leader. “Let’s get the sweeps to work. It will be something to do, and -we may get her well clear with an hour’s steady work. Gently with them; -don’t disturb the other fellows.” - -Carefully the long ash sweeps were placed in the rowlocks, and by means -of steady strokes the _Kestrel_ was brought round until the yacht’s bows -pointed sou’-sou’-east. The dinghy’s painter no longer trailed in the -water as the little boat followed sedately in the wake of her parent. - -Again the beams of the high light of Portland pierced the darkness, this -time broad on the port beam. The roar of the Race steadily increased. - -“Don’t think we’ll clear it,” muttered Brandon breathlessly, for -sweeping the yacht was heavy and tiring work. - -“I wish it were day,” rejoined Peter. “Then we could see where we are. -How far are we from the Race, do you think?” - -“Quite near enough,” admitted the Patrol Leader. “You’d better inform -Mr. Grant and turn out a couple of hands to man the dinghy. We might be -able to tow the yacht as well as sweep her.” - -Craddock found the Scoutmaster awake. In fact, Mr. Grant had hardly -slept at all. Apart from the still painful state of his arm his anxiety -as to what might happen on the turn of the tide had kept him awake. He -realised the danger. All along that dangerous coast there is no harbour -for which a vessel can make for shelter except at or about the time of -high water. True, there is a smooth passage between the Race and the -Bill, but even then a stranger is apt to get into difficulties and be -swept into the dangerous overfalls unless he times the attempt at a -favourable state of the tide. - -Mr. Grant came on deck. - -“You’ve done all you can, Brandon,” he remarked. “We may be able to tow -her clear. Get the other fellows out and see that the forehatch and -skylights are well secured. We’ll be having plenty of green water over -our decks before very long, I fancy.” - -Craddock was about to haul the dinghy alongside, when he caught sight of -the steaming-lights of a vessel on the starboard quarter. She was, he -judged, about a quarter of a mile away and heading straight for the -_Kestrel_. Above the distant roar of the Race could be distinguished the -steady pulsations of a marine motor. - -“Show a stern light,” ordered Brandon. “She won’t be able to see our -starboard light.” - -Talbot produced a torch and held it pointing in the direction of the -oncoming vessel. Suddenly a succession of “E’s” in Morse flashed from -the stranger; then, after a brief pause, came the question, “What ship -is that?” - -“_Kestrel!_” signalled Talbot in reply. - -“I hope they’ll be the wiser for that,” remarked Carline. - -Then, to the astonishment of all on board, the approaching craft -announced her identity as the _Merlin_, and followed up by asking -whether the _Kestrel_ wanted a tow. - -“Yes, badly,” was the reply. - -In a few minutes the Falmouth Sea Scouts’ yacht was alongside. - -“So we’ve overhauled you,” remarked Scoutmaster Pendennis. “We wondered -what had happened. What made you put to sea in a fog?” - -“Didn’t you get our wire?” countered Mr. Grant. “But explanations can -come later. You’ve arrived at a very opportune moment.” - -“And how’s that?” asked Mr. Pendennis. - -“We’re in danger of being swept through Portland Race, and it looks as -if you are heading straight for it.” - -“Are we, by Jove!” ejaculated the Cornishman. “Yes, I can hear the roar -now. Our engine muffled the sound. Right-o! pass your line. Course, -sou’east?” - -“Sou’-sou’-east would be better,” remarked Mr. Grant. “’Tany rate, day’s -breaking, and we’ll soon see if we’re giving the Race sufficient berth.” - -“Right-o!” rejoined Scoutmaster Pendennis. “We’ll do our best, but we’ve -only an eight horsepower engine.” - -The _Merlin_ forged slowly ahead until she took up the strain of the -tow; then, increasing power, she whisked the _Kestrel_ along at a steady -five knots. - -“You fellows can turn in again,” said Brandon, addressing the Sea Scouts -who had been routed out of their bunks. - -But the lads showed no desire to go below. In the pale grey dawn they -remained on deck, dividing their interest between the _Merlin_ and a -broad belt of white-foamed water barely a couple of miles on the port -hand. Although the sea everywhere else was calm, the Race was one -chaotic mass of broken water, roaring like a wild beast baulked of its -prey. - -“Good old _Merlin_!” exclaimed Talbot. “She’s done the trick!” - -Mr. Grant did not join in the chorus of appreciation. It was yet too -soon to shout. He had his doubts on the ability of the little motor to -carry out its heavy task; for, although both yachts were moving in a -southerly direction at about five knots, the now strong flood tide was -setting in a nor’-easterly direction at a good seven miles an hour. The -question that arose was whether the _Merlin_ and her tow could draw -clear of the Race in time; although there was some consolation in the -fact that the yachts were no longer in danger of being carried into the -centre of that tempestuous waste of water. - -Almost imperceptibly the _Kestrel_ began to feel the influence of the -broken waves. Soon she began to pitch and roll. So did the _Merlin_, to -the accompaniment of a series of heavy jerks on the towing hawser. - -“Why, the Race is coming towards us!” remarked Symington. - -“No, it isn’t,” rejoined Brandon drily. “We’re going towards it. Hang on -to something solid, you fellows. We’ll be getting wet shirts in a brace -of shakes. . . . You all right, sir? Mind that arm!” - -The fellows on the _Merlin_ had by this time noticed the danger that -threatened them. Two of her crew hurriedly paid out more hawser, an act -that at first looked as if the _Merlin_ was about to cast off her -well-nigh helpless consort. Some of the former’s crew who had been -sitting comfortably on the fore-deck came aft hurriedly when they saw -the wall of breaking water approaching. - -A minute later and both yachts were in the thick of it. True, it was but -the tail end of the dreaded Race, but the sight of the agitated mass of -water was none the less awesome. At one moment the _Merlin_ was towing -the _Kestrel_ through a calm sea; at the next both craft, pitching, -heeling, and staggering, were being assailed by the furious waves. - -Again and again the _Kestrel_ dipped her bowsprit, flung her bows high -as her stern dropped into the trough of the sea. Spars and solid gear -rattled, canvas shook and flapped furiously as boom and gaff, bringing -up with disconcerting jerks, threatened to shake the mast out of her, -the while the _Merlin_, similarly assailed, was doing her best to win -through. Suddenly a particularly vicious breaker surged over her -quarter. The motor stopped. Both yachts were now helpless in the grip of -the dreaded overfalls. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - “To be Returned in Due Course” - - -The situation was desperate. The _Merlin_ was now a source of peril to -the yacht she had done her best to aid. There was no wind. The fiercely -flapping canvas was useless; equally out of the question was it to -attempt to make use of the oars, for at one moment the blades would be -high in the air, at another buried by the rush of the irregular and -foaming waves. Held by the towing hawser, the two yachts were in -momentary danger of colliding as they swung round almost parallel to -each other and with less than five yards of chaotic water between them. - -In a trice, Brandon realised the danger, made up his mind, and acted. At -the imminent risk of being either jerked or washed overboard he fought -his way for’ard, hanging on desperately as he battled towards his goal. -One moment thigh deep in water; at another sprawling on the ridge formed -by the steeply heeling cabin-top, he progressed foot by foot. With -bleeding knees and broken finger-nails, well-nigh breathless with his -struggle, the Patrol Leader contrived to throw himself flat upon the -heaving fore-deck. Then, hanging on with his left hand, he succeeded in -casting off the rope that held the _Kestrel_ to the _Merlin_. - -Then, obtaining a grip with both hands, Brandon waited to witness the -fruits of his hazardous task. At first it seemed as if the act were in -vain. The two craft showed no tendency to drift apart; on the contrary, -it looked as if they would close. Had they done so, the fate of each -would have been sealed, for the strongest yacht ever built would not be -proof against the terrific hammering of the two hulls in that tumultuous -sea. - -After a few minutes of anxious suspense, the distance between the two -vessels began to increase. The _Merlin_ swung round until her bows -pointed in the opposite direction to her previous course. As she rolled, -the crew of the _Kestrel_ could see the Cornish Sea Scouts struggling -desperately in a futile attempt to restart the motor. - -For another five minutes the ordeal continued; then, almost as suddenly -as she had entered the Race, the _Kestrel_ found herself in -comparatively calm water, with the final unwelcome gift of about fifty -gallons of the English Channel being thrown in her cockpit. - -The _Merlin_ was not long in following her consort’s example, and, with -the roar of the turbulent overfalls still dinning in their ears, the -crews of both yachts set about repairing the damage done during their -exciting quarter of an hour. - -Owing to the fact that they had missed the most dangerous part of -Portland Race both craft had come off comparatively lightly. Twenty -minutes’ hard work at the pump freed the _Kestrel_ of the water that had -found its way on board. Her mizzen-boom had been sprung close to the -gooseneck; one of the panes of the skylight had been broken; -while—worst of all—her dinghy’s top-strake had been badly smashed -owing to the boat being thrown violently against the _Kestrel’s_ -quarter. - -Three of the Sea Scouts had received minor injuries owing to the severe -and erratic motion of the yacht; Eric Little was “down and out” with -sea-sickness; while Molly, the pup, who had been locked in the saloon, -was nearly frantic with joy when Peter went below to see how she had -fared. - -“What’s wrong with your engine?” enquired Mr. Grant, hailing the -_Merlin_. - -“Water on plug and in the carburetter,” replied Scoutmaster Pendennis. -“We’ll get her going soon, I hope. I’ve heard a lot about Portland Race, -but I never expected it to be like that on a calm day. Hello! what’s the -matter with your hand?” - -“Poisoned it,” explained Mr. Grant. “It’s getting better now. I say: -what do you propose to do?” - -“We’re carrying on,” replied Pendennis. “We want to make Yarmouth or -Lymington to-day. We’ll tow you until a breeze springs up.” - -“We’ll have to put into Swanage,” announced Mr. Grant. “We’ve a stowaway -on board and we want to land him.” - -“How interesting,” rejoined the Cornishman. “All right, Swanage it is -for both of us. We want more petrol, although we may have enough to -carry us on if the breeze does show up.” - -Both yachts, now being propelled by sweeps, were now standing up Channel -at a distance of about ten yards between them, so that the crews could -keep up a running fire of conversation. The while the Cornish Sea Scouts -were tackling the still refractory motor. - -It was not until the two craft had practically drifted two miles to the -east’ard of the Shambles Lightship that the long-hoped-for breeze sprang -up—a steady sou’westerly one. - -In grand style the two yachts cut through the water, heading for the -still distant St. Alban’s Head. In point of speed there was little to -choose, for although the _Merlin_ had a slightly greater displacement -and carried more canvas, this advantage was countered by the drag of her -now inactive propeller. - -“We’ve got to go through another race, lads,” observed Mr. Grant at -breakfast. “That’s the one off St. Alban’s, but it won’t be anything -like the one off Portland.” - -“What causes them, sir?” asked Carline. - -“It’s a sort of submarine steeplechase,” explained the Scoutmaster. “A -strong tidal water sweeping over a fairly deep and level bed of the sea -suddenly encounters a submerged ledge of rocks. The whole of that mass -of water has to find its way across in less than half the previous -depth, and since the level of the water cannot be materially increased, -the result is that the rate of the flow of water has to be greatly -increased and causes a succession of overfalls. . . . Well, Eric: -feeling better? Good! Make a decent meal, my lad, ’cause you’ve a long -journey in front of you.” - -“Is it very much further to Chichester?” asked the youth. - -“We’re sending you home to Dartmouth.” - -“I think you are labouring under a misapprehension, sir,” rejoined the -precocious youth. “I’m on my way to visit my aunt and uncle at -Chichester—and I won’t go back to Dartmouth! If you won’t take me, I’ll -walk the rest of the way.” - -“We’ll see,” remarked the Scoutmaster oracularly, and changed the topic -of conversation. - -An hour later the _Kestrel_ and the _Merlin_ rounded St. Alban’s Head, -where, with the exception of a sullen swell, there was little to -indicate the locality of the ofttimes dangerous Race. Followed a run -along the rocky coast in full view of the famous caves where smugglers -and wreckers once plied their infamous trade. Durlstone Head was left -astern and a course shaped to clear the dangerous Peveril Ledge. Then -the whole expanse of Swanage Bay opened into view. - -Both yachts anchored in less than seven feet of water just inside the -shelter of Swanage Pier. The Cornish lads went ashore in their quest for -petrol and provisions, and with them went the Sea Scouts of the -_Kestrel_ with the exception of Craddock, who, with Mr. Grant and the -stowaway, remained on board. - -Brandon was the bearer of a telegraph form on which Mr. Grant had -written: “Have found a stray grandson; please wire instructions.” - -Having dispatched the wire, the Patrol Leader and Heavitree made their -way towards Peveril Point in order to give Molly a run on a closely -cropped turf. - -Waiting until a reply might be forthcoming, Brandon called at the -post-office. There was no answer. After another half-hour had elapsed he -called again, still without success. From the beach he semaphored the -news to Mr. Grant. - -The delay was getting serious. The _Merlin_ was ready to resume her -voyage. There was a fair wind and tide, but if the start were delayed -much longer a strong adverse tide would be encountered in the Needles -channel, which meant that perhaps the Sea Scouts would be compelled to -spend another anxious night afloat. - -“You’d better push on, Pendennis,” suggested Mr. Grant. “We’ll follow -and pick you up at Lymington.” - -The Cornishman fell in with the idea. As a matter of fact, he -particularly wanted to give his crew a good night’s rest in some -sheltered harbour within The Wight; and, having the West of England -yachtsman’s typical respect for the mudbanks and erratic tides of the -Solent, he did not relish the possibility of having to navigate that -intricate waterway in the hours of darkness. - -So the _Merlin_ “carried on.” - -Craddock then semaphored a message to his chum telling him to remain -ashore until one o’clock, but to keep the other Sea Scouts together in -case they had to re-embark in a hurry. - -It was not until five minutes to the hour that the expected telegram -arrived. It read: - -“Administer suitable chastisement. Return delinquent at your -convenience.” - -The Scoutmaster made a wry face when the telegram was handed him. - -“That merely confirms my opinion, Brandon,” he remarked in a low voice. -“The lad’s grandfather is not only very precise in his mannerisms; he is -evidently a bit of a martinet. I’ll say this for Eric: he might be a -queer little chap, but he’s not a sneak. It was only by quite an -accident that I found out that he has been frequently thrashed for minor -offences. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’ might be all very well if -carried out with fairness and moderation—although I very much doubt the -wisdom of personal chastisement, except under very special -circumstances. However, since Mr. Little gives me a tolerably free hand, -I’ll return the delinquent at my convenience. That is: we’ll take him -along with us, and hand him over to his uncle at Chichester.” - -“That’s a topping idea, sir!” exclaimed the Patrol Leader. “We’ll do our -best to give the lad a good time.” - -“Then tell Eric the news,” continued Mr. Grant. “Or, better, send him -down to me. Get under way as sharp as you can, Brandon. The _Merlin_ has -a good start, but with luck we ought to rejoin her before sunset.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - The _Kestrel_ to the Rescue - - -The Sea Scouts needed no second bidding to get under way. The remote -possibility of being able to overhaul the _Merlin_ acted as a spur. By -this time each lad knew his particular duty, and in very quick time main -and mizzen sails were set, head-sails hoisted in stops, and the cable -hove short. - -Then, at the Patrol Leader’s word of command, the anchor was weighed and -stowed in its customary place, the jib and staysail were broken out and -trimmed to catch the favouring breeze, and within five minutes from the -order to get under way the _Kestrel_ was heading for the distant Solent. - -Already the _Merlin_ was hull-down, only her canvas showing above the -skyline. She was roughly eight miles ahead. - -Outside Swanage Bay the wind freshened, coming offshore in irregular -gusts that swept over the lofty chalk cliffs of Ballard Down. The tide -was still running to the east’ard with considerable strength, but there -was very little sea to speak of. Even a sailing dinghy could be out -without any danger of shipping water. - -Presently a craft under sail and motor overtook the _Kestrel_. It was a -flat-bottomed contraption measuring, perhaps, twenty feet in length, and -was propelled by an outboard motor. - -Brandon regarded the boat critically. It certainly looked a freak. -Apparently the designer had originally intended to give her plenty of -beam and a broad transom; but, changing his mind, had tapered the stern -until it was about nine inches in width. Consequently, and owing to the -weight of the heavy engine clamped on the stern, the boat had very -little bearing surface aft and a small amount of freeboard. - -In the stern-sheets sat a fat-faced, smug-looking individual rigged out -in a peaked cap and blue reefer coat with brass buttons. His profile -reminded Brandon of a parrot, for his nose was inclined to be hooked, -while from underneath a pair of full lips an insignificant receding chin -heightened the resemblance to a bird. The rest of the “crew” consisted -of three women and two children. The sheet of the lugsail, Brandon -noticed, was made fast. - -As this freakish craft overhauled the _Kestrel_, passing her at a -distance of about twenty yards to wind’ard, the brass-buttoned helmsman -favoured the Sea Scouts with a superior sort of smile. - -“What a comic outfit!” exclaimed Craddock to his chum. “That chap -evidently thinks he’s the goods.” - -“He’s certainly pleased with himself at having overhauled us,” rejoined -the Patrol Leader. “But wait a bit. There’s a patch of broken water -ahead. Let’s see how that old orange-box will take it.” - -Just then Mr. Grant came on deck. He had been writing in the cabin, and -on hearing the noise of the motor had glanced through the scuttle. He, -too, had not failed to notice the supercilious grin on the fellow’s -flabby features. - -“That man’s looking for trouble,” he observed. “There ought to be a -‘Society for the Protection of Guests of Half-Baked Amateur Marine -Motorists.’ Up helm a little Peter; keep in his wake. Unless I’m much -mistaken, that freak craft will be in difficulties before very long.” - -The _Kestrel_ was now about four hundred yards to the sou’west of Old -Harry, that well-known chalk pinnacle forming the eastern extremity of -the Isle of Purbeck. The motor boat was by this time a couple of hundred -yards ahead and making straight for a well-defined tide-rip caused by -the tidal current flowing over a ledge of submerged rock running out -from Standfast Point. - -The greenhorn at the helm of the motor boat failed to notice the popple -of disturbed water. His attention seemed to be centred upon the -_Kestrel_, as if he were still gloating over his superior speed. - -Soon the boat began to pound heavily. Her narrow stern dipped. Spray -flew over the engine, putting it out of action. The metal rudder was -totally inadequate to keep the flat-bottomed craft on its course. A puff -of wind filled the sail, causing the boat to pay off and heel. - -Too late the brass-buttoned novice realised the danger. When he did, he -could do nothing beyond attempting to restart the engine. His weight as -he leant over the narrow stern made matters worse. A sea poured -completely over the weather quarter. The boat still lived although half -full of water. - -Panic seized the man. He had lost his yachting cap—it was floating on -the water that swirled over the bottom-boards—and abject fear was -plainly written on his face, while his long hair streamed in the breeze. - -The while the sail was taking the full force of the wind, for no attempt -had been made to free the sheet. - -Suddenly, as the boat shipped more water, the mast became unshipped and -disappeared over the side, taking the sail with it. The boat, no longer -making way, fell into the trough of the sea and took in water on both -sides. - -“Cut away your gear and ride to it!” shouted Brandon, for the _Kestrel_ -was now within hailing distance. - -The advice, intelligible to anyone acquainted with even an elementary -knowledge of seamanship, was lost as far as the bewildered and -panic-stricken owner of the motor boat was concerned. He could only wave -his arms wildly and shout for help. The women, although obviously badly -scared, at least had the sense to keep still. - -The Scoutmaster glanced at Brandon and nodded. The Patrol Leader -understood. It was a silent intimation that he was to exercise his -discretion in the operation of bringing the _Kestrel_ alongside the -fast-foundering boat. - -“Stand by to go about!” ordered Brandon. - -Two of the Sea Scouts jumped to tend the head-sheets. Heavitree, -boat-hook in hand, took up his station at the main-shrouds. Craddock was -at the tiller. The others stood by ready to help the “crew” of the motor -boat into safety. - -“Up helm a bit . . . at that!” exclaimed Brandon. - -The _Kestrel_, with the wind well abaft the beam, flew past the now -almost waterlogged boat. Mistaking the nature of the manœuvre, the -brass-buttoned man waved his arms in redoubled frenzy and literally -howled when he thought the ketch was leaving him to his fate. - -Brandon knew quite well what he was doing. To attempt to bring the -_Kestrel_ alongside with a quartering wind would result in the boat -being crushed, or at least it would have been impossible to get a hold -and retain it. There was only one course practicable, and that was to -run to lee’ard, go about, and shoot up into the wind, losing way within -a few feet of the object for succour. - -“Lee-o!” exclaimed Brandon, loudly and clearly. - -Peter put the helm down. Talbot and Symington let fly the jib and -foresail sheets; while Wilson hauled away at the slack of the mainsheet. -Still keeping the tiller hard over, Craddock attended to the -mizzen-sheet. - -The _Kestrel_ came about as gracefully as her namesake, turning slowly -and unfalteringly. Then, kept down in the eye of the wind, she forged -ahead with gradually diminishing way until Heavitree could grip the -gunwale of the motor boat with the boat-hook. - -By this time the boat had been swamped. Her stern, weighted down by the -outboard engine, was six feet beneath the surface, while the bows, kept -afloat by the air under the fore-deck, were about a couple of feet above -water. To the still floating portion the “crew” clung, while the owner, -his face green with terror, abandoned his waterlogged craft and made a -jump for the _Kestrel’s_ shrouds. Forgetting the difficulties of “taking -off” from a submerged platform, he leapt short but continued to grip the -rail. There he hung, submerged to his shoulders, puffing like a grampus -as he struggled in vain to haul himself on board the yacht. - -The sight of the selfish, cowardly man made Mr. Grant lose his temper—a -thing he rarely did. He realised that with the fellow’s bulk between the -yacht’s side and the sinking motor boat the difficulty of getting the -rest of the party on board was enormously increased. Time, too, was -precious, for the _Kestrel_ would soon “pay off” and gather way, in -which case the manœuvre of getting alongside the waterlogged craft would -have to be repeated. - -“Let go, you idiot!” roared the Scoutmaster. “Haven’t you heard of -‘women and children first’?” - -The man refused to do so. - -“Stamp on his fingers, Heavitree!” exclaimed Mr. Grant, realising that -if a calamity likely to become a fatality were to be avoided, drastic -measures were absolutely imperative. - -Heavitree was unable to carry out these instructions. All his efforts -were concentrated upon an attempt to retain a hold on the boat and to -prevent it sinking still further as the women strove to raise themselves -out of the water. - -Just then the partly submerged boat surged against the _Kestrel’s_ side. -The craven owner’s generous proportions acted as an animated fender, but -the shock well-nigh winded him and caused him to relax his grip. - -In a trice Talbot grasped him by his long hair and dragged him aft, -where Craddock assisted in hauling the man on deck. - -Meanwhile Brandon and Symington set to work like Trojans to tranship the -badly scared women and children. They were not a moment too soon. The -_Kestrel_ was forging ahead. - -“I can’t hold her much longer, sir!” exclaimed Heavitree. - -“Let her go,” replied Mr. Grant briefly. - -Heavitree disengaged the boat-hook. The swamped motor boat drifted -astern. Bubbles of air were escaping from the uptilted fore-deck. - -“Shall we have a shot at salving her?” asked Brandon. - -The Scoutmaster shook his head. - -“Let her go,” he replied. “She won’t have another chance to drown -anyone. . . . There she goes! Bon voyage!” - -The freak craft disappeared from view. Mr. Grant glanced dispassionately -at the late owner, who was still in an abject state. - -“The yellow streak has shown itself, I notice,” remarked the -Scoutmaster. “Well, it’s no use asking _him_ questions. We’ll have to -land the crew somewhere. I wonder where they came from?” - -“Where shall we make for, sir?” asked Brandon. - -“Studland,” replied Mr. Grant. “It’s just round the corner. Give that -point a wide berth.” - -With a fair tide and beam wind, the _Kestrel_ opened into the wide -expanse of Studland Bay. It would have meant a tedious beat shorewards -owing to the cliffs blanketing the wind, but fortunately a motor -passenger-boat happened to be leaving the shore, and in response to a -semaphored message she ran alongside the yacht. - -Five minutes later the still considerably scared survivors of the sunken -boat were transhipped to the passenger craft, and the _Kestrel_, running -before the wind, resumed her attempt to overhaul the far-distant -_Merlin_. - -By this time Mr. Grant had recovered his customary even temper. - -“After all, perhaps the silly ass couldn’t help being in a fearful -funk,” he remarked. “When all’s said and done, bravery largely consists -of being afraid of being afraid. . . . What’s that, Wilson? They’ve made -the saloon slopping wet? Well, mop it up. That’ll be another Good Turn -to your credit.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - Becalmed - - -With all sail set, even the topsail and spinnaker, the _Kestrel_ tore -through the water, shaping a course to pass one mile to the south’ard of -Hengistbury Head, a bold promontory situated roughly midway between Old -Harry and the Needles. - -The _Merlin_ was no longer in sight. In vain Brandon, with a pair of -binoculars, swung round his neck, went aloft, where, perched on the -cross-trees, he brought his glasses to bear upon a limited expanse of -horizon that showed between the straining canvas. He could see the brown -sails of half a dozen fishing boats and the smoke of a steamer, but of -the Cornish Sea Scouts’ craft not a sign. - -“They’ve too good a pair of heels for us,” he remarked, when he regained -the deck. - -“What’s that?” asked Heavitree, pointing slightly on the starboard bow. -“There’s something white. Isn’t that the _Merlin’s_ sails?” - -“I believe you’re right,” said Carline. “Only she’s a long way out. Let -me have the glasses, Brandon.” - -The Patrol Leader handed over the binoculars. Carline levelled them at -the supposed cloud of canvas. - -“Why, it’s a white cliff rising out of the sea,” he exclaimed. - -“Yes, the Isle of Wight,” explained Brandon. “It puzzled me at first. -From the cross-trees I could make out the Needles. If——” - -A dull thud that shook the yacht from truck to keel interrupted the -Patrol Leader’s words. For a brief instant the _Kestrel_ seemed to stop -dead. It might have been only an illusion, but everyone on deck thought -so. - -“We’re aground!” exclaimed Talbot. - -Brandon glanced over the side. The yacht was still carrying way and -lifting easily to the waves. - -“There’s plenty of water everywhere,” he replied. “We must have struck -something, though.” - -The jar brought Mr. Grant on deck to see what was amiss. - -“We struck something pretty heavy,” he remarked. “Nip below, Peter, and -look under the floorboards in the fo’c’sle. She may have strained a -plank.” - -Craddock did so. He had not been gone more than a few seconds when the -reason of the alarm became evident. About a hundred yards on the -starboard quarter an enormous porpoise broke surface, followed by -another. Both animals were badly scared, for they promptly dived and -were not seen again. - -Presently Peter returned with the information that the yacht was as -tight as a bottle. Thanks to her heavy build she had escaped damage, -although a vessel with slighter scantlings might easily have had her bow -planking stove in. - -At length Hengistbury Head was brought abeam, and for ten minutes the -_Kestrel_ had a pretty stiff hammering over Christchurch Ledge. By this -time the Needles and the multi-coloured cliffs of Alum Bay were clearly -discernible, while right ahead rose the slender tower of Hurst Castle -lighthouse. - -“Look!” exclaimed Talbot. “Isn’t that the _Merlin_?” - -He pointed to a yacht about three miles dead ahead. Brandon brought the -binoculars into action. - -“Yes, you’re right, Talbot,” he replied. “It is the _Merlin_. She’s -becalmed.” - -“Then, we may overhaul her yet,” said Wilson. - -“She’ll use her motor,” declared Craddock. - -“If they can get the thing to go,” added Brandon. “But it’s rather -strange. Here we are busting along with every stitch of canvas drawing, -and they haven’t a breath of wind. The sea’s as smooth as glass a mile -ahead.” - -As far as the _Kestrel_ was concerned the breeze held strong and true -until she drew within a hundred yards of the Cornish Sea Scouts’ craft. -Then the wind failed utterly. In the grip of the now adverse tide both -yachts began to lose ground. Ahead and only three miles away lay the -Solent—looking alluring and peaceful in the rays of the late afternoon -sun. Without the aid of a steady and favourable breeze or that of a -powerful motor the two yachts were not likely to gain their desired -harbour during the next six hours. - -Keeping her now useless canvas set, the _Kestrel_ dropped anchor. The -_Merlin_ continued to drift until she came abreast of the Aberstour Sea -Scouts’ craft; then she, too, let go her anchor. - -“You were lucky to carry a breeze so long,” shouted the Patrol Leader of -the _Merlin_. “We’ve been becalmed for quite two hours. We got within a -quarter of a mile of the lighthouse when the tide changed. Look where we -are now!” - -“Why didn’t you use your motor?” asked Craddock. - -“We haven’t been able to get the thing going,” was the reply. “We’ve -been trying all day, and we haven’t given up hope yet, although we do -feel a bit fed up.” - -“Can I give you a hand?” asked Peter, who possessed a sound knowledge of -internal combustion engines. - -“If you will,” replied the Cornish Patrol Leader. - -Craddock jumped into the dinghy, cast off the painter, and rowed to the -_Merlin_. It required a considerable amount of hard rowing, for the tide -was now swirling past and the dinghy was large and heavy. - -“What have you done?” he enquired, as he gained the _Merlin’s_ deck. - -“Tried everything,” was the reply. “The mag.’s all right; there’s quite -a healthy spark, but she won’t even fire her dope.” - -Peter made the usual preliminary tests. Pouring a few drops of petrol -into the plug and placing the latter on the cylinder, he found that the -spirit ignited readily enough; but, as the Patrol Leader had said, the -“dope” would not fire when the plug was in position. - -“Tried a spare plug?” asked Craddock. - -“Four—no good,” was the terse and emphatic reply. - -Carefully overhauling the high-tension wire, Peter called attention to -the fact that the insulation was rather worn at a spot where the wire -crossed one of the bearers of the cockpit floor. - -“Yes,” agreed the Cornish lad, “I noticed that; but if there is a short -there’d be no spark at all. As it is, the plug has quite a healthy -spark.” - -“Well, try now,” suggested Craddock. “No; don’t replace the floorboards. -Stand astride of the gap.” - -At the first swing of the starting handle the motor fired and continued -to do so, “ticking over” with the throttle only just open. - -“Well, I’m dashed!” ejaculated the _Merlin’s_ engineer. “What did you -do?” - -“Nothing,” replied Peter. “Now replace the floorboards.” - -As soon as the rectangular-shaped woodwork was placed in position the -motor stopped. - -“That beats me!” remarked the Patrol Leader. - -“There’s your trouble,” declared Craddock, removing and overturning the -floorboard. “See that steel plate?” - -He pointed to the double strip of metal forming the edge of a slot to -take the reversing lever. - -“It’s bearing directly upon the high-tension wire, and the continual -vibration has damaged the insulation. The motor fired when the -floorboard was up, but when it was in position the metal touched the -wire and caused a short circuit. Wrap some insulating tape round the -wire—it would be as well to cut a notch in that beam to let the wire -bed itself better—and you won’t have any more bother.” - -“My word! You’re a smart fellow!” exclaimed the other, with frank -admiration. - -“Not at all,” protested Craddock. “You see, I had exactly the same -trouble once on board our old boat, the _Puffin_, and I had to get -another fellow to put it right.” - -“’Tany rate, you’ve done a very Good Turn,” declared Mr. Pendennis. -“We’ll try and return it by giving the _Kestrel_ a tow. I don’t say that -we’ll succeed against this tide, but we’ll have a good shot at it.” - -The Falmouth Scoutmaster hailed the _Kestrel_. - -“I say, Grant!” he exclaimed. “We’re going to give you a tow. Do you -know your way in? I don’t, except for the directions in the ‘Channel -Pilot’; but which is Fort Victoria? Look here, do you mind coming on -board and piloting us?” - -Mr. Grant accepted the invitation. Craddock returned to the _Kestrel_, -and preparations were made to pass a hawser from the _Merlin_ to the -other yacht. Both anchors were weighed simultaneously and the strenuous -effort began. - -Slowly yet surely the two vessels approached Hurst Channel. Ahead could -be seen a confused turmoil of broken sea as the pent-up water of the -Solent forced its way through the narrow passage between Hurst Castle -and the Isle of Wight. - -It was now that local knowledge came in most usefully. Except for one -point ominously named “The Trap,” the beach at Hurst Castle is steep-to, -the depth increasing to fifteen fathoms within a few yards of the shore. -By keeping close in, Mr. Grant knew that the full force of the tide -would not only be avoided, but that there would also be found a tidal -eddy in their favour. - -“You can rely upon the motor, I hope?” he enquired. “If it should go -wrong, we’ll find ourselves in a very dangerous situation.” - -Receiving an assurance on that point, Mr. Grant ordered the helm to be -starboarded a little. - -Gradually the slow progress increased until, aided by the -counter-current, the _Merlin_ and the _Kestrel_ seemed to jump ahead. -They were now within their own length of the beach. Ahead lay “The -Trap,” and off it a broiling tide which, if it caught the _Merlin_ on -her port bow, would swing her out into the full strength of the ebb. - -Edging cautiously, the _Merlin_ approached the crucial spot. She -appeared to stop dead. The strain on the towing hawser eased. The -_Kestrel_ continued to decrease her distance, making straight for the -dangerous ledge. To Brandon at the helm it seemed as if a titanic hand -was gripping the keel and shaking the whole boat. He could do nothing. -The rudder seemed useless, and yet the yacht was heading for -destruction. - -Suddenly the _Merlin_ forged ahead. She had crawled past the dangerous -point and was now aided by a favourable eddy. With a staggering jerk the -hawser took up the strain. The _Kestrel_ leapt ahead, her keel missing -the steeply shelving ledge by inches. - -In another five minutes both craft were stemming the relatively weak -tide off the mud-flats of the Hampshire shore. - -“Near thing that,” remarked Heavitree. “I thought we should have had to -have jumped for it that time.” - -“If we had, we should have stood as much chance as a mouse in a pail of -water,” rejoined Brandon, glancing at the maelstrom astern. “Next time I -think I’d rather wait till the tide turns.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - The Admiral - - -“What’s that fellow staring at us for?” asked Talbot. - -“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Symington carelessly, as he stooped to put a -final polish on his shore-going boots. “It’s the thing to do afloat. -Everyone does, and it’s taken as a sort of compliment to the craft you -happen to be aboard.” - -“But, just you look at him,” persisted Talbot. - -It was the morning following the arrival of the _Kestrel_ and the -_Merlin_ in Lymington River. Both craft were brought up on Long Reach -and just above the second beacon. As the east-going tide would not run -before the afternoon, and as it was almost a hopeless proposition to -attempt to stem the adverse tide, the crews of both boats had arranged -to go ashore in the forenoon, and were consequently “smartening -themselves up” for the occasion. - -Symington gave a casual glance. Then he looked a second time. Evidently -Talbot’s wonder was justifiable, for breasting the ebb-tide was an open, -centre-board sailing boat in the stern-sheets of which sat the only -occupant. - -He was a bronzed-complexioned man of about forty, with iron-grey hair -and a white “torpedo” beard. His beetling brows were conspicuous by -their long, white hairs, overhanging dark and deep-set eyes. He wore a -blue reefer suit and a peaked cap cocked at a rakish angle over one eye. -As Talbot had remarked, he was staring—although it looked more like a -glare—straight at the _Kestrel_. - -The _Kestrel_ had anchored about fifty yards lower down the stream than -the _Merlin_, and was in consequence nearer to the approaching boat. - -Even as Symington looked the bearded man put his helm down with the -evident intention of coming alongside. - -“Someone to see you, sir!” he announced, addressing Mr. Grant, who had -just finished shaving. - -The rest of the crew of the _Kestrel_ came on deck. Talbot and Carline -stood by with fenders; Symington prepared to take the stranger’s -painter; while the others lined up behind Mr. Grant, standing smartly at -“alert.” - -But instead of running alongside the man let his sheets fly, with the -result that the boat lost way and, only just stemming the tide, remained -practically level with the _Kestrel_. - -Then he stood up, almost bursting blood-vessels in his unaccountable -anger. - -“Confound you, sir!” he roared. “Don’t you know who I am?” - -“’Fraid I don’t,” replied Mr. Grant mildly. “Unless,” he added -cheerfully, “unless you are the harbour master.” - -“Insolence, sir! Rank insolence!” blared the man. “Why don’t you salute? -Why haven’t you dipped your ensign? I’m the Admiral commanding the -Atlantic Fleet!” - -For a moment the Scoutmaster was nonplussed. Obviously the enraged -individual was a lunatic and possibly a dangerous one. The situation had -to be handled delicately. The best thing to do, he decided, was to -humour the man. Fortunately the crew had taken their cue from their -Scoutmaster and had refrained from roaring with laughter. - -“I am sorry, sir,” said Mr. Grant. “I failed to recognise you.” - -“That’s no excuse,” stormed the man. “You’ve failed to pay proper -respect to your commanding officer, sir! Consider yourself under -arrest!” - -“Very good, sir,” replied the Scoutmaster. - -The while he was working out a very difficult problem. If the intruder -were as fierce as he looked—and in spite of his age he was active and -muscular—he was a positive danger. Perhaps before the united efforts of -the Sea Scouts could place him under restraint he might inflict severe -injuries on some of them. Handicapped by his injured hand, Mr. Grant -realised that he could do little from a physical point of view. - -On the other hand, he could not continue to temporise indefinitely. If -Mr. Pendennis could be communicated with, without exciting the man’s -suspicions, something might be done, for the Cornish Scoutmaster was a -huge, hefty fellow with no small reputation as a wrestler in a county -where wrestling as a sport holds a high position. - -Just then the madman noticed that his boat was adrift. He had neglected -to make fast the painter, and owing to his strange behaviour the Sea -Scouts had not given the boat a thought. Already the little sailing -craft, with her sails still out, was drifting to lee’ard. - -“Quartermaster of the Watch!” shouted the intruder. “Who gave you orders -to take my barge from the——” - -He paused abruptly. In his disordered brain was a faint realisation that -there was no accommodation ladder to this craft. Its absence puzzled -him. - -Suddenly he grasped Carline by the shoulder and hurled him overboard. It -was done so swiftly and unexpectedly that no one had time to raise even -a finger to attempt to prevent it; but the next instant Brandon and -Craddock threw themselves upon the madman. - -There was little room on the waterway for a struggle—merely a space of -about thirty inches between the raised cabin-top and the side of the -yacht; but in spite of limited surroundings the affray was a strenuous -one. - -To the credit of the two Sea Scouts it must be recorded that neither -lost his temper, in spite of the fact that they had seen Carline tossed -into the ditch. - -The madman fought desperately, using his fists successfully. It was -evident that he had been a trained boxer; yet there was wanting the -necessary co-operation between the brain and his fists. - -Contenting himself with parrying the man’s deliberate blows, the Patrol -Leader kept his opponent busy while Craddock contrived to get behind the -infuriated intruder. Then, gripping the man round his waist, Peter threw -him on his back upon the cabin-top. - -The struggle was not yet over. Again and again the maniac sought to -regain his feet. Wrenching one arm free, he struck out. Brandon gripped -him by the wrist and held on. Still the man resisted; yet -notwithstanding his fury he made no effort to use his feet against his -youthful antagonists. - -He was visibly tiring. So were Brandon and Craddock, but not to such an -extent. It was then that Heavitree joined in the fray. Deftly passing a -rope round the madman’s ankle and taking a turn with the end to one of -the runners, he soon had the man reduced to a state of helplessness; -while Brandon completed the business by securing the fellow’s arms -behind his back with his scarf. - -Meanwhile one of the crew of the _Merlin_ who happened to be on deck had -raised the alarm, and the yacht’s dinghy, manned by four Sea Scouts, -with Mr. Pendennis in the stern-sheets, came at top speed towards the -_Kestrel_. - -At the same time Carline was returning with the maniac’s boat. Finding -himself overboard, the Sea Scout thought that since he was in the water -he might just as well secure the drifting boat. This he did. Then, -lowering the centre-board and trimming the sheets, he sailed the little -craft alongside the _Kestrel_ just as the _Merlin’s_ dinghy arrived upon -the scene. - -“Hello! What’s the trouble?” enquired Scoutmaster Pendennis. - -Mr. Grant tapped his forehead significantly. - -“Is that so?” continued the Cornishman. “Poor fellow! I wonder where he -came from. As a matter of fact, I thought you’d had a visit from the -escaped convict. Haven’t you heard? It’s in this morning’s paper. A -prisoner got away from Parkhurst yesterday afternoon. It is supposed -that he stole a boat and crossed to the mainland. There’s a boat missing -at Yarmouth. Any damage done?” - -Brandon and Craddock, breathing heavily, shook their heads. Heavitree -had barked his knuckles in the struggle, but decided that “it was -nothing to write home about.” The madman, exhausted by his efforts, was -lying comparatively still, but apparently uninjured. - -The rapid beats of a steamer’s paddles caused a general rush to fend off -the boats lying alongside the _Kestrel_. One of the passenger boats -plying between Yarmouth and Lymington was coming up the river and -throwing out a tremendous wash. Further down stream anchored yachts were -rolling heavily in the breaking swell, while tons of water were receding -from the mud-flats in advance of the quickly moving vessel. - -As she passed, one of the passengers standing aft noticed the bound -figure on the _Kestrel’s_ deck and called his companions’ attention to -it. Then, raising his hands trumpet-wise to his mouth, he shouted: - -“We’ll come for him as soon as we can.” - -The steamer continued on her way to the pier, leaving the _Kestrel_ -rolling so heavily in her swell that Heavitree had to steady the -helpless captive lest he should be jerked overboard. - -Half an hour later a large rowing boat with a boatman and the two -passengers from the steamer came alongside. - -“So you’ve got him, sir,” said one of the latter. “I hope he didn’t give -you much trouble.” - -“Not much,” replied Mr. Grant. “Who is he?” - -The attendant, for such he was, explained. The madman was an inmate of a -private mental hospital a few miles from Yarmouth. Usually he was quite -docile, but there were occasions when he became violent. More than once -by a display of considerable cunning he had broken out of the -establishment, and invariably he had made his way to the little seaport -and had taken possession of an unattended boat. - -“We guessed he’d be making for Lymington,” continued the man. “When I -heard Mr. Lucas’s boat was missing, I said to my mate, ‘The Admiral’s up -to his old trick again.’ We call him The Admiral, because he’s always -under the delusion that he is one. Of course, the police must come to -the conclusion that the boat was taken by the fellow who got away from -Parkhurst yesterday, though I told them they were wrong. A desperate -chap, six foot one such as he is, wouldn’t risk showing himself in -Yarmouth, if he wanted to steal a boat. Glad we didn’t come across him -when we were looking for The Admiral last night. He’s serving a long -term for house-breaking with violence, and I don’t envy the policeman -who has to tackle him. Well, sir, we’ll take charge of The Admiral, if -you don’t mind.” - -“I don’t mind in the least,” replied Mr. Grant. “I suppose he won’t give -trouble?” - -“Bless you, no, sir!” declared the attendant. “He’ll be as quiet as a -lamb. Come on, Admiral!” he continued, addressing the subject of his -search. “There’s a rehearsal this afternoon, and what will happen if the -first violin isn’t there?” - -So saying, he removed the madman’s bonds and helped him to his feet. The -unfortunate man stepped into the waiting boat as quietly as any ordinary -individual. - -“How about this?” enquired the Scoutmaster, pointing to the sailing -boat. - -“I’ll be along to take charge of her, sir,” said the boatman. “You won’t -be getting under way afore the flood tide, I’ll allow?” - -With the departure of the attendants and their charge, Mr. Pendennis -prepared to return to his own craft. - -“We won’t be starting before two o’clock, I suppose,” he remarked. -“We’ll carry our tide right through to Chichester. Ought to get there by -eight with the breeze. By the way, how’s that hand of yours, Grant? -Oughtn’t you to see a doctor and get it lanced?” - -“No need,” replied Mr. Grant. “The poison’s out and the wound is healing -nicely. It will be all right in a day or so. Now, lads! Who’s for the -shore?” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - The Convict - - -If, on leaving Lymington River, the _Kestrel_ hadn’t run on the mud; if -the tide had not changed and the wind fallen light; and if the _Merlin_ -had not run out of petrol: then the Sea Scouts might have found -themselves at the rendezvous for the Jamboree at eight o’clock that -evening. - -It was a combination of adverse circumstances. Running the _Kestrel_ -aground was excusable but hardly avoidable. Many a yachtsman with local -knowledge has done much the same, for the beacons, instead of marking -the edge of the channel, are some distance away from it and well up on -the mud. The _Kestrel_ “took the putty” badly and, in spite of the -_Merlin’s_ efforts to tow her off, she remained there for nearly two -hours. - -The change of the direction of the tidal stream and the dropping of the -wind, which finally backed to due east, were conditions for which the -Sea Scouts could not be held responsible; but the same could not be said -in excuse for the _Merlin_ running out of petrol. - -As a matter of fact, the Sea Scout in charge of the motor had examined -the gauge of the petrol tank, which registered eight gallons. -Unfortunately the indicator had stuck, and the actual amount when the -_Merlin_ went to her consort’s assistance was only one gallon. It was -now _nil_. - -This discovery was made when the two yachts were abreast of Egypt Point -and within a mile or so of Cowes Harbour. In vain they attempted to beat -up for that anchorage. Gripped by the steadily increasing foul tide they -were rapidly swept down the Solent until, realising that any further -efforts would only result in their being carried more to the west’ard, -they dropped anchor off Newtown River. - -“There’s a hamlet called Newtown and another place called Shalfleet,” -observed Mr. Pendennis, after consulting the chart. “We may be able to -get petrol at one of them. Are any of your fellows coming ashore with -us?” - -“We may as well go if we leave a couple of hands to look after the -yachts,” replied Mr. Grant. “The glass is steady and the tide won’t -change for another five hours. It’s good holding ground, and there’s no -fear of either craft dragging her anchor. Right-o! Who’ll volunteer to -remain?” - -Craddock and Heavitree offered to act as ship-keepers. Two Cornish Sea -Scouts also elected to stay on board the _Merlin_. The others manned the -two dinghies and prepared to make for the mouth of the river. - -“How about Molly?” asked Brandon. “Shall we take her?” - -The pup showed such a disinclination to go in the boat that she was left -behind. Usually she was quite excited at the sight of the dinghy being -manned, and was one of the first to scramble over the gunwale. But that -was only when Craddock was to form one of the party. She was fond of -everyone on board, even Eric Little; but she was devoted to Peter. Where -he went she would go, but if he remained on board it required forcible -abduction to get the pup into the boat. - -Left to themselves, Craddock and Heavitree had quite an enjoyable -afternoon. They fished, exchanged semaphore and Morse messages with the -_Merlin’s_ ship-keepers, wrote letters, and watched passing shipping. - -Six o’clock came, but there were no signs of the two dinghies. The Sea -Scouts had tea, washed up and stowed away the things, and came on deck -again. Still the absent members of the two crews failed to put in an -appearance. - -“What’s happened to the others?” asked Peter, hailing the _Merlin_. - -“Perhaps they can’t find a garage or a place where they sell petrol,” -replied one of the Falmouth lads. “I’ve been aloft to look, but there’s -only a small part of the harbour to be seen. It runs away behind that -hill to the right of the entrance.” - -“More likely they are high and dry on the mud,” added Heavitree. “Ah, -well! We aren’t lonely, and we aren’t idle. I’ve caught enough fish for -supper for all hands.” - -“If they are aground they can hardly be blamed for that,” continued the -Cornish Sea Scout. “These tides are fair puzzlers. Down our way we’re -satisfied with two tides a day; here people get four.” - -Craddock agreed. It was his first experience of the coast between Cowes -and Weymouth, where a second high water follows the first at anything -from two to four hours later. He had also been used to a rise and fall -of about eighteen feet. Here the range of tide seemed to be about six -feet. - -At sunset the main ebb was almost done. The _Kestrel_, anchored nearer -in shore than the _Merlin_, was within fifty yards of the now exposed -gravel banks. Taking soundings, Peter found that the depth was a fathom -and a half. - -“So we won’t ground at low tide,” he remarked to his chum. “There’s -nothing to worry about. Let’s go below and make ourselves snug. It’s -pretty nippy this evening.” - -Having lighted the riding-lamp and hoisted it on the forestay the two -lads retired to the saloon. Soon they were making a literary feast, -devouring the pages of their favourite weekly paper. Breathlessly they -followed the fearfully exciting adventures. The flight of time passed -unheeded. They had almost forgotten their immediate surroundings in -visualising a stalwart sergeant riding hot-foot across the boundless -prairie in close pursuit of a much-wanted desperado. - -Suddenly, Molly gave a low growl. - -“Quiet, little girl!” exclaimed Peter. - -But the pup refused to keep still. Clambering up the three broad steps -leading from the saloon to the cockpit, she changed her growl to a -succession of shrill barks of defiance. - -“What’s up, I wonder?” remarked Heavitree, coming back to earth, or -rather to his floating home. “Are the others returning?” - -“Don’t think so,” replied Peter, preparing to go on deck. “Molly’s -welcome is very different from that.” - -On gaining the cockpit Craddock stared in bewilderment. It was some -moments before he grew accustomed to the change from the well lighted -cabin to the faint moonlight. When he did he was all the more puzzled, -for, instead of land showing a few hundred yards to starboard, there was -nothing but an expanse of sea dotted with the flashing light of numerous -buoys. Then he looked to port. There was the land—the low-lying ground -to the east of the entrance of Newtown River. He had completely ignored -the fact that the _Kestrel_ had swung to the young flood tide. - -“What is it, Molly?” he asked. - -The pup, crouching with her forepaws planted against the low rail, was -barking furiously at a dark object floating in the water at less than -ten yards from the yacht’s bows. In the faint moonlight Craddock saw -that it was a basket drifting bottom upwards. - -“That’s nothing, pup,” declared the lad. “Haven’t you seen a drifting -basket before?” - -But Molly would not be silenced. She seemed to be fascinated by the -derelict wickerwork. - -Then Craddock began to be interested, too. And for a very good reason: -the basket was not drifting with the tide. It was moving decidedly -against it and slowly yet surely approaching the _Kestrel’s_ bows. - -“Come on deck, old man,” said Peter to his chum, in a low voice; but -Heavitree, who had resumed his absorbing pastime, either did not hear or -did not want to. - -Presently the basket disappeared from Peter’s range of vision. From -where he was standing in the cockpit he could not see the surface of the -water in the vicinity of the yacht’s bows. He heard the rasping of the -wickerwork against the _Kestrel’s_ side, and once more the basket -appeared in view, bobbing astern and now drifting naturally with the -tide. - -Molly’s bark grew louder and shriller. She had lost all interest in the -basket and was directing her attention to something under the bows. - -Before Craddock could go for’ard to investigate, the dripping head and -shoulders of a man appeared above the rail. Then, obtaining a foothold -on the bobstay, the intruder swung himself on the fore-deck, stood up, -and steadied himself by means of the forestay. - -“Get that there dawg of yourn out of it afore I ’as to ’urt it,” he -growled. - -In the semi-darkness the stranger seemed to tower to a great height. -Actually he was well over six feet, though narrow across the chest. He -was clean-shaven, and wore an overcoat that was many inches too short -for him. He was bare-legged, and it looked as if he were wearing shorts. -Water drained steadily from his meagre and saturated garments. - -“Come here, Molly!” exclaimed Peter, fearful lest the intruder should -carry out the alternative he had mentioned. - -The pup still refused. - -The man, stooping suddenly, grasped the animal by the scruff of the neck -and stepped aft as far as the mainmast. - -“Ketch!” he said laconically. “Don’t want to ’urt no dawg, I don’t.” - -With that he tossed the pup into Craddock’s hands, throwing her so -gently that, beyond being frightened, no harm was done to her. - -“Naw,” continued the intruder, “me an’ you are goin’ for a nice little -cruise-like. ’Tain’t no use kickin’. I’ve been a-watchin’ yer, an’ I -knows there’s only two of you. Ask for no trouble an’ you’ll get none. -Got me?” - -Just then Heavitree, hearing voices, was about to come on deck. To him -Peter handed the pup. - -“Lock her up and get back here as soon as you can,” he whispered. - -Then he addressed the intruder. Already he had no doubt as to the -fellow’s identity. The ill-fitting overcoat failed to conceal a rough -suit of grey cloth liberally bedecked with broad arrows. Obviously this -was the convict under sentence for robbery with violence, and in all -probability he would not hesitate to take desperate measures to prolong -his spell of liberty. Yet, Peter recalled, he had been gentle with a -dumb animal even though Molly had attempted to snap at his gnarled -fingers. - -“What do you want?” demanded the Sea Scout. “It’s no use coming here.” - -“Isn’t it, my young pal?” replied the convict. “That’s for me to say. -Now look ’ere: all I want is a bite o’ food an’ summat to drink. Then -I’ll trouble you to ’and over any clothes belongin’ to that tall bloke I -seed go ashore this arternoon. Then you’ll put me across t’other side -an’ you’ll get my best thanks. If you don’t——’Ere, you, get down out -of it. You won’t be wanted this trip.” - - - - -[Illustration: An Unwelcome Visitor - The convict hesitated. He did not like the look of the business end of - the boat-hook, nor did he relish the probability of a crack across the - head from the serviceable lump of iron which Heavitree gripped in - readiness.] - -The latter remarks were addressed to Heavitree, who having placed Molly -out of harm’s way had come out of the saloon to “join in the argument,” -as he expressed it. Far from complying with the convict’s demands he -went to stand beside Craddock and unobtrusively unshipped a heavy -belaying-pin. “Get out of it!” repeated the convict. Heavitree raising -his arm resolutely remained where he was. Craddock gave one glance in -the direction of the _Merlin_. No one was to be seen on her deck. More -than likely her two ship-keepers were amusing themselves below. In any -case, there was not much likelihood of help in that direction. The two -Sea Scouts on the Cornish yacht were without a dinghy, and being further -out in the tideway, they would run a serious risk of being carried away -if they attempted to swim to the aid of their brother-Scouts on the -_Kestrel_. If Peter and Heavitree were to “win through,” they would -evidently have to do so on their own merits. - -Realising this, Craddock picked up the boat-hook which was lying on the -waterways by the side of the cockpit coaming. It was a formidable -weapon, consisting of about eight feet of stout ash pole terminating in -a combined point and hook of galvanised iron. - -Armed resistance was one of the last things the miscreant had counted -upon. He had staked his chances upon the likelihood of being able to -overawe a couple of lads, but he had failed to estimate correctly the -physical and moral fibre of the average Sea Scout. As a general rule, -the burglar who employs brute force when dealing with a weak and -terrified householder is an arrant coward, easily terrified when -threatened with corporal punishment. When he finds that “the game is -up,” he will refrain from violence because he knows that on conviction -his sentence will be far heavier than if he had contented himself solely -with ordinary house-breaking. On the other hand, if he thinks he can get -clear he will not hesitate to stun or wound the person who attempts his -capture. - -The convict hesitated. He did not like the look of the business end of -the boat-hook, the staff of which was held in a pair of firm, steady -hands. Nor did he relish the probability of a crack across the head from -the serviceable lump of iron which Heavitree gripped in readiness. - -“Be reasonable, chums!” he whined. “’Ere’s a pore bloke wrongfully -convicted who’s got a chance to get clear. Be sports an’ give him a -’elping ’and.” - -“We will,” agreed Peter grimly. “We’ll give the police a helping hand, -so you’d better surrender and give no further trouble.” - -“S’pose I’d better,” rejoined the convict sullenly. “I sees myself back -in quod, ’cause ’ere come your pals in their boat.” - -Instinctively the two Sea Scouts turned their heads to follow the -direction of the crafty rogue’s glance. It was exactly what the convict -hoped they would do. - -In a trice he leapt across the cabin-top. Before Peter could recover his -guard the fellow was within the wavering point of the boat-hook. The -next instant he grasped Heavitree’s right wrist, rendering the -belaying-pin useless as a weapon either of defence or offence. - -But there was one thing he forgot. Accustomed to having a dry and -comparatively unyielding solid ground, he was quite unused to the motion -of a vessel. Even a forty-foot yacht responds perceptibly to the weight -of a person moving on deck. In his wild onslaught he lost his balance. -His bare feet slipped on the wet painted canvas of the cabin-top. He -fell heavily, bringing Heavitree down with him. - -In vain Heavitree tried to get in his terrible upper cut to the point. -The convict’s face seemed as if it were made of metal. He gave a grunt -as the Sea Scout’s fist jolted his chin, then with a quick movement his -fingers closed upon the lad’s throat. - -For a moment Craddock was unable to distinguish friend from foe in the -deep shadows of the cockpit. Then he heard his chum’s choking cry as he -gasped for breath. Snatching another belaying-pin from the rack, Peter -brought the iron bar down with considerable force upon the back of the -convict’s closely cropped head. - -The man seemed to crumple up. He subsided inertly across the body of the -Sea Scout he had tried to choke into insensibility. - -Extricating Heavitree from his decidedly unpleasant situation, Peter set -his chum down upon one of the seats in the cockpit. For several minutes, -Heavitree could do nothing but gasp, swallowing mouthfuls of the pure -ozone-laden air, until his companion grew alarmed. - -“It’s all right, I think,” spluttered Heavitree. “I don’t think I’m hurt -much, but I feel like a jelly. What’s happened to the chap? You haven’t -killed him?” - -“Hardly,” replied Peter. “His skull is too thick for that. I gave him a -tap to quiet him. Hello! more of them?” - -A pair of hands appeared over the side of the yacht, followed by a head. -It was one of the crew of the _Merlin_. Alarmed by the commotion on -board the _Kestrel_, he had boldly dived overboard and swum to the aid -of his brother-Scouts. It was a risky thing to do, and by the time he -had battled against the strong flood tide he was nearly exhausted. Peter -assisted the lad on board and explained matters. - -“My word!” exclaimed the Cornish lad. “This is some trip! We can’t say -the voyage has been dull, can we? Cheerful looking fellow, isn’t he? -Hadn’t we better secure him before he comes round?” - -“He looks as if he is about to recover consciousness,” said Peter. - -“In that case we’ll get busy,” rejoined the _Merlin’s_ representative. -“There’s no need to lash him up. Let me show you how we do things down -our way.” - -So saying, the Cornish Sea Scout picked up the mop which was lying on -deck. - -“Got another stick like this?” he asked. - -Craddock produced a spare handle from one of the lockers. - -“Capital!” exclaimed the other approvingly, and set to work to secure -the still insensible man. This he did by inserting one handle in one leg -of the convict’s shorts and passing lashings round both the knee and the -ankle. The other leg was dealt with similarly, with the result that one -end of each mop handle projected about six inches beyond the man’s feet, -while, since he would be unable to bend his lower limbs, he would be -unable to rise. - -“We’ll secure his wrists later,” remarked the Cornish lad. “We must give -the fellow a chance to recover.” - -“Hello!” exclaimed Heavitree. “Oars!” - -The others listened intently. Above the gentle sighing of the wind in -the yacht’s rigging came the sound of the regular beats of oars. The -long-absent Sea Scouts with their respective Scoutmasters were -returning. - -“Got any grub ready, Peter?” shouted Brandon, when within hailing -distance. “We’re famishing.” - -“Sorry, old son,” replied Craddock, “but we’ve been too busy -entertaining. Matter of fact, sir,” he continued, addressing Mr. Grant, -“we’ve a convict on board. What shall we do with him?” - - - - - CHAPTER XX - The Last Lap - - -“We don’t want him,” declared Mr. Grant. “Why didn’t you signal to the -shore? The place is stiff with warders and other people searching for -him. Well, what happened?” - -While Craddock was relating the somewhat alarming incident Brandon got -busy with his electric torch. It was not long before his “general call” -was acknowledged, and a message to the effect that the convict had been -recaptured and was on board was flashed for the information of the -search party. - -Back came the reply: “Thanks. Will send boat to fetch him at once.” - -“And what happened to you chaps?” asked Heavitree. - -“We got stuck in the mud—properly,” admitted Brandon ruefully. “I never -saw such a place for mud. We tried to land at one place and couldn’t. -Then we went on and found an old wharf. Talbot remained as boat-keeper -for both dinghies while the rest of us tramped into Shalfleet. By the -time we had looked round and Mr. Pendennis had bought the petrol we -found both boats high and dry. Talbot did his best to keep them afloat, -but it was of no use. In fact, he stuck twenty yards from shore, and the -mud was so soft that he couldn’t get back. He’s been sitting in the -dinghy for hours. We had had some grub, and now we’re frightfully -hungry. Talbot hasn’t had anything to eat since we pushed off from the -_Kestrel_.” - -Already the stove was lighted and preparations under way for a belated -meal. Presently, following a hail of “Yacht ahoy!” a large rowing boat -with two boatmen and four armed warders came alongside. - -The convict, who was now conscious, was transhipped. The head warder -asked for particulars. - -“Smart bit of work,” he declared admiringly, when Craddock had told his -plain, unvarnished tale. “He’s a desperate character with a black -record. Well, young man, you’ve jolly well earned the reward offered for -his apprehension.” - -Peter shook his head. - -“We don’t want it, do we, Heavitree?” he replied. “It’s too much like -blood-money.” - -“Nonsense,” declared the warder. “You’re entitled to it. You’ve rendered -a public service.” - -“S’pose that’s one way of looking at it,” admitted the lad. “All the -same, I don’t like the idea of touching the money. As a matter of fact, -Molly earned it as much as we did. Couldn’t we give the reward to that -Society for—you know what I mean, sir?” - -“‘Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.’ Yes, that’s rather -a good wheeze, Peter,” agreed the Scoutmaster. “Well, now, it’s quite -about time this party broke up.” - -Taking the hint, the warders removed their prisoner, who accepted the -situation philosophically, especially as Craddock and Heavitree had made -no mention to the authorities of the fact that he had used violence. - -“He didn’t hurt our pup, so we simply felt we had to let him down -lightly,” explained Peter. - -Very soon the crew of the _Kestrel_ were deep in slumber. They did not -turn out till late in the forenoon for two reasons. They wanted to -arrive at Chichester Harbour “as fresh as paint”; it was practically -useless to attempt to set sail until the west-going tide eased -considerably. By this time the Aberstour Sea Scouts had learnt to -respect the fierce tides of the Solent. - -When the lads did turn out, Brandon went on deck to haul down the -riding-light. Then, to his surprise, he discovered that the _Merlin_ was -nowhere to be seen. - -“She’s stolen a march on us on the last lap,” declared Heavitree when -the Patrol Leader announced the astonishing news. - -“Well, she hasn’t got far,” added Carline. “Unless, of course, she’s -made use of her motor.” - -“We would have heard it,” remarked Craddock. “Her exhaust is a very -noisy affair.” - -“Perhaps they thought that we gave them the slip at Falmouth,” suggested -Talbot. “One or two of the fellows looked a bit doubtful, as if we were -pulling their legs, when we explained how it happened. So they’re taking -a rise out of us.” - -“Stop arguing!” exclaimed Brandon. “Don’t go hanging on to the slack, -but get your breakfasts. The sooner we get under way the better.” - -By the time the meal had been dispatched and everything below made -ship-shape the tide had slackened. There was a light southerly breeze -which would enable the _Kestrel_ to romp full and bye up the Solent, -and, unless the wind changed in direction, would take her to Chichester -Bar without having to tack. It was now nine o’clock. High water at -Spithead would occur at four, and if the _Kestrel_ were to make the -rendezvous that day, she must arrive off the bar not later than five. - -All plain sail was set, the anchor was weighed, and then main and mizzen -topsails were sent aloft. Finally, the spinnaker was set with the tack -at the bowsprit-end. In fact, every stitch of canvas that could be set -was brought into use. - -It was a delightful sail. On the starboard hand the crew could enjoy a -close view of the well-wooded Isle of Wight, while to port they could -discern an expanse of the New Forest and the entrance to Southampton -Water. - -Through Cowes Roads the _Kestrel_ tore with wind and tide. Here they saw -for the first time the Mecca of the yachting world with its swarm of -pleasure craft of all sizes and types either anchored or under way. -Sailing yachts, motor craft, pleasure steamers thronged the Roads; while -further out liners, tramps, and warships added to this picture of -merchant activity. There were aeroplanes and flying boats manœuvring, -the latter “taking off” from the surface of the water with surprising -ease. - -Just abreast of the Old Castle Point buoy, Brandon called attention to a -couple of cutters, both of which flew the burgee with the _fleur de -lys_. They were on a converging course to that of the _Kestrel_, and in -all probability they would soon come within hailing distance. - -But Brandon did not wait for that. Producing a pair of hand flags, he -proceeded to semaphore the approaching craft. - -“They are Sea Scouts making for the Jamboree, sir,” he announced. “One -is from Poole, the other from Weymouth. I’ll ask them if they’ve seen -the _Merlin_ pass, since they brought up in Cowes Harbour last night.” - -The reply was in the negative; but, the Poole cutter’s signaller added, -a large motor yacht passed making for the east’ard with two Sea Scouts’ -galleys in tow. - -“It looks as if we’re going to be a merry party,” observed Symington. -“All roads lead to Chichester Harbour. . . . What’s that place, sir?” - -He pointed to a large building flanked by two towers and standing on a -hill covered with grass of a remarkably vivid hue. - -“That’s Osborne House,” replied the Scoutmaster. “It used to be a royal -residence. Queen Victoria died there. See that long pier ahead, Talbot? -That’s Ryde Pier. Steer to pass about a quarter of a mile from its head. -We’re moving, by Jove! At this rate we’ll soon make Chichester Harbour.” - -The three yachts were now almost in line, the _Kestrel_ being to -wind’ard. They were keeping practically level. If anything, the -_Kestrel_ was gaining slightly. - -“We’re showing them a clean pair of heels, sir!” remarked Talbot, with -no uncertain display of satisfaction. - -“Yes, because this wind suits us,” replied Mr. Grant. “If it headed us, -and we had to beat to wind’ard, they’d whack us hollow. A ketch is no -match for a cutter at that game, so I wouldn’t chip those fellows if I -were you. They might have the laugh of us before very long.” - -“There’s a rowing boat with a Scout flag over there, sir,” reported -Craddock. - -Mr. Grant levelled his glasses. A double-sculler manned by three lads in -Sea Scouts’ rig was coming out of Wootton Creek. She had just drawn -clear of the outer beacon and was pointing towards Ryde. - -“Surely those chaps aren’t going to the Jamboree,” remarked Peter. “Not -in that cockleshell.” - -“They’ve a lot of gear in the boat,” declared Mr. Grant. “I shouldn’t be -at all surprised if they are making for Chichester Harbour.” - -“It’s a long way to row,” added Brandon tentatively. - -“Down helm a bit,” ordered Mr. Grant. “We’ll see if they are bound -there. If so, we’ll offer them a tow.” - -Rapidly the _Kestrel_ overhauled the boat. The crew of the latter -continued to pull steadily. - -“Where are you bound?” hailed the Patrol Leader, as the ketch drew near. - -“Chichester.” - -“Want a tow?” - -“Yes, rather.” - -The oarsmen boated their oars, the bowman coiling up the painter ready -to make a cast. - -Brandon was too experienced to attempt to pick up the boat with the -_Kestrel_ going at such a speed. Making a wide sweep, he brought the -ketch head to wind within an oar’s length of the frail double-sculler. - -“Hadn’t we better get them all on board, sir?” enquired the Patrol -Leader. “The skiff will tow lighter and easier if we do.” - -In double quick time the three Sea Scouts boarded the _Kestrel_. Their -boat, with a double painter rove as a matter of precaution, was dropped -astern of the _Kestrel’s_ dinghy and the ketch was again put on her -former course. By this time the Weymouth and Pool cutters had drawn -ahead to a distance of nearly a quarter of a mile; but, sportsman-like, -they had backed their head-sails to enable the _Kestrel_ to recover her -lead. - -“You fellows looked like having a long pull,” remarked Craddock to the -three youths whose jerseys bore the inscription, “Third Wootton Bridge -Sea Scouts.” “Bit risky, isn’t it?” - -“We weren’t going to be out of it,” explained the Second. “Our Troop -left yesterday in the _Pixie_. We couldn’t get away. I work at a garage. -Jim, here, is at a baker’s; and Tim has a job at the yacht-yard. At the -last lap, so to speak, we got the time off, and Tim’s boss lent us this -double-sculler.” - -“You might have found yourselves in difficulties off Chichester Bar,” -observed Mr. Grant. “There’s often a nasty sea running there, I -believe.” - -“Yes, sir,” admitted the Second. “But we weren’t going to risk that in -that sort of boat. We were going to row as far as Ryde, where the -skipper of a motor tug promised to tow us across to Portsmouth.” - -“I don’t see how that would help you very much,” commented the -Scoutmaster. “You would still have to get into Chichester Harbour.” - -“Inland water all the way, sir,” declared the lad. “There’s a channel -between Portsmouth and Langston Harbour, and another between Langston -and Chichester. It’s all right for small boats, but you couldn’t do it -because of the bridges, unless you unship your masts.” - -Past a couple of “scrapped” monitors, the unwieldy appearance and huge -guns of which afforded considerable interest to the _Kestrel’s_ crew, -the ketch tore through the water. Off Ryde they sighted two other -craft—a yawl and a converted lifeboat—both of which bore the -distinguishing flag of the Sea Scout brotherhood. - -“Now, where do we make for, sir?” asked Brandon. - -“Steer for that fort,” replied Mr. Grant, indicating a circular -structure painted in black and yellow squares and rising sheer out of -the sea. - -“Is that a fort?” enquired Talbot. “It looks more like a gigantic -cheese. Why, there are two more!” - -“Yes, and we have to pass between the pair,” continued the Scoutmaster. -“See that low-lying belt of trees? That’s Hayling. The entrance to -Chichester Harbour is just beyond.” - -Presently half a dozen sailing craft were noticed on the port quarter. -These comprised the Portsmouth and Gosport contingent of Sea Scouts, -while astern a couple of motor launches each towing two whalers -announced their identity as part of Southampton’s representation at the -forthcoming Jamboree. - -By this time there were nearly twenty yachts and boats within a radius -of half a mile all making for a common point—the entrance to Chichester -Harbour. Many Sea Scout craft had already arrived. Others were on the -way, not only from the West, but from the East Coast. Provided the -weather held, the success of the Jamboree seemed assured. - -“Well, thank goodness we’re not leading the procession,” exclaimed Mr. -Grant. “I’ll gladly allow someone else to show us the way in. From all -accounts it’s a very tricky and badly marked entrance, so we must be -thankful we haven’t to grope and scrape over the Bar.” - -“I can’t see any entrance,” said Craddock. - -Viewed from seaward the coast-line appeared to consist of an unbroken -line of low-lying, sandy shore with a few houses and trees, extending -eastward as far as the eye could reach until only the tree-tops showed -above the horizon in the neighbourhood of Selsea Bill. Ahead, as the -_Kestrel_ was now pounding, were masses of white foam as the rollers -broke on the flat shoals of the dangerous Winners. Yet the leading craft -held unswervingly on their course, as if they meant to hurl themselves -to destruction upon those formidable surf-swept sandbanks. - -Presently a small white motor boat was sighted ahead and quite a mile -from the beach. She, too, displayed the Scout burgee, and as each -approaching craft drew level with her a uniformed official shouted -directions to the newcomers. - -“What yacht is that?” demanded the Commissioner as the _Kestrel_ drew -near. “Where are you from? Good. What’s your draught? Four feet; then -you’ve plenty of water. Keep close to the west shore inside the entrance -until you sight a buoy on your starboard hand. Then port helm and carry -on up the boomed channel.” - -“Ay, ay, sir!” replied Mr. Grant, and the motor boat forged ahead to -interview the next arrival and to tell her to heave-to until the tide -made sufficiently for her draught to cross the bar. - -“What a topping place!” exclaimed Craddock enthusiastically. - -His appreciation was justifiable; for, although the approach to -Chichester Harbour presents a dreary aspect, the view when once within -its shelter is superb; while the spacious land-locked expanse with its -three principal arms afforded miles of safe yet entrancing sailing. - -After following a well-marked channel for about three miles and making a -gentle bend to starboard, the leading craft began to reduce canvas. - -The _Kestrel_ followed suit; then a regular forest of masts appeared to -occupy the whole width of the waterway, while ashore a small village of -tents accommodated those Sea Scouts whom circumstances had prevented -from living and sleeping afloat. Conspicuous amongst the floating -community was a large yacht flying the characteristic burgee of the -Chief Sea Scout, and displaying the International Code Signal: -KY—“Anchor as convenient.” - -Five minutes later, the _Kestrel_ brought up on the fringe of the fleet -and well sheltered by the curving arms of a sandy bay. Eighty yards or -so away was a little pier fronting the lines of tents and affording -means of landing at any state of the tide. Canvas was then stowed and -ropes coiled away. Then for the first time the crew of the _Kestrel_ -were at leisure to take in the animated scene. - -Suddenly Heavitree turned and smacked Craddock on the shoulder. - -“Peter, old son!” he exclaimed joyously, “aren’t you thunderingly glad -you’re a Sea Scout?” - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - The Eve of the Jamboree - - -“I can’t see any sign of the _Merlin_,” declared Brandon, after scanning -the numerous craft at anchor. Already, during the last half-hour new -arrivals had taken up their berths, so that the _Kestrel_ was by no -means on the fringe of the fleet. - -“That’s strange,” rejoined Peter. “I wonder where she is?” - -“I’ll make enquiries,” said Mr. Grant, overhearing the conversation. “I -must go aboard the Chief Sea Scout’s yacht to report our arrival and -will find out whether the _Merlin_ has arrived. Bring the dinghy -alongside, please, Brandon.” - -The three Wootton Sea Scouts had taken their departure and were -alongside their parent craft when their arrival was greeted with -acclamation by their chums. - -Spic-and-span in their best jerseys, Brandon and Craddock manned the -dinghy and rowed their Scoutmaster to the flagship, which was surrounded -by a swarm of small boats and invaded by dozens of Scoutmasters -attending a conference on the programme for the next ten days. - -Having put Mr. Grant on board, Brandon and his chum “laid off,” keeping -their dinghy clear of the yacht’s accommodation ladder. Then they got -busy, “easing their jaw tackle,” to use a nautical expression, for the -crews of the various dinghies were holding an informal jamboree on their -own account and exchanging reminiscences. - -There could be little doubt that the great gathering of Sea Scouts would -turn out to be a huge success. Not only were the neighbouring Troops -well represented; some came from Great Yarmouth, Lowestoft, Grimsby, and -Hull, and even from far-off Aberdeen. From the West Coast, the Clyde was -well represented, as well as Troops from the Mersey, Pembroke, Swansea, -Cardiff, and Bristol. All these Troops were fortunate in possessing -fairly large and seaworthy craft, many of them “drifters” with auxiliary -motors. - -Other Sea Scouts living in inland districts—it may sound strange to -have to relate, but most efficient Troops have been formed at places on -various rivers—had not been deterred from appearing at the Jamboree. -Some of them—those from Nottingham, for example—had made the voyage by -canal as far as Godalming, completing the journey by having their -whalers placed on rail. Others, unable to make use of the inland -waterways, had come the whole way by rail; while one enterprising Troop -from Worcester had demonstrated how grit and ingenuity could surmount -almost any obstacle. - -Their craft was a 27-foot ex-naval whaler and was too long to be -accommodated on an ordinary railway goods truck. Besides, they were not -well off and could ill afford the expense. But they were determined to -be present at the Jamboree, and they were. They had constructed a -special carriage mounted on a pair of heavy motor-lorry wheels. This -they attached to the Scoutmaster’s car, placing the whaler on the -“cradle.” Some of the crew travelled in the boat; others by cycle, since -the lumbering vehicle could not go more than eight or ten miles an hour. -At night they slept in the boat, which was covered with a waterproof -awning. - -Others, possessing smaller boats, had trekked to the rendezvous; while -in many cases Troops had arrived without craft of any description and -were accommodated in tents. - -Not only was Great Britain well represented. There were contingents from -France, Belgium and Holland, and quite a strong Troop of hefty, -flaxen-haired, fair-complexioned Sea Scouts from Denmark, most of whom -spoke English and had already made the acquaintance of British Scouts at -the recent Copenhagen meeting. - -The organisation, too, was as perfect as human experience could devise. -One of the chief considerations, an ample supply of good drinking water, -was provided. There was an efficient transport service between the -landing-place and the city of Chichester, from whence provisions and -stores were obtained. Special precautions had been taken to provide a -safe bathing-place under strict supervision; while a proper postal -service had been instituted. - -This much and more Brandon and Craddock learnt from their new-found -chums, and apparently there was much forthcoming about which the lads -were as yet metaphorically “at sea.” - -In about half an hour, Mr. Grant appeared on deck and was rowed back to -the _Kestrel_. - -“The _Merlin_ hasn’t reported, lads,” he announced. “Perhaps she’s had -to put in somewhere. It’s no use expecting her this evening. There’s not -enough water on the Bar until to-morrow morning. Now, Eric, my lad, I -suppose the next thing to be done is to hand you over to your -relations.” - -“Surely, sir, there is no immediate hurry,” protested the stowaway. “If -you have no objection, perhaps I might be permitted to remain for part -of the impending entertainment? It occurred to me, sir, that I should -like very much to become a Sea Scout.” - -Mr. Grant turned to his crew. - -“What shall we say, lads?” he asked. - -There was a unanimous response in favour of Eric being allowed to stop -on board. In spite of his old-fashioned ways, the boy had made himself -well liked. - -“Very well, then,” agreed the Scoutmaster. “I’ll run into Chichester -to-morrow morning and see your uncle. But I’m afraid we can’t make you a -Sea Scout. You’re not old enough, Eric; but there’s no reason why you -shouldn’t become a Cub, and then when you are old enough you can become -a Scout. Now, lads, who’s for the shore? A good sharp tramp is the -thing. One of you must remain on board. Who’ll volunteer?” - -Talbot said he would. - -“Good man!” exclaimed Mr. Grant. “Keep a smart look-out for signals from -the Chief Sea Scout’s yacht. That’s about all, I think. By the by, we’ll -have to patch up the dinghy’s gunwale to-morrow. It looks a bit of a -wreck.” - -With the exception of the volunteer ship-keeper, all hands went ashore, -leaving the dinghy on the hard. Proceeding between the avenue of tents -where swarms of Sea Scouts were in various stages of “getting all -ship-shape,” they gained the open country—a flat but rather pleasing -bit of Sussex lying between the harbour and the open sea. - -“How firm the sand is!” exclaimed Carline when the lads gained the -seashore. “Look! There are fellows riding bicycles on it.” - -“And isn’t the tide out?” added Wilson. “When we came in there weren’t -any shoals showing.” - -“That’s why we had to choose high-water,” remarked Mr. Grant. “Those -shoals, although consisting of sand, are quite as dangerous as rocks. A -vessel might be pounded to bits in a few minutes if she chanced to get -ashore in heavy weather. There’s hardly any wind this evening—it’s -almost a flat calm—but you can see the rollers breaking on the exposed -edge of the shoals. This harbour happens to be the worst beaconed on the -south coast, and in some respects one of the most dangerous ones. If it -comes on to blow for any length of time, we might be kept here for a -month.” - -“How jolly that would be!” exclaimed Wilson. - -“I’m afraid you’d feel rather fed-up before the month had passed,” -observed the Scoutmaster. “Any place, however much it appeals to you at -first, becomes positively irksome if you’re kept there against your -inclinations. Well, there’s no sign of the _Merlin_ in the offing. It’s -a pity, because it looks as if she won’t be able to take part in the -opening sailing race to-morrow afternoon for the Silver Cup.” - -“Are we racing, sir?” asked Craddock eagerly. - -“Rather.” - -“Good egg, sir!” exclaimed Peter. - -“Time to be on our return journey,” observed Mr. Grant, consulting his -wristlet watch. “We must be on board before sunset.” - -His listeners wondered why. They soon found out; for on returning to the -_Kestrel_ they noticed the Sea Scouts on the various craft mustered on -deck. A bugle sounded. Everyone stood at the Alert, while a forest of -burgees and ensigns fluttered to their respective decks. Then in the -gathering gloom innumerable riding-lights were hoisted in position. - -It was the eve of the Jamboree. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - The Race for the Cup - - -Punctually at 1.45 on the following afternoon the eventful race for the -Silver Cup started. Nine yachts, each measuring thirty feet or more on -the water-line, were towed into position and anchored. There they swung -to the weak flood tide with canvas stowed just as if they had -“brought-up” for the rest of the day. - -On board the _Kestrel_, the third from the starboard end of the line, -four very serious Sea Scouts, with Mr. Grant in command, sat -breathlessly waiting for the starting gun. Although the conditions -governing the race were new to them—in the old _Puffin_ they had always -had a flying start following a five-minute gun—they realised they had a -fighting chance provided they did their very best and did not bungle; -for not until after the races were completed would the name of the -winning yacht be known. That was one of the surprises of racing under a -sealed handicap. - -“Fifty seconds!” announced Mr. Grant calmly. “Stand by! Fifty-five . . . -fifty-six . . . fifty-seven . . . fifty-eight . . . fifty-nine. . . .” - -“Bang!” - -Simultaneously with the flash of the starting gun the hitherto -practically motionless crews of the competing craft were figuratively -galvanised into activity. In as short a time as possible, the bare poles -would be hidden by the towering canvas, anchors would be weighed, and -the vessels would leap forward on the determined contest. - -On board the _Kestrel_, although her crew had had plenty of practice in -getting under way, they had not had to take into consideration the fact -that at a few yards’ distance on either side other crews were doing the -same thing. Besides, they were short-handed, five being the maximum -number allowed. The rest of the _Kestrel’s_ complement were ashore, -where, in common with several hundred Sea Scouts and other spectators, -they were yelling themselves hoarse with excitement. - -Brandon and Craddock, casting off the tyers, hauled away at main and -peak halliards. Heavitree and Carline ran for’ard to attach the foresail -to the forestay by means of the hanks, and to run the jib out on the -bowsprit ready to hoist. By the time the mainsail was set Heavitree, who -was chosen for this particular work by reason of his strength, broke out -the anchor and got it inboard. - -Simultaneously with the racing of the anchor, Mr. Grant put the helm -hard-a-starboard, Brandon tended the mainsheet, while the two hands -for’ard set both jib and staysail. - -As soon as the _Kestrel_ forged ahead, Peter and the Patrol Leader set -and trimmed the mizzen. This done, all hands went quietly to their -racing station and awaited orders. - -Now for the first time since the starting gun Peter was able to take -notice of what the other competing yachts were doing. Smart though the -_Kestrel’s_ crew had been in getting under way, there were two craft -which had executed the manœuvre in quicker time and already had -established a useful lead. One was a centre-board cutter from the -Humber, a wholesome looking craft; the other, also a cutter, belonging -to a Plymouth Troop. Slightly to lee’ard, and with her hands still -engaged in sheeting home their canvas, was a Poole ex-fishing boat -rather noted for her speed and weatherly qualities. A few yards astern -was a deep-draughted Bristol pilot cutter. Apparently she had trouble -with her peak-halliard blocks, and a couple of Sea Scouts were swarming -aloft to set things right. - -All these craft were close-hauled on the starboard tack. The rest of the -competitors, including two who had collided at the start, were heading -towards the Bosham side of the channel. - -So far so well. Peter had never known the _Kestrel_ to move so fast in -such a light wind. For one thing, she was no longer hampered by her -dinghy. That impediment was for the present unnecessary and had been -left ashore. - -But clean-heeled though the _Kestrel_ was, there were others who were -faster. Although Mr. Grant, by keeping her “full,” got the very best out -of the yacht, she could neither point so high nor travel as fast as two -of the cutters. - -On the fore-deck of the _Kestrel_, Heavitree lay motionless, keeping -well down to minimise wind-resistance. The rest of the crew stationed -aft were as silent and immobile as statues. They realised that the race -was not a game. It was something that required every effort of mind and -body on the part of each member of the crew. Even to move about -unnecessarily might mean the loss of the race, for even in a craft of -the size of the _Kestrel_ it would be adversely sensitive to the -alteration of “trim” should any of the crew begin “jumping about.” - -Now the leading yacht on the starboard tack was nearing the edge of the -deep-water channel. She drew more than the _Kestrel_, and the problem -that confronted Mr. Grant was whether to put the helm down at once, or, -taking advantage of the _Kestrel’s_ smaller draught, carry on and pass -astern and consequently to wind’ard of his antagonist. He had to make up -his mind quickly. He realised, too, that against the flood tide he might -find slack water, or even a counter-eddy close to the hidden mud-flat. - -He chose the latter alternative. - -“Stand by to go about!” he ordered; then “Lee-o!” - -Quickly yet deliberately Brandon let the head-sheets fly. Round came the -_Kestrel_ slowly yet surely, shooting ahead in the slack water and -actually overlapping the leading cutter. But the advantage was only -temporary, although it counted in the long run. Unable to point as high -as his rival, the _Kestrel’s_ speed diminished. The only possible course -was to up-helm slightly and to romp under the Humber yacht’s lee. - -Meanwhile the Plymouth vessel had gone about and was making short but -useful tacks; while the Bristol yacht, holding on too long, was aground -with her crew feverishly working in an attempt to get her off. - -Half-way across the Channel, the _Kestrel_, now on the port tack, met -the competing craft, which had made for the northern side of the -fairway. By the “rules of the road” she had to give way. Now came the -test of the helmsman’s skill and sound judgment. The slightest error -might result in disaster, for which the _Kestrel_ would be blamed. Even -the faintest contact between her and one of the yachts on the starboard -tack would disqualify her. In addition there were two boats abeam of her -and two more astern. No need to worry about the last two. They had to -avoid those ahead as well as those converging on the opposite tack. - -The _Kestrel_ passed the first of the starboard-tack boats at less than -a couple of yards to lee’ard. For a brief instant, as the lowering -canvas of the latter blanketed the wind, the _Kestrel_ recovered from -her heel; her sails shivered, the mainsheet sagged. Then at the next -moment she staggered as she felt the full force of the breeze, and, -luffing, shot magnificently across the bows of the next competitor. - -It was exhilarating work. Even in that land-locked harbour, the dead -beat to wind’ard with a weather-going tide sent the spindrift flying -over the bows. Yet the disconcerting fact was now apparent. The -_Kestrel_, owing to her rig and generous amount of deadwood fore and -aft, was hopelessly out of it against the performance of most of her -competitors in the thrash to wind’ard. She could only hold on gamely. -Even the Bristol boat was afloat once more and was tearing along in -grand style. Astern a Dover yacht was in difficulties with a torn jib; -while a Newhaven yawl and a Grimsby cutter, both under-canvassed, were -indulging in a ding-dong race on their own account. - -At twenty minutes from the start the two leading competitors were -rounding the mark buoy. The _Kestrel_ was still a good two hundred yards -from it. Four other boats, bunched together, were bearing down on the -port tack for the turning-point. - -As luck would have it the second boat’s bowsprit was almost level with -the leader’s counter as they prepared to go about at the mark buoy. This -is what is termed “establishing an overlap,” and the second craft has -the right to hail the other to give her more room. If, however, there is -no overlap the leading craft can carry on, leaving the other to get out -of her way and pass outside her. - -At this critical moment a collision occurred. The leading yacht, with -her mainsail ripped, fell away, leaving the second with her bowsprit -smashed off close to the stem-head and her jib trailing in the water. - -“Rough luck!” commented the sportsman-like Craddock. “They’re out of -it.” - -But Peter was wrong. The yacht with the damaged bowsprit was -automatically disqualified; but the other, in spite of the sorry -condition of her mainsail, bore away and continued to race. - -Presently it was the _Kestrel’s_ turn to round the mark buoy. She had it -all to herself, for the bunch of four were already on the homeward run, -while the remaining two competitors were well astern. - -“Stand by!” cautioned Mr. Grant. “Ready with the spinnaker!” - -Moving as softly as cats, Carline and Heavitree prepared the halliards -and out-haul of the spinnaker. Round swept the _Kestrel_, making the -mark buoy curtsey in her wash. Over flew the boom in a deliberate gybe. - -“Up spinnaker!” ordered the Scoutmaster. - -In double quick time the huge but light triangular sail was set and -sheeted home. Now the _Kestrel_ was at her best. Running was her strong -point. The foam frothed at her cut-water and trailed astern in an -ever-diverging double wake. In five minutes she had overtaken the partly -crippled Plymouth cutter, the crew of which, far from being dismayed, -had also set spinnaker. She was making a gallant fight against long -odds, and the _Kestrel’s_ crew broke a prolonged silence by giving the -West Country Sea Scouts a rousing cheer. - -A stern chase is proverbially a long one, but slowly yet surely the -_Kestrel_ was decreasing the distance between the now straggling -procession of leading boats. The task entailed ceaseless vigilance on -the part of the Scoutmaster. An accidental gybe at this state of the -proceedings would be disastrous. In all probability the _Kestrel’s_ -mainmast would be carried away, but in any case the mainsail would mask -the spinnaker and deprive it of its pulling power. - -At the last bend, which was so gentle that there was no necessity to -gybe and reset the spinnaker, the _Kestrel_ was fourth. A Poole boat, -staggering under a press of bellying sail, was leading. Following her -came the centre-keeled Humber cutter, the crew of which had set a large -square sail in addition to their working canvas. Next the Bristol boat, -which, having made good following her temporary grounding, had failed to -maintain her advantage while running. - -Less than a quarter of a mile ahead could be seen the anchored boat that -marked one end of the finishing line. The distance was too short to -enable the _Kestrel_ to overhaul the remaining three ahead. True, she -drew level with the Bristol cutter; but, impeded by the far-flung bow -wave of the latter, she was unable to continue her advantage. Yet the -pace was terrific. Peter found himself wondering what would happen when -the competing yacht crossed the line. There seemed no room to turn owing -to the crowd of anchored yachts and boats beyond. - -“Stand by!” cautioned Mr. Grant crisply. - -Bang! went the gun for the foremost yacht. Five seconds later another -report greeted the arrival of the second. Then, almost simultaneously, -the gun fired twice. - -“Down spinnaker!” - -No need for cautious movements now. Down came the clouds of light -canvas. The spinnaker boom was topped up in double quick time. Over went -the helm. Brandon and Craddock hauled away on the mainsheet. Heeling, -the _Kestrel_ turned into the wind, shot clear of the course, and -dropped anchor almost in her former berth. - -“It’s been a thundering good race,” declared Mr. Grant, moistening his -parched lips; for now that the ordeal was over his tongue felt -unpleasantly dry. “Signal to Talbot and the others and tell them to come -aboard. We’ll get tea. Hello! There’s the _Merlin_. When did she arrive, -I wonder?” - -The Falmouth Sea Scouts had brought up about a hundred yards from the -_Kestrel_, and several other craft lay at anchor between them. Without a -dinghy, Mr. Grant could not pay her a visit, although all on board the -_Kestrel_ were naturally curious to know what had happened to her. - -Presently Symington, Talbot and Wilson, and Eric Little, together with -the pup, came alongside. - -“I say, sir!” exclaimed Talbot eagerly. “Can we enter for the ex-service -boats’ rowing match? We’ve been talking to some Portsmouth Sea Scouts. -They say they’ll lend us a gig, if we like to have a shot.” - -“Certainly,” replied Mr. Grant, although he knew that his lads, -unaccustomed to pulling a heavy four-oared boat and a strange one at -that, stood a poor chance of securing a win. “Row ashore and accept the -offer, and then hurry back for tea. What time does the race start? Six? -Good!” - -Talbot had been gone only a few minutes when Craddock reported that the -flagship was making a general signal. - -“They’re about to announce the result of the race,” he added. “I’ve -hoisted our answering pennant, sir.” - -Already a number of red and white pennants hoisted “at the dip”—that -is, half-way up—indicated that the various craft concerned were ready -to receive the impending signal. - -“Code flag over M, sir,” reported Craddock. “They going to give the -winning numbers.” - -The first number—represented by the code letter G—indicated that No. 7 -was the winner of the cup. That showed that the coveted trophy had been -carried off by the Poole Sea Scouts, who had not only actually come in -first, but were first also on handicap. - -When the second number went up, Craddock gave a whoop of delight, while -the rest of the crew almost fell over themselves with excitement. - -The _Kestrel_ had won the second prize, but only by the narrow margin of -five seconds. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - A Dead Heat - - -The _Kestrel’s_ crew had only just finished their much-appreciated tea -when the _Merlin’s_ dinghy came alongside. - -“Hello, Pendennis!” exclaimed Mr. Grant, going on deck to receive his -visitor. “What happened to you?” - -“A slice of bad luck,” replied the Cornishman. “Our anchor tripped -during the night when we lay off Newtown. When we turned out we found -ourselves bumping on Warden Ledge. We must have drifted nearly seven -miles without knowing it. Then, in trying to get off, we strained one of -our propeller blades and had to put into Yarmouth to get it -straightened. After that we came on here.” - -“And when did you arrive?” - -“Early this morning,” replied Mr. Pendennis. “In fact, so early that you -lazy fellows were fast asleep. We felt tempted to give you a hail. -Heartiest congratulations, Grant, in getting second in that race.” - -“Thanks. Sorry you didn’t compete.” - -The Cornishman smiled. - -“My lads were a bit fagged out,” he replied. “We’ve stood some long -tricks this trip. ’Sides, they’re keen on the ex-Service boats’ pulling -race and are conserving their strength for that event.” - -“We’re entering, too, sir,” announced Talbot. - -“The more the merrier,” rejoined Mr. Pendennis. - -While the two Scoutmasters were chatting upon various subjects relating -to the Jamboree the rest of the _Kestrel’s_ crew went ashore to complete -their preparations. - -The Portsmouth Sea Scouts were as good as their word, for quite a -serviceable gig was hauled up on the hard for the _Kestrel_ lads’ use. -More than a dozen other ex-Service boats were also out of the water, -their respective crews busily engaged in making ready for the fray or, -rather, contest. - -“What’s that stuff you’re putting on?” enquired Craddock of a lad who -hailed from Pembroke. - -“Black lead, look you,” replied the young Welshman. “Want some? We have -plenty, look you.” - -Seeing that several of the competing boats were being treated in a -similar fashion, Peter accepted the generous offer and soon the bottom -of the borrowed gig was shining in a coat of black lead thinned down -with stale beer—a preparation which, although filthy to handle, is in -high favour amongst rowers of racing craft. - -As soon as the _Kestrel’s_ crew had applied the “dope,” the gig was -uprighted and a thorough examination made of her oars and stretchers. -Craddock, as coxswain of the boat, meant to leave little to chance, -although he was quite aware of the disadvantage of racing in a strange -craft without even the opportunity of having a preliminary practice. -But, he reflected sagely, there were other crews similarly handicapped. - -Just before six o’clock fourteen boats faced the starter. By this time -the ebb-tide was running strongly against a steady sou’westerly breeze, -with the result that farther down the main channel there was quite a sea -running. - -“Back there, No. 5!” shouted the somewhat harassed starter through a -megaphone. - -No. 5’s crew dropped their oars and obediently “toed the line.” They -were hefty, bronzed-featured lads from Margate. It was their first race, -and in consequence they were a bit excited. - -“Tough lot, aren’t they?” remarked Heavitree, stroke of the _Kestrel’s_ -gig, as he moistened the loom of his oar with salt water. - -“Eyes on the boat,” cautioned Peter. “Stand by!” - -The starting gun crashed. Fifty-six backs bent to the first stroke; -fifty-six oars dipped almost as one, and the fourteen competing boats -leapt forward, the coxswains shouting encouragement to their men. - -For the first hundred yards the line retained its comparative -straightness, but already some of the rowers were splashing -unnecessarily, and they lost their “first wind,” and hadn’t begun to -find their second. - -Then five of the boats shot ahead, amongst them the _Kestrel’s_ borrowed -gig. Her crew were working with a will and getting every ounce of power -out of their backs and legs. They had a style about them, and Peter, as -he watched their long, steady, and regular strokes, felt proud of his -chums. - -Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Craddock noticed that the -Nottingham Sea Scouts’ boat was level on her starboard beam. Her crew, -admirably trained, were rowing with the regularity of clockwork. -Instinctively, Peter felt that here was a rival to be treated with -respect. - -To port, No. 7—the Pembroke crowd—was forging ahead. The crew were -rowing a quicker stroke, but would they last? On the extreme left, No. -14, the Whitby boat, had already established a useful lead. Although -losing the advantage of the ebb-tide she was in smoother water close to -the bank, but at the first bend that advantage would be lost. - -Yet, Peter knew, there was little to be judged by position at this -stage. It was the stayer, not the spurter, who seemed most likely to -lead the procession over the finishing line. - -He looked at his crew. They were bearing up bravely. Talbot looked a -little flustered, but was still rowing strongly. None of them had -reached the gasping stage yet, although rivulets of perspiration -trickled unhindered down their faces. - -At the first bend the competitors met the full force of the wind ’gainst -tide. The lean bows of the boat threw apart showers of spray, as the -knife-like stem cleft the curling waves. - -It was here that the Nottingham lads found themselves handicapped. Used -to pulling in a river, they had never had the opportunity of rowing in a -fairly high seaway. Their style, admirable in smooth water, was at a -decided disadvantage in this “popple.” More than once “bow” missed his -stroke, his blade encountering nothing more resistant than air as the -boat rose on the crest of a short, steep wave. - -“We’re overhauling her all right,” thought Peter. - -Five lengths ahead the Portsmouth Sea Scouts were leading. Pulling -splendidly, they were steadily increasing their lead, when misfortune -descended upon them. “Stroke’s” oar broke just above the blade. The lad, -falling backwards, temporarily put No. 3 out of action. By the time the -latter had recovered and resumed his oar, the boat had dropped to the -seventh place. Nevertheless under extremely adverse conditions the lads -continued their gallant struggle, the oarless “stroke” sitting up and -moving with the rest to preserve the rhythm of the swing. - -The mark buoy at last! - -“Back, port! Pull, starboard!” ordered Peter. Round swung the gig, -rolling as she swung broadside to the weather-going tide. - -“Together!” - -Now came the strenuous part of the whole race—the last lap. The -_Kestrels_ were visibly tiring. Even Heavitree’s Adam’s apple was -working convulsively, while the veins in his bared arms stood out like -whipcord. Talbot, looking utterly blown, was pulling almost -mechanically, gasping through his wide open mouth in his efforts to fill -his painfully stifled lungs. - -There was but one boat ahead. That was the Pembroke one. The Welshmen -were in a far worse plight than Craddock’s crew. They had let themselves -go at the start, and were reaping the consequences; yet they, too, were -“sticking it” with the fervid tenacity of their race. - -For the present Peter dare not call upon his loyal crew for an extra -spurt. They were gaining all the time, yet without the final and -spectacular burst they would not be able to overlap their rivals. And, -of course, the Welshmen would almost certainly respond. - -Three hundred yards from home the _Kestrel’s_ gig’s bows were level with -the Pembroke boat’s stern. The coxswain of the latter could be heard -calling to his men for the final effort. It was now Peter’s chance, -provided his jaded crew could respond to it. - -“Whack her up, lads!” he shouted. “Last lap!” - -Both boats were now in calmer waters. Nobly the _Kestrels_ responded to -their coxswain’s call. Blinded with perspiration, with bursting lungs -and violently throbbing hearts, aching muscles and blistered palms, they -were unconscious of everything but the desire to make that extra spurt. - -Now they were dead level with the Welshmen. - -“Keep it up, lads!” yelled Peter. - -That was as much as they could do. To increase the number of strokes was -out of the question. They were perilously close to the breaking-point. -Could they stay the course? - -The _Kestrel’s_ gig drew ahead. The Pembroke coxswain in a shrill -falsetto called upon his men for a final effort. They tried. There was a -sharp crack. One of their stretchers had broken. - -“Hard lines on them,” thought Peter. “But we were winning, anyway.” - -Then for the first time on the homeward run Craddock glanced over his -shoulder. He had a shock. The nearest of the remaining competitors was -quite five lengths astern. Nothing short of a disaster to the -_Kestrel’s_ gig would give any of the boats astern a chance to overtake -her now, for the finishing line was less than eighty yards ahead. - -But—and that it was that gave Peter a most disconcerting jar—close to -the edge of the channel and out of the full force of the adverse tide -was the Nottingham boat. - -By dint of sheer doggedness she had fought her way through the choppy -sea. Then, edging over towards the mud-flats, she found herself under -conditions very similar to that of her native Trent. The Nottingham Sea -Scouts, admirably trained and in the pink of condition, were not slow to -take advantage of the change of fortune. They were now almost level with -Craddock’s crew, although separated by about fifty yards of water. - -“Pull, lads, pull!” shouted Peter. “For all you’re worth!” - -The spirit was willing, but exhausted flesh was unable to respond to the -dictates of the brain. Gallantly the crew bent their aching backs, -tugging ferociously at the tough ash oars. Then Talbot missed a stroke, -the badly trimmed blade slithering ineffectually on the surface. - -Before the lad could recover his stroke the gun went. - -“Way ’nough!” gulped Peter, and the thoroughly exhausted rowers -collapsed, sobbing in their efforts to recharge their bursting lungs. - -Completely bewildered, Peter looked in the direction of the Nottingham -boat. She was over the line, her crew paddling easily towards the -flagship. The _Kestrel’s_ gig was also across the line—but there had -been only one gun. What did it mean? - -Everyone in the anchored yachts seemed to be cheering. So were the crowd -on the beach. Then another competing boat crossed the line with her crew -on the verge of utter exhaustion. They received a gun. - -Still puzzled, Craddock was dimly aware of the _Kestrel’s_ dinghy coming -alongside and of Mr. Grant leaning over the gunwale and patting him on -the back. - -“Well rowed!” exclaimed the Scoutmaster. “Well rowed! Dead heat with the -_Avalon_. Let’s have your painter; we’ll tow you to the beach. Yes, by -Jove! you’ve tied with that crack Nottingham crew, and honestly I never -expected you to have a look-in. Well done!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - Snatched from the Deep - - -For three consecutive days the weather remained bright and with very -little wind. It was ideal conditions for almost every event except -sailing. The Sea Scouts held greasy pole competitions, swimming races, -diving contests, and a great water tournament. - -The latter event was great fun and turned out to be a huge success. -There were forty competitors a side, most of them in fancy dress. Each -member of the opposing teams was “mounted” on a barrel to which was -affixed a rough representation of a horse’s head, the cask being -ballasted sufficiently to enable the rider to keep his balance if he -used the utmost caution. The offensive weapons consisted of poles ten -feet in length terminating in a well-padded ball of rags or oakum, and -also of short sticks to which were attached blown-up bladders. - -Every evening almost every member of the numerous crews went ashore for -a camp-fire sing-song, while at various times there were competitions in -making bends and splices and other nautical accomplishments. - -At the close of the fourth day’s sing-song and after most of the -audience had dispersed, Mr. Grant sent Craddock to the wireless tent -with a message for the Scoutmaster in charge. - -Arriving at the tent, which was merely for the purpose of keeping the -four-valve receiving set in the dry—for when a broadcast concert was -on, the sides of the tent were rolled up and the loud speaker brought -into the open—Peter found that the Scoutmaster he sought had gone -across to the electrician’s quarter in order to arrange about recharging -some batteries. - -“He won’t be long,” added his informant, a King’s Scout belonging to a -Berwick Troop. “Try one of these phones while you’re waiting and see -what you can pick up. It will only be Morse on the lower wave-lengths, I -fancy. Can you read Morse?” - -“Rather,” replied Peter. - -“Guess you won’t make head or tail of this lot unless you’ve been -trained to it,” continued the Berwick lad. “We had a skilled postal -telegraphist in last night, and he was whacked. But you can try.” - -Craddock put on the head-phones, listened for about twenty seconds, and -then turned to his companion. - -“There’s an S.O.S.,” he declared. - -“Nonsense!” retorted the other incredulously. “It will be Niton calling -CQ. You’re not the first to imagine an S.O.S.” - -Nevertheless the Berwick Sea Scout took up another pair of phones. He -listened and his smile of incredulity vanished. Snatching up a pencil, -he wrote rapidly. - -Peter, too, tried to follow the bewildering succession of perplexing -sounds and could not make head or tail of it. He had to wait until his -companion had taken down the message and a reply to it. - -The S.O.S. was to the effect that the S.S. _Lumberjack_ was badly -grounded in a thick fog, position approximately six miles north-west of -Selsea Bill, and that she was rapidly breaking up in the heavy ground -swell. - -The reply was: “Hayling Island and Bembridge lifeboats proceeding to -your assistance. Have requested Government tugs to be sent from -Portsmouth.” - -The _Lumberjack_ then wirelessed: “Must take to boats.” Followed by a -warning from the shore station: “Do not attempt to land in your boats.” - -Then came the distressed vessel’s final and uncompleted appeal: “Send -help quickly. We are——” - -Craddock did not wait for the Scoutmaster’s return. In fact, he rather -surprised the Berwick lad by his abrupt and hasty departure. He took to -his heels and ran as fast as he could to Mr. Grant and told him the -news. - -“The _Lumberjack_ is the tramp we were lying close to at Dartmouth,” he -added. - -“Yes,” replied Mr. Grant. “And judging by her reported position she’s -aground not far from the mouth of this harbour. I don’t suppose we’ll be -of much use, but we’ll see what’s to be done. Get the patrol together, -Brandon. See that we’ve first aid outfits, and bring a coil of two-inch -rope along. Warn any Scoutmasters you pass on your way to the store, but -I think most of them will have heard of it already.” - -It was now nearly half-past ten. The heavy sea fog had held all the -evening and was now spreading inland, promising to get thicker before -very long. Overhead the stars were rapidly disappearing from view. The -air was perfectly still, yet even at that distance the muffled roar of -the surf on Chichester Bar and the adjoining Pole Sand could be -distinctly heard. - -In remarkably quick time the _Kestrel’s_ crew assembled. Most of them -had electric torches. Heavitree had brought a lifebelt, while Brandon -had got hold of not only a long length of two-inch rope, but also a -useful coil of heaving line. - -“Couldn’t we run the dinghy over on a trek-cart, sir?” asked Talbot. - -Mr. Grant shook his head. - -“It would be useless,” he decided. “You’ve seen the breakers on that -flat, sandy shore. No boat could possibly be launched in that turmoil. -All ready?” - -The crew set out. They were not alone, for already various Scoutmasters -had called out their Troops in order to patrol the beach in case any of -the _Lumberjack’s_ people were cast ashore. - -By this time the fog over the land had thickened considerably. It was -hardly possible to see the outlines of the hedges on either side of the -narrow lanes, and in the darkness the only way to find the right road -was for a Sea Scout to swarm up the various sign-posts and flash his -torch upon the painted directions. Unfortunately all the would-be -rescuers took the same route, with the result that when they arrived on -the beach they were all bunched together, instead of being spread out -over a wide front. - -They could see-nothing; hear nothing but the thunder of the breakers in -the still air. Mr. Grant realised the difficulty. Each Scoutmaster had -control over his own Troop, but there was no one to exercise authority -over the whole. - -“Isn’t there any District Commissioner here?” he enquired of another -Scoutmaster. “If so, he ought to take charge. We’re doing little good -huddled together. Survivors might be thrown ashore anywhere between the -mouth of the harbour and Selsea Bill.” - -“That’s a fact,” agreed the other Scoutmaster. “Hello! Here’s a car. -Perhaps——” - -The rays of the headlights seemed to stop short within a few yards of -the car, which had stopped almost at the extreme edge of the hard -ground. Another four or five feet and the wheels would have sunk in the -soft sand above high-water mark. - -Mr. Grant went to the side of the car. He saw with feelings of -satisfaction that one of the occupants wore the distinctive rig of a -District Commissioner. - -“Glad you’ve come, sir,” he began. “We want someone to straighten things -out.” - -He explained. The Commissioner, a retired Army officer, grasped the -situation at once. His powerful voice pierced the fog. In five minutes, -discipline had remedied the defect of individual initiative, and from a -fixed point patrols were extending right and left with an interval of -ten paces between each Sea Scout. Even at that short distance each -watcher was invisible to his nearest neighbour, but they were within -easy hailing distance, so that communication throughout the whole -line—there were about 250 Sea Scouts spread over a front of nearly one -and a half miles—could be maintained without difficulty. - -The crew of the _Kestrel_ found themselves in patrol formation stepping -out briskly over the board-hard sand just above low-water mark. There -were Troops ahead of them and behind them. At every half-minute came -crisp orders from the Scoutmasters of the rearmost parties; until, -glancing over his shoulder, Mr. Grant discovered that the patrol -immediately behind the _Kestrel’s_ crew had extended and halted. - -It was now the turn of the Aberstour Sea Scouts. Talbot halted and faced -seawards; the rest continued their march, Symington halting at the tenth -pace and so on, until the Patrol Leader found himself on the right of -his section of the line. - -It was an awesome business standing still and peering through the fog at -the misty white surf as it broke and receded almost within a couple of -yards of the watchers. All of them were already drenched with the flying -spray, and although the salt water felt quite warm at first, a -succession of shower baths soon became not only monotonous but extremely -unpleasant. What was happening out to sea they knew not. They could only -conjure up mental pictures of the struggle for life on the part of the -shipwrecked crew as their crazy, ill-conditioned craft was being rapidly -battered into scrap-iron somewhere within a mile of one section of that -far-flung line of would-be lifesavers. - -Presently Brandon hailed his chum. - -“Have you got Molly?” he enquired. - -“Yes,” replied Peter, who was holding the pup in his arms. “She’s with -me, but she’s got the wind up frightfully.” - -“We ought to have left her on board,” continued the Patrol Leader. - -“There wasn’t time,” rejoined Craddock. - -“’Sides, she’d be far more terrified if she’d been left by herself.” - -Another ten minutes passed. Then the Scoutmaster of the Troop on the -_Kestrel’s_ right came up to Mr. Grant. - -“There’s a boat come ashore,” he reported. “She was full of water and -capsized as she was thrown on the beach. The Weymouth Troop have found -eight of the crew. Two of them are dead. There are a lot more to be -accounted for. Pass the information along, please.” - -Presently from the left came the order, “Increase interval by four -paces.” - -This was to fill up the gap left by the Weymouth Sea Scouts, who, being -engaged in the task of restoring to life the apparently drowned members -of the _Lumberjack’s_ crew, had left their section of the shore -unwatched. Already they were carrying some of the survivors away in -hastily constructed stretchers to the shelter of an isolated farm-house. - -“Well, that looks like business, lads,” commented Mr. Grant, as he -passed behind the line. “There are others still to come ashore. Keep a -smart look-out.” - -It was easier said than done, so thick was the fog, although the stars -were beginning to show overhead through the low-lying bank of salt-laden -vapour. - -Suddenly, Molly began to bark furiously and struggled so fiercely that -Peter placed him on the sand. Instantly she darted towards the water’s -edge, and although she retreated when the next breaker swept forward, -she followed up the receding wave and continued to bark. - -Simultaneously Brandon and Craddock rushed forward. They were within ten -feet of each other before they discovered each other’s presence. - -“What is it?” asked the Patrol Leader. - -“Molly’s spotted something,” replied Peter. “Look! It’s a life-buoy.” - -The next wave brought the buoy almost to Craddock’s feet, although he -had to go knee-deep into the retiring “undertow” before he could secure -it. - -The canvas of the life-buoy was ripped in several places, and most of -the rope that ought to be attached to it was missing; but painted on it -in black letters was the name “S.S. _Lumberjack_.” - -Hurling the life-buoy out of the way of the breaking waves, Brandon was -about to resume his post when Craddock shouted to him. - - - - -[Illustration: Returning Good for Evil - Masses of milk-white foam were swirling round his legs; he could see - that the succeeding wave would be upon him before he could get into - deeper water. If it caught him squarely it would hurl him like a stone - upon the beach, and probably batter the breath from his body.] - -“Where’s the line?” he asked. “There’s a man out there. Look out for -Molly.” - -At that moment Mr. Grant and Carline appeared through the fog. Already -Peter was securing one end of the rope round his waist. - -“Look after Molly,” he reiterated. “She’ll be after me if you don’t.” -And, handing the coiled portion of the rope to Mr. Grant and Brandon, -Craddock rushed into the water. - -For the first ten yards his progress was hastened by the undertow. -Masses of milk-white foam mingled with moving sand were swirling round -his legs and urging him on. He could see that the succeeding breaker -would be upon him before he could get into deeper water. If it caught -him squarely it would hurl him like a stone upon the beach, and probably -batter the breath from his body. - -The crest towered high above his head. It was almost upon him. But Peter -kept a cool head. As the wave broke, he dived into it, felt himself -being borne backwards, was conscious of his feet coming in contact with -the ground. He wanted to kick, to leap until his head appeared above the -surging torrent. He felt he could keep his breath no longer. - -At last he broke surface and found himself beyond the breaker. He struck -out vigorously. Found himself impeded. - -“Pay out more line, you fellows!” he shouted. - -He might well have saved his breath, for his voice was inaudible in the -roar of the surf. It wasn’t that Brandon had neglected to give more -scope to the line; it was the drag of the water against it. - -There was no sign of the man he was risking his life to save. Another -wave came up, foaming ready to break. Peter surmounted it just before -the angry crest toppled over. As he did so something was thrown against -his side—something that felt like a sack of saturated sawdust. - -Instantly Peter gripped the object. It was the senseless body of a man. - -Now came the supreme effort—to regain the beach without being pounded -by the breakers. It was easy enough to come ashore—the waves would see -to that—but it was far from a simple task to protect himself and his -senseless burden from the terrible onslaught of the hammering surf. And -such a lot depended upon the life-line being hauled in at exactly the -right moment. - -The life-line, hitherto a hindrance, was now apparently uselessly slack. -Vaguely, Peter found himself wondering what possessed the fellows on the -beach: why on earth weren’t they hauling away for all they were worth? - -Then it occurred to him that even at that short distance the shore was -hidden in the fog. A mild panic seized him. What if the rope had parted -and he was being carried out to sea? - -Not for one moment did he relax his grip upon his unconscious, perhaps -lifeless, burden. Another roller was on the point of breaking. Would it -batter him into a state of insensibility? - -It overtook him, fortunately without toppling over. Right on the crest -he found himself, being urged towards the shore at a tremendous pace. -Then with a loud roar the unstable mass broke. Peter felt his feet touch -the yielding sand. He was surrounded by a swirling torrent of foam and -hurled sideways like a sack of flour. - -Then he was conscious of the life-line tautening. He was being swept -back by the undertow. In desperation he threw arms and legs round the -form of the helpless seaman in an endeavour to prevent him being torn -from his grasp. - -The rope held. Half a dozen lusty men and youths were tailing on to it. -The pressure was terrific. The sand, washed down by the undertow, rasped -Craddock’s face, hands, and knees. His lungs seemed on the point of -bursting. - -Another wave was rearing its formidable crest. Peter eyed it with -apprehension. Magnified in the fog, it looked higher than it actually -was, but the power behind it was none the less. He wondered whether he -could survive the threatened hammering of the tremendous thunderous -mass. - -He was dimly conscious of vague forms surrounding him, grasping arms and -legs. Still he held on to his helpless burden, and, since they could not -be separated, the pair were literally dragged beyond the reach of the -breaker. - -It fell harmlessly, and, like a monster baulked of its prey, retired -growling and muttering to merge into the turmoil of tumbling breakers. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - Home Again - - -When Peter came to himself he was lying on the wet sand with his head -pillowed on a greatcoat. Something warm was licking his face. It was -Molly. Overjoyed at her master’s return, she could not be restrained -from showing her joy and relief in true doggie fashion, and her delight -redoubled when the Sea Scout opened his eyes and attempted to sit up. - -“Good old Peter!” exclaimed Brandon. “How do you feel?” - -“As if I’d been sand-papered,” replied Craddock, with perfect -truthfulness. Then, recalling the reason for his present plight, he -asked, “Where’s the fellow we rescued? Is he dead?” - -“He’s alive,” declared the Patrol Leader, and, turning to Mr. Grant, he -asked in a low voice, “Can I tell him?” - -“Yes, do,” answered the Scoutmaster. - -“Do you know who the fellow is?” continued Brandon. “It’s Carlo -Bone—Blueskin.” - -Peter sat up. - -“Really?” he rejoined. “Where is he?” - -“In a farm-house with the others,” replied the Patrol Leader. “All the -crew of the vessel have been accounted for. The patrols are being -withdrawn. I say, old man, can you walk or have we to carry you?” - -“I’ll walk,” declared Craddock stoutly. - -They assisted him to his feet. He felt rather groggy, for he had -swallowed a fair quantity of salt water and had been considerably -bruised in his struggle with the waves. Walking required a great effort, -and he was glad to take his chum Brandon’s arm. - -“I reckon this night’s work means a Silver Cross for you, my lad,” -declared Heavitree. - -“Think so?” rejoined Peter. “I say; now I tumble to it. That bucket -lashed to our rudder. Blueskin must have done that. Won’t he look bluer -than he is when he finds out we know.” - -And Craddock went off into fits of hysterical laughter and sat down -inertly in a muddy lane. - -The Sea Scouts carried him after that. - -They did not take him on board that night. Instead, he was put to bed in -the shore hospital tent, where Mr. Grant remained watching by his side. - -Next morning Peter awoke feeling quite his normal self except for the -fact that his limbs were a bit stiff. - -That afternoon Peter, accompanied by Mr. Grant, Brandon, and Heavitree, -went over to see the man he had rescued. The visit was paid at -Blueskin’s request, for the man was really grateful. Nevertheless the -expression on his face was one of comical dismay when he recognised the -members of the _Kestrel’s_ crew. - -“I’m right down sorry I played the dirty on yer,” he declared. - -“That’s all right,” replied Mr. Grant. “We’ll call the account square. -But why did you?” - -“It’s like this ’ere,” explained Blueskin. “I war fair upset when I -found you’d bought that there boat. I wanted ’er, and seein’ as I didn’t -get ’er, I sort o’ made up my mind no one else shouldn’t. I oughtn’t tu -’ave tried to set she afire, but I reckoned as you’d get out afore any -’arm was done yer.” - -“Neither was there, fortunately,” added the Scoutmaster. “But we didn’t -know you were the fellow. We thought you might be, so we kept watch on -your house all night.” - -“I knows you did,” agreed Blueskin. “You were outside my house when I -got ’ome.” - -“And how did you manage that?” asked Peter. - -Blueskin gave the suspicion of a wink. - -“That’s tellin’,” he answered oracularly. “But I’m a-goin’ straight -arter this, I am,” he declared. - -“Good!” exclaimed Craddock. “We hope you will. But I think you can -answer my question: isn’t there an underground passage between old Dick -Marner’s shed and your cottage?” - -For a moment Blueskin looked thunderstruck. - -“Yes,” he admitted. “Sure there is. ’Ow did you twig it? Sakes alive! A -chap like me must get up very early in t’mornin’ tu get to wind’ard of a -Sea Scout, I’m thinkin’.” - -“How did you find out about the secret tunnel?” asked Brandon of his -chum after the interview with Carlo Bone. - -“I didn’t,” replied Peter. “It was a guess on my part. I’d been thinking -things over, and, like Mr. Grant got it out of young Marner that he -hadn’t a motor bike, that rather confirmed my theory, although, of -course, I might have been wide of the mark.” - -Little more remains to be told. - -The Jamboree ran its course in perfect weather and with unabated -enthusiasm. At its termination, Eric Little was sent to his uncle’s -house at Chichester, where life for him was considerably brightened by -his being able to have friends of his own age. He lost no time in -becoming a Cub. - -After the termination of the Sea Scouts’ marine festival, the assembly -of yachts and boats dispersed. The _Kestrel_ got away in company with -nearly a dozen craft bound for the eastern part of the English Channel -and the East Coast. Three days later she entered Aberstour Harbour and -made fast alongside the quay in the berth the old _Puffin_ had so long -occupied. - -“We’ve had a topping time,” declared Heavitree, as the crew prepared to -disperse to their respective homes. “Course we’ve had sticky times, too; -but what’s the use of being Sea Scouts if we don’t know how to tackle -them?” - -“We haven’t done so badly,” admitted Craddock cautiously. “We’re here, -safe and sound, that’s the main point. And I don’t think it’s entirely -owing to good luck. I rather fancy there’s another reason, and a jolly -good one.” - -“What’s that?” enquired his chum. - -“We’ve kept to the good old Scout’s motto: ‘Be Prepared.’” - - THE END - - - - - T H E I A N H A R D Y S E R I E S - BY - COMMANDER E. HAMILTON CURREY, R.N. - _Each Volume with Illustrations in Colour. 5s. nett._ - - Ian Hardy’s career in H.M. Navy is told in four volumes, which - are described below. Each volume is complete in itself, and no - knowledge of the previous volumes is necessary, but few boys - will read one of the series without wishing to peruse the - others. - - IAN HARDY, NAVAL CADET -“A sound and wholesome story giving a lively picture of a naval cadet’s - life.” - _Birmingham Gazette._ - - “A very wholesome book for boys, and the lurking danger of Ian’s - ill deeds being imitated may be regarded as negligible in - comparison with the good likely to be done by the example of his - manly, honest nature. Ian was a boy whom his father might - occasionally have reason to whip, but never feel ashamed - of.”—_United Service Magazine._ - - IAN HARDY, MIDSHIPMAN - - “A jolly sequel to his last year’s book.”—_Christian World._ - - “The ‘real thing.’ . . . Certain to enthral boys of almost any - age who love stories of British pluck.”—_Observer._ - - “=Commander E. Hamilton Currey, R.N., is becoming a serious - rival to Kingston as a writer of sea stories.= Just as a former - generation revelled in Kingston’s doings of his three heroes - from their middy days until they became admirals all, so will - the present-day boys read with interest the story of Ian Hardy. - Last year we knew him as a cadet; this year we get _Ian Hardy, - Midshipman_. The present instalment of his stirring history is - breezily written.”—_Yorkshire Observer._ - - IAN HARDY, SENIOR MIDSHIPMAN - - “Of those who are now writing stories of the sea, Commander - Currey holds perhaps the leading position. He has a gift of - narrative, a keen sense of humour, and above all he writes from - a full stock of knowledge.”—_Saturday Review._ - - “=It is no exaggeration to say that Commander Currey bears - worthily the mantle of Kingston and Captain - Marryat.=”—_Manchester Courier._ - - “The Ian Hardy Series is just splendid for boys to read, and the - best of it is that each book is complete in itself. But not many - boys will read one of the series without being keenly desirous - of reading all the others.”—_Sheffield Telegraph._ - - IAN HARDY FIGHTING THE MOORS - - “By writing this series the author is doing national service, - for he writes of the Navy and the sea with knowledge and sound - sense. . . . What a welcome addition the whole series would make - to a boy’s library.”—_Daily Graphic._ - - “The right romantic stuff, full of fighting and hairbreadth - escapes. . . . Commander Currey has the secret of making the men - and ships seem actual.”—_Times._ - - “By this time Ian Hardy has become a real friend and we consider - him all a hero should be.” - - _Outlook._ - SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED - TRANSCRIBER NOTES - - Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where - multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed. - - Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer - errors occur. - - Book title and author's name has been added to the original - cover. - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA SCOUTS OF THE -KESTREL *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Westerman</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> - <meta name="cover" content="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - body { margin-left:8%;margin-right:10%; } - .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; - text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; - border:1px solid silver; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; - font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration:none; } - .pageno:after { color: gray; content: attr(title); } - .it { font-style:italic; } - .bold { font-weight:bold; } - .sc { font-variant:small-caps; } - .ul { text-decoration:underline; } - .gesp { letter-spacing:0.2em; } - p { text-indent:0; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; - text-align: justify; } - div.lgc { } - div.lgl { } - div.lgc p { text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } - div.lgl p { text-indent: -17px; margin-left:17px; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } - h1 { - text-align:center; - font-weight:normal; - page-break-before: always; - font-size:1.2em; margin:2em auto 1em auto - } - - .sub-head { font-size: smaller; } - - .dropcap { - float:left; - clear: left; - margin:0 0.1em 0 0; - padding:0; - line-height: 1.0em; - font-size: 200%; - } - - - .lead-in { - font-variant: small-caps; - } - - hr.pbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:100%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em } - .figcenter { - text-align:center; - margin:1em auto; - page-break-inside: avoid; - } - - div.blockquote { margin:1em 2em; text-align:justify; } - div.blockquote0r9 { margin:1em 2em; } - div.blockquote0r9 p { font-size: 0.9em } - .nobreak { page-break-before: avoid; } - p.line { text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } - table { page-break-inside: avoid; } - table.center { margin:0.5em auto; border-collapse: collapse; padding:3px; } - table.flushleft { margin:0.5em 0em; border-collapse: collapse; padding:3px; } - table.left { margin:0.5em 1.2em; border-collapse: collapse; padding:3px; } - .tab1c1 { } - .tab1c2 { } - .tab1c3 { } - .tab2c1 { } - .tab2c2 { } - .tab1c1-col3 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tab2c1-col2 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tdStyle0 { - padding: 3px 5px; text-align:left; vertical-align:top; - } - .tdStyle1 { - padding: 3px 5px; text-align:center; vertical-align:top; - } - .tdStyle2 { - padding: 3px 5px; text-align:right; vertical-align:top; - } - .pindent { margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:1.5em; } - .noindent { margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:0; } - .hang { padding-left:1.5em; text-indent:-1.5em; } - </style> - <style type="text/css"> - p {margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-indent:1.5em;} - h1 {font-family: serif; font-size:2em; text-align:center; - margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; line-height:180%;} - .sub-head {font-size:1em;} - .lead-in{ font-size: larger;} - hr.tbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid; - width:30%; margin-left:35%; margin-right:35%; - margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; visibility:hidden;} - .dropcap {font-size: 200%; font-weight:bold; margin:0em 0em 0em 0; } - .pageno {visibility:hidden; } - </style> - </head> - <body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sea Scouts of the Kestrel, by Percy F. Westerman</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Sea Scouts of the Kestrel</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>The story of a cruise of adventure & pluck in a small yacht on the English Channel</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Percy F. Westerman</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 23, 2022 [eBook #69612]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Al Haines, Jen Haines & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA SCOUTS OF THE KESTREL ***</div> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0000' style='width:80%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/front.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0001' style='width:90%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:2.5em;'><span class='gesp'>THE SEA SCOUTS</span></p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em;'>OF</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:2.5em;'><span class='gesp'>THE <span class='it'>KESTREL</span></span></p> - -<div class='lgc' style='margin-bottom:2em;'> <!-- rend=';fs:1.2em;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.2em;'>The Story of a Cruise of Adventure & Pluck in</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.2em;'>a Small Yacht on the English</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.2em;'>Channel</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em;'><span class='it'>By</span></p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.2em;'>PERCY F. WESTERMAN</p> - -<div class='lgc' style='margin-bottom:5em;'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.9em;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>Author of</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>“Clipped Wings,” “Sea Scouts Abroad,” “The</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>Sea Monarch,” “Under the White</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>Ensign,” <span class='it'>&c. &c.</span></p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:10em;font-size:0.9em;'><span class='it'>With Coloured Illustrations</span></p> - -<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:1.2em;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.2em;'>London</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.2em;'>Seeley, Service & Co. Limited</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.2em;'>196 Shaftesbury Avenue</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='lgc' style='margin-top:10em;margin-bottom:10em;'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.9em;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>Printed in Great Britain at</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'><span class='it'>The Mayflower Press, Plymouth</span>. William Brendon & Son, Ltd.</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<table id='tab1' summary='' class='center'> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'><span style='font-size:x-large'>CONTENTS</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER I</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><span style='font-size:x-small'>PAGE</span></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Knocked Out</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER II</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Mascot</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_28'>28</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER III</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>An All-night Watch</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_36'>36</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER IV</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Investigations</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER V</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Adrift</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_51'>51</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER VI</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>In the Fog</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER VII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Derelict</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_70'>70</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER VIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Man they Rescued</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER IX</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>What Marner Revealed</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER X</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Blueskin’s Plot</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_96'>96</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XI</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>How it Failed</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_101'>101</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Out of Action</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_111'>111</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Stowaway</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_117'>117</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XIV</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Peril of the Race</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_130'>130</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XV</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'>“<span class='sc'>To be Returned in Due Course</span>”</td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XVI</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The “Kestrel” to the Rescue</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_150'>150</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XVII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Becalmed</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_159'>159</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XVIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Admiral</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_168'>168</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XIX</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Convict</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_177'>177</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XX</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Last Lap</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_191'>191</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XXI</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Eve of the Jamboree</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XXII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>The Race for the Cup</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_211'>211</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XXIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>A Dead Heat</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_223'>223</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XXIV</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Snatched from the Deep</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_232'>232</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'> </td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col3 tdStyle1' colspan='3'>CHAPTER XXV</td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Home Again</span></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle1'><a href='#Page_245'>245</a></td><td class='tab1c3 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<table id='tab2' summary='' class='center'> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tab2c1-col2 tdStyle1' colspan='2'><span style='font-size:x-large'>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>In the Toils of the Dreaded Race</span></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'><span style='font-size:smaller'><span class='it'>Frontispiece</span></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'><span style='font-size:x-small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>A Cowardly Deed and a Plucky Rescue</span></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'><a href='#img24'>24</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>An Unwelcome Visitor</span></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'><a href='#img184'>184</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle0'><span class='sc'>Returning Good for Evil</span></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'><a href='#img240'>240</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:1.5em;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.5em;'>THE</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:1.5em;'>SEA SCOUTS OF THE “KESTREL”</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';fs:2em;bold;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:2em;font-weight:bold;'>The Sea Scouts of the</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:2em;font-weight:bold;'>“Kestrel”</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='17' id='Page_17'></span><h1 class='nobreak'> CHAPTER I <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Knocked Out</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“W</span>hat’s</span> happened to Mr. Grant, I -wonder?” remarked Sea Scout Peter -Craddock, as he gazed anxiously through the -gathering twilight. “He’s late.”</p> - -<p>“So will we be, if we keep hanging-on to the -slack,” rejoined Patrol Leader Frank Brandon. -“There are only eighteen more days to the Sea -Scouts’ Jamboree, and if we’re to be in it, there’s -not a minute to waste. Mr. Grant’s all right, -never you fear.”</p> - -<p>Craddock straightened his aching back, wiped -the perspiration from his eyes, and resumed his -voluntary though tedious task. He, too, realised -that time was precious if the “Otters” were to -be represented at the forthcoming and eagerly -anticipated nautical festivities of the Sea Scouts’ -Jamboree.</p> - -<p>The “Otters” were a long way from their -native Aberstour. Force of circumstances had hit -them pretty hard of late, but, like corks, they -bobbed up again under adversity as all scouts -should do.</p> - -<p>For one thing, their staunch little yacht <span class='it'>Puffin</span> -was no more. She had foundered at her moorings -in a terrific autumn gale that had sprung up with -such suddenness that the official weather forecast -had failed to give any warning whatsoever. Then, -Mr. Grant, their Scoutmaster, had a serious -illness that put him out of the running for three -months. Patrol Leader Frank Brandon was away -on a five months’ involuntary voyage on a tramp -steamer, and had only just returned.</p> - -<p>In the absence of Scoutmaster and Patrol -Leader, Peter Craddock did his level best to keep -the troop running, and by dint of sheer enthusiasm -he had succeeded.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant had recovered his health when the -Sea Scouts’ Jamboree was announced. It was -to be a gathering of every troop in the United -Kingdom, and was to be held in the spacious -land-locked waters of Chichester harbour. There -were to be sailing and motor-boat races, rowing -and sculling matches, swimming and diving contests, -and numerous competitions in which the -Sea Scouts were to display their prowess. For -those lads who were unable to come round in -their own craft a splendid camping site was -provided; but, as Peter Craddock remarked, a -lot of the fun would be missed if the “Otters” -had to hike it by road, and then be compelled -to see others display their seamanship, they -themselves being unable to compete in friendly -rivalry. Without the <span class='it'>Puffin</span>, the outlook seemed -a bit disappointing.</p> - -<p>Then, quite unexpectedly, a chance presented -itself. The Scoutmaster heard of a suitable craft -offered for sale at a very reasonable figure owing -to the present owner finding himself unable to -carry out his original intentions.</p> - -<p>She was an ex-naval “launch”—a boat propelled -either by sail or oars—of very substantial -construction and only a few years old. She was -forty-two feet in length and diagonal built. That is -to say, she had her planks doubled, those forming -the outer skin running diagonally on those of the -inner skin. This system resulted in great strength -of hull, while in addition the edges of the planking -were “flush,” otherwise a smooth surface.</p> - -<p>Her present owner had intended to convert the -launch into a ketch yacht, and had already given -her a fairly deep iron keel and had commenced to -deck her in and build a cabin. Then he “stuck” -owing to lack of funds; and to make the best of -his bargain offered the craft as she stood.</p> - -<p>“As she stood,” meant that she was lying afloat -at Polkebo Creek, a remote inlet of the spacious -Cornish harbour of Falmouth, which was a long -way from Aberstour.</p> - -<p>The Sea Scouts held a council of ways and -means. Fortunately they had seven weeks’ holiday. -The proposal of a trip to Falmouth to bring back -the boat seemed alluring. As for the completion -of the conversion job, the lads were all handy with -carpenters’ tools: their Troop funds were enough -to justify the expenses.</p> - -<p>The deal was completed, and the “Otters” -lost no time in proceeding to Falmouth and taking -over the new craft.</p> - -<p>Compared with the <span class='it'>Puffin</span> she was a lump of a -boat. With her newly fitted iron keel she was “as -stiff as a house.” Her original masts, sails, anchor, -chain and other gear were stored in a shed adjoining -the creek. Timber and other necessary -material were readily procurable at Falmouth. -Most of these were brought by water in a serviceable -14-foot dinghy that had been included in the -bargain.</p> - -<p>Work progressed apace. The Sea Scouts stuck -it gamely, cheerfully working long hours in the -assurance that theirs was a labour of love for that -fickle taskmistress the sea. The kindly fisherfolk -of Polkebo took great interest in “them young -furriners,” giving the amateur shipwrights many -useful hints and, what was more, helpful assistance.</p> - -<p>There was one exception, however. That was -Carlo Bone, generally known as Blueskin, a hulking -lout of about thirty and the despair of the -district. He was tall, heavily built and, with -proper exercise and clean living, ought to have -been a formidable figure in the old Cornish -pastime of wrestling. Unfortunately he showed -no inclination either to work or to play decently. -When sheer necessity compelled him to work, he -sometimes shipped on board a coaster. The local -fisherfolk knew him only too well, and there was -never a berth for him in the pilchard fleet. During -his many spells of idleness “on the beach,” he -spent all the time the Law allows in lounging in -public-houses. He was a cunning poacher, but -he had never been caught in the act. Rumour had -it that he combined the undesirable occupations -of thief and smuggler. Already his evil life had -left its mark. His face was flabby, and his features -were of a purplish hue. Hence his name Blueskin.</p> - -<p>Blueskin had a grievance against the Sea Scouts. -He had hoped to obtain possession of the ex-Service -launch by fair means or, preferably, by -foul; but the late owner had refused to part with -the boat merely on vague promises to pay, coming -as they did from Carlo Bone. From morning to -night, except when the “Dog and Gun” was open, -Blueskin would lounge about on the quayside -and bombard the lads with sarcastic and offensive -remarks, attempting in vain to make them abandon -their task.</p> - -<p>On the afternoon on which this story opens, -Mr. Grant and Sea Scout Carline had rowed to -the Prince of Wales’s pier at Falmouth to bring -off provisions and sundry stores. It was now -nearly ten o’clock, and they had not returned. The -long Cornish twilight was setting in. In another -twenty minutes, night would have fallen. For a -wonder, Blueskin’s now familiar and unwelcome -figure had not put in an appearance that evening.</p> - -<p>“Knock off now, lads!” ordered Brandon. -“It’s been a long day, but we simply had to finish -that bulkhead. Start the stove, Wilson, my lad. -I don’t suppose Mr. Grant will be much longer. -He’s got a fair tide up.”</p> - -<p>Wilson went below, leaving the Patrol Leader, -Craddock, Talbot, and Heavitree to put away the -tools and to spread a tarpaulin over the as yet -unpainted cabin-top.</p> - -<p>At that moment the Sea Scouts noticed Carlo -Bone slouching towards the quay. At every few -steps he stopped and tugged savagely at a length -of rope, the while cursing loudly. At the other -end of the rope was a dog, or rather a puppy of -about two months.</p> - -<p>With the instinctiveness of its kind, the little -animal realised that something more unpleasant -than its usual treatment at the hands of its brutal -owner was in store for it. Vainly it tried to break -away, only to be jerked remorselessly onwards.</p> - -<p>“The cad!” muttered Craddock. “He’s doing -that just to make us lose our tempers. He knows -Mr. Grant isn’t here, and there isn’t a policeman -to be seen anywhere about.”</p> - -<p>Peter Craddock was perfectly right in his surmise. -Blueskin was doing his best to pick a -quarrel at the expense of the little animal’s life. -Deliberately, as far as his unsteady gait permitted, -he dragged the puppy to the edge of the quay, -where in full view of the Sea Scouts he bent the -free end of the rope round a heavy stone.</p> - -<p>For a wonder he said nothing; but the ugly -leer on his flabby face was enough. He was going -to drown the dog before the eyes of the practically -helpless Sea Scouts. Nothing short of a display -of concerted brute force could stop him. He knew -that. There is no law in the country to prevent a -man drowning his own dog, provided he does it -with reasonable celerity.</p> - -<p>The Sea Scouts scrambled on to the quay.</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do?” demanded -Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Gwine ter du? Seems you’ve no eyes, like,” -retorted Blueskin thickly. “You’m not th’ ones -tu stop I.”</p> - -<p>“Will you sell us the dog?” asked the Patrol -Leader.</p> - -<p>“Noa, I won’t,” was the ungracious reply. -“Thet pup ain’t no gude tu noabody. Teared -my boots tu pieces, ’e did; so in t’water ’e goes. -Get out o’ my way, I tell ye.”</p> - -<p>The other Sea Scouts looked helplessly at the -Patrol Leader. Brandon gave no sign. In the -circumstances things looked hopeless. Blueskin -had the whip-hand; or at least he thought he -had.</p> - -<p>He lifted both the puppy and the stone from the -ground. . . . Grinned tauntingly at the lads. . . . -Prepared to hurl the terrified animal to its doom.</p> - -<p>Stepping behind his chums, Peter Craddock -felt for his keen-edged knife. He had the ready -knack of opening it with one hand. He did so, -and as unostentatiously released it from the -swivel.</p> - -<p>“Let the brute throw the dog in,” he whispered -in Brandon’s ear. “Don’t attempt to stop -him.”</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader turned in amazement. One -look at his chum’s determined features told him -that Peter Craddock had something up his sleeve. -Peter had: in a double sense. The keen blade, edge -outwards, was nestling against his wrist.</p> - -<p>There was a splash. The puppy, weighted by -the heavy stone, struck the water six feet below -the quay. A second later and Peter Craddock -took a magnificent header close to the spot where -the little animal had disappeared.</p> - -<p>Craddock was a splendid diver. Three years in -succession he had won a prize in the plate-diving -competition at the Aberstour Regatta, and now he -was putting his skill to a practical test.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/024.jpg' alt='' id='img24' style='width:90%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<p>It was a difficult matter to see under the water -in the failing daylight, but before the stone touched -bottom, Peter’s left hand caught the fiercely struggling -puppy. One quick movement of the keen -knife and the deed was done. Still retaining his -hold of the released animal, Craddock shot to the -surface, and amidst the ringing cheers of his now -thoroughly excited chums struck out for the stone -steps at the end of the quay.</p> - -<p>But Blueskin had yet to be reckoned with.</p> - -<p>“That’s my pup,” he declared angrily, planting -himself in front of the dripping Sea Scout. -“ ’And ’im ower tu me. In ’e goes intu the ditch -agen, I tells yu.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me,” protested Peter coolly. “It was -yours. When you threw the dog in you threw -away all rights to it. It’s ours now. . . . Take -charge of it, please, Brandon.”</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader took the shivering pup. The -animal, fearing further punishment, struggled -frantically to gain the shelter of its rescuer’s protecting -arms.</p> - -<p>Carlo Bone was flabbergasted. His slowly acting -brain was trying to think out the problem. -No doubt that interfering “furriner” was right. -He was a fool not to stop him from diving to the -rescue. There yet remained the question of brute -force. He would be more than a match for the -whole crowd of “they Sea Scoutses.”</p> - -<p>“Gimme that dawg!” he shouted, striding -towards the Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>Peter barred his way. Blueskin aimed a vicious -blow at Craddock’s chest. The Sea Scout, in -successfully evading the massive fist, stepped -backwards. As he did so his rubber-soled shoes -slithered on the stones, for no footgear is proof -against the slippery quays of the West Country -where fish have just been landed. He fell. The -bully promptly dealt him a kick with his heavy -sea-boot.</p> - -<p>There is a limit to human endurance, even to -that of a well-disciplined patrol of Scouts. In an -instant Fred Heavitree planted himself between -Blueskin and the prostrate Craddock.</p> - -<p>Heavitree was the latest recruit to the “Otters.” -He was a tall, slim youth of a somewhat retiring -disposition, keen at his work and yet never before -displaying any signs of unusual strength and -activity. His chums were about to get one of -life’s surprises; so was Blueskin.</p> - -<p>“Keep back, you fellows,” cautioned Heavitree -in a low yet compelling tone.</p> - -<p>The bully, thinking he had an easy task, let out -a terrific left. Had it reached its objective, Heavitree -would have been lifted clean off his feet. The -Sea Scout was unable to spring back out of harm’s -way, because Craddock was still on the ground. -Instead, without moving his feet, he inclined his -body from the waist.</p> - -<p>Blueskin’s fist met nothing more resisting than -air. Before he could recover his balance, the Sea -Scout had him properly. A tremendous thud as -Heavitree’s left caught the bully fairly between -the eyes was almost simultaneously followed by a -heavy right straight to the <span class='it'>solar plexus</span>.</p> - -<p>Heavitree stood his ground, guarding to meet a -counter-attack. It was a judicious but unnecessary -precaution, for Carlo Bone, his arms whirling -like windmills, staggered backwards for three or -four yards, and collapsed in a heap upon the -rough pavement.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='28' id='Page_28'></span><h1> CHAPTER II <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Mascot</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>F</span>or</span> some moments the Sea Scouts remained -dumbfounded at their chum’s prowess. -Heavitree, by far the least perturbed, stood -silently regarding the prostrate form of his late -antagonist.</p> - -<p>“You’ve killed him, Fred,” exclaimed Wilson.</p> - -<p>“Not I,” replied Heavitree. “He’ll be all -right in ten minutes or so, ’cept perhaps for a bad -headache. Did he give you much of a hack, -Peter?”</p> - -<p>“He tried to,” said Craddock, as he examined -his shin. The skin had been slightly lacerated -and was bleeding a little. The moisture draining -from the Sea Scout’s saturated shorts and mingling -with the crimson fluid made the abrasion look -far worse than it actually was. “He tried to; but -his feet sort of side-slipped. My word, Fred! -That was a knock-out blow. Where did you learn -that?”</p> - -<p>Before the specialist in the art of “knocking -out” could reply, a number of fisherfolk and -villagers came hurrying to the quay. One of the -number had seen Blueskin floored, and had communicated -the news to the frequenters of the -“Dog and Gun,” with the result that “closing -time” was anticipated for the first time in the -annals of that ancient inn to the extent of nearly -three minutes.</p> - -<p>“Sakes, if ’tisn’t Blueskin!” exclaimed a -bearded fisherman. “Laid out prapper-like, tu. -’Ave ye been hittin’ he ower head with a -hammer?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Brandon. “He went for one of -us: kicked him. So Heavitree knocked him -down.”</p> - -<p>“What with?” asked the astonished Cornishman.</p> - -<p>“His fist. It was a fair blow,” declared the -Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>“Did he now? Us ’ud think ’twould take -more’n a fist tu settle the loikes of ’e. We’m -right glad, we’m is; but harkee—Blueskin’s a -twi’ble dangerous man to fall foul wi’. He’ll get -his own back, loike, e’en if he’s tu wait ten year. -Isn’t that so, friends?”</p> - -<p>The other villagers nodded their heads.</p> - -<p>“We’ll look out, then,” rejoined Brandon. -“Well, there’s nothing more to be done, I take it. -Come on, Peter, and change your gear.”</p> - -<p>With the rescued puppy nestling in the Patrol -Leader’s arms the Sea Scouts returned on board, -leaving the Polkebo folk to carry the still unconscious -form of their unpopular fellow-villager to -the ramshackle and sordid cottage which he called -his home.</p> - -<p>The Sea Scouts crowded into their partly -finished cabin. The lamp had been lighted; a -large iron kettle was on the stove. Compared -with the comfortable cabin of the little <span class='it'>Puffin</span>, the -place looked barn-like and cheerless. It had yet -to be made into a really habitable cabin, but even -now it was rain-proof and afforded the lads a -shelter even if it were a case of “sleeping -rough.”</p> - -<p>“Rummy looking little beast, what?” commented -Brandon, pausing in the act of drying the -puppy’s coat to study the general appearance of -the rescued animal. Even for a puppy its hair was -long, its ears drooping. Neck, chest and forefeet -were white, as was a blaze extending almost to the -tip of its jet-black nose. The rest of the fur was -of a dark grey hue.</p> - -<p>“It’s our mascot, anyway,” declared Wilson. -“My word, Peter; you were pretty smart in -diving after it.”</p> - -<p>“Was I?” rejoined Craddock in a muffled -tone as he struggled into a dry jersey. “I hadn’t -any idea how long I was under. It was just luck -grabbing the pup as I did.”</p> - -<p>“What shall we call it?” enquired Symington.</p> - -<p>“That’s for Peter to say,” replied Brandon. -“He saved the pup. . . . Hello! Here’s the dinghy -alongside.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry I’m late, lads!” exclaimed Mr. Grant, -as he stepped into the cabin, blinking as he did so -at the strong light compared to the darkness without. -“We’ve had rather an interesting yarn with -Scoutmaster Pendennis, haven’t we, Carline? His -Sea Scouts are going to the Jamboree, too; so -we’ll—Hello! What’s that?”</p> - -<p>“Our mascot, sir,” replied Brandon, holding -out the pup for inspection.</p> - -<p>“Where did you get it from?” asked Mr. -Grant.</p> - -<p>“It was that chap Carlo Bone’s, sir,” was the -somewhat vague reply.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster showed no great enthusiasm -over the announcement. He did not like the idea -of the lads accepting any favours from a surly -good-for-nothing rascal of that type.</p> - -<p>“Did he give it you?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” replied the Patrol Leader. “He -threw the pup into the creek, and Peter fetched -it out. Then——”</p> - -<p>“Suppose you tell the yarn from the beginning, -Brandon,” said Mr. Grant quietly. “This sounds -rather interesting.”</p> - -<p>Frank Brandon did so. The Scoutmaster -listened without making any comment until the -story was completed.</p> - -<p>“It served Blueskin right,” he remarked. “I’m -sorry we’ve had a row, but he evidently asked for -it. We’ll have to be careful when he’s about. -I didn’t know, you were a budding pugilist, -Heavitree. Where did you learn to use your -fists?”</p> - -<p>“At school, sir. We were taught boxing. I -was supposed to be rather good at it; only one -day I hit a fellow rather hard. It was a sparring -match. I really didn’t mean to hurt him, but I -did. After that I felt afraid of myself and dropped -boxing.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve won our mascot, haven’t we, sir?” -enquired Brandon.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant assented.</p> - -<p>“We were going to give it a name when you -came back, sir,” said Peter.</p> - -<p>“Carry on, then,” prompted the Scoutmaster. -“What do you suggest?”</p> - -<p>“Bruin, sir; it’s like a teddy bear.”</p> - -<p>“H’m!” exclaimed Mr. Grant dubiously. -“It’s hardly the correct thing to call a female -dog by a masculine name. You’d better start on -another tack. Well, that’s a matter for you fellows -to discuss. How have you been getting on?”</p> - -<p>“We’ve finished the bulkhead to your cabin,” -announced Peter. “The cabin-top has had the -first coat of paint ready for the canvas to be -stretched. Wilson and Talbot have been fitting -the bunks in the main cabin, so we won’t have to -sleep on the floor in future.”</p> - -<p>“That’s good!” said Mr. Grant encouragingly. -“To-morrow if it’s fine we’ll polish off that cabin-top. -We ought to have the masts stepped, and -the standing rigging set up by the end of the week. -That reminds me: Scoutmaster Pendennis is -taking a patrol to the Jamboree in the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. -We’ll be cruising in company unless the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> is -too smart for us. I hope our craft will prove to -be fairly fast—enough to keep up with her. -Talking about names: we haven’t given our boat -a name yet.”</p> - -<p>“How would <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> do, sir?” suggested -Brandon. “A merlin is a sort of hawk, and so is -a kestrel.”</p> - -<p>“Good idea!” agreed Mr. Grant. “Now, -you fellows: supper and bed. We’ve another -long day’s work in front of us to-morrow. I don’t -fancy Mr. Carlo Bone will favour us with his undesirable -attendance to-night.”</p> - -<p>In ordinary circumstances the Sea Scouts slept -like logs. Already they were quite hardened to -lying on bare boards. To-night for the first time -since their arrival at Polkebo Creek, they were -sleeping either on bunks extending the whole -length and both sides of the main saloon or in -hammocks slung from the beams. Yet, in spite -of the great improvement in comfort, they showed -no inclination for repose. They chattered, discussing -a suitable name for their mascot and going -over the events of that memorable evening until -Mr. Grant’s voice, coming from the adjoining -cabin, bade them keep quiet.</p> - -<p>After that the silence was broken only by the -whimpering of the puppy. She, too, was doubtless -going through the terrifying time when she -was struggling under water weighted down by a -stone.</p> - -<p>It was not until Peter Craddock put his arm -over the side of his bunk and stroked the now -soft, silky hair that the little animal quieted down. -Licking the hand of her rescuer, she gave a little -sigh of gratification and confidence and dropped -into a sound slumber.</p> - -<p>Bodily tired though he was, Peter simply could -not sleep. He lay thinking and thinking—which -is a jolly bad symptom in a healthy youth. He -was puzzling his brains to decide upon a suitable -name for the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> mascot.</p> - -<p>Presently he realised that fine rain was falling -on the tarpaulin placed over the uncompleted -cabin-top. It was a strange sort of rain—falling -intermittently. It smelt strange, too.</p> - -<p>“Petrol!” thought the lad.</p> - -<p>He sniffed suspiciously. This surmise was confirmed. -The interior of the cabin was reeking -with the fumes of that highly inflammable -spirit.</p> - -<p>In a flash the Sea Scout’s mind was alert.</p> - -<p>There could be but one solution to the mystery. -Blueskin, utterly reckless in his mad desire to -revenge himself, was spraying petrol on the yacht’s -deck. At any moment a lighted match thrown by -the miscreant on the quayside would make the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> a mass of flaming woodwork.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='36' id='Page_36'></span><h1> CHAPTER III <br/> <span class='sub-head'>An All-Night Watch</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>P</span>eter Craddock</span> had to decide promptly -upon his plan of action. Two courses suggested -themselves: either to arouse Mr. Grant -and give the alarm, or else to scare the miscreant -away.</p> - -<p>He decided upon the latter plan. Too much -valuable time would be wasted in waking the -Scoutmaster. More than likely the other Sea -Scouts would be roused; and then, if one of them -struck a match, the highly explosive mixture of -air and petrol in the cabin would go up with -terrific force. No; his best plan would be to -frighten away the cowardly rogue, who was certainly -counting upon the supposition that the -crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were sleeping soundly, in order -to carry out his diabolical plan.</p> - -<p>Grasping an electric torch that he always kept -within hand’s reach during the night watches, -Peter slipped out of his bunk, glided noiselessly -out of the cabin, and gained the cockpit. Then, -directing the torch towards the quay, he released -a dazzling ray.</p> - -<p>He was too late to spot the miscreant. In spite -of the Sea Scout’s cautious movements, the man -had heard the disturbing sounds. Afraid to complete -his dastardly work, the fellow had taken to -his heels. Peter could hear his boots clattering -upon the stone paving.</p> - -<p>It was now almost dead low water. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -was high and dry, supported by legs and lying -parallel to and at a distance of a couple of yards -from the quay, the edge of which rose quite eight -feet above the deck. Consequently the quay served -as a ridge to prevent the rays of Peter’s torch -sweeping the whole extent of the open expanse -between the line of cottages and the creek.</p> - -<p>By the time Craddock had gained the cabin-top, -whence he could command a view of the -adjoining ground, the fellow had disappeared. -Although this escape of the miscreant was a disappointment, -Peter realised that his hideous plans -had been frustrated.</p> - -<p>“Who’s there?” enquired Mr. Grant’s voice -from the cabin. Aroused by Craddock’s movements—and -it is remarkable how plainly the -faintest sound can be heard on deck when only -three-quarters of an inch of matchboarding intervenes—the -Scoutmaster sat up, listening intently. -Evidently the fumes of the petrol had not as yet -penetrated the bulkhead separating his cabin from -the one in which the seven Sea Scouts slept.</p> - -<p>Before replying Peter re-entered the saloon. -As he did so the puppy gave an aggressive -growl. Brandon woke up.</p> - -<p>“Phew!” he ejaculated. “What a whiff!”</p> - -<p>“It is,” agreed Peter. “Turn out, old son, -and rouse the others. Don’t let any of them strike -a light. The place is chock full of petrol fumes.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that—petrol fumes?” demanded Mr. -Grant from the partitioned-off cabin.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” replied Craddock. “Can you come -on deck? I’ve a torch handy.”</p> - -<p>By this time the other Sea Scouts with one -exception were “beginning to sit up and take -notice.” During the process, Talbot, who was -sleeping in a hammock, bumped his head against -a deck beam. His swaying resting-place swayed -still more, slinging him out and depositing him on -one of the bunks where Wilson was sleeping -soundly. Mutual protests arose only to be -checked by the Patrol Leader, who bade the pair, -“Stow that row and get your things on.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Mr. Grant had hurriedly dressed. -Making sure that every lad realised the supreme -importance of refraining from striking a match, -he told Brandon, Craddock, Heavitree, and Carline -to follow him while the others dispersed the -dangerous fumes from the interior of the saloon.</p> - -<p>“Which way did the fellow go, Peter?” asked -Mr. Grant.</p> - -<p>Craddock told him.</p> - -<p>“Away from his cottage, then,” continued the -Scoutmaster. “Good! We’ll picket the place. -A scoundrel like that deserves all he gets; but -it’s just possible that he didn’t realise what might -have happened. His idea might have been to set -the yacht on fire and give us a scare. He may not -know the properties of air and petrol as an explosive -mixture. Although he only squirted the -petrol on the tarpaulin on the cabin-top, the fumes, -being heavier than the atmosphere, settled inside -the boat.”</p> - -<p>Accompanied by the four Sea Scouts, Mr. Grant -made his way to Carlo Bone’s cottage, a ramshackle -stone structure of two storeys situated -about a hundred yards from the furthermost row -of houses that formed the hamlet of Polkebo. At -the back was a neglected garden of about a quarter -of an acre in extent and enclosed by a low wall of -ashlar masonry. There were two doors to the -cottage, one opening directly upon the street, and -gained by a flight of eight stone steps; the other -led into the garden and was also reached by steps. -The windows were small, heavily barred, and so -high from the ground that it was impossible for -anyone to see in without the aid of a ladder.</p> - -<p>“It wants an hour and a half to sunrise,” remarked -Mr. Grant, after he had consulted the -luminous dial of his wristlet watch. “Possibly -Mr. Bone will return before then. I doubt -whether he has had time to do so already. In any -case, we’ll investigate.”</p> - -<p>Posting Brandon and Heavitree at the front of -the cottage, Mr. Grant followed by Craddock and -Carline, scaled the low wall and crept up to the -back door. The Scoutmaster flashed his torch -upon the latch. A spider had built a web across -the door. The air was warm and saturated with -dew, and glistening particles of moisture hung -from the undisturbed web. In fact, webs -abounded. Almost every tree and shrub was -festooned with them.</p> - -<p>Obviously Blueskin had not re-entered his -cottage by that door. Satisfied on that ground, -Mr. Grant withdrew with his companions. The -garden was, after all, private property. Legally -the would-be victims were trespassing. In addition, -they were laying themselves open to an act -of violence should Carlo Bone return and find -them there. The poacher, according to report, -would not hesitate to use a gun or a knife should -he find himself cornered.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant, however, had no wish to corner the -fellow. For the present he wanted to be in a -position to prove that Blueskin was the perpetrator -of the outrage and a step in that direction -was to be able to make certain that the man was -away from his cottage. If so, on his return he -would be almost sure to bring with him the reek of -petrol, even if he had got rid of the implements -by which he had sprayed the fluid.</p> - -<p>“Now, you fellows,” he said in a low voice, -addressing Craddock and Carline, “I want you -to keep a sharp look-out on the back of the cottage. -Take cover, and keep your eyes and ears on the -alert.”</p> - -<p>“And if he shows up, sir, do we tackle him?” -asked Peter.</p> - -<p>“Rather not; that’s a job for the police. I’ll -look you up occasionally. I’ll see what Brandon -and Heavitree are doing.”</p> - -<p>Before rejoining the Sea Scouts posted in concealment -in the front of the building, Mr. Grant -examined the front door. Here, as in the case of -the back entrance, the presence of an undisturbed -spider’s web gave conclusive proof that Blueskin -had not entered the cottage by that means. Since -he could not do so through the barred windows, -the inference was that he was still away.</p> - -<p>For the rest of the hours of darkness, the Scoutmaster -divided his time between the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> and -the two observation posts. Everything seemed -quiet. No sound came from either within or without -the darkened cottage. If Carlo Bone were to -return, it seemed probable that he would do so -before dawn in order to avoid recognition from -any of the early risers of the hamlet.</p> - -<p>At length grey dawn paled in the north-eastern -sky. The birds began singing, cocks crowed. -The mist over the creek drifted slowly in the faint -air-currents. In one of the cottages smoke began -to issue from the squat stone chimney.</p> - -<p>At sunrise the Scoutmaster withdrew his observers, -replacing Craddock and Heavitree by -Symington and Talbot. Wilson took Carline’s -place, but Craddock asked to be allowed to -remain.</p> - -<p>From the cottages men went forth unto their -work and to their labour. On the rising tide the -fishing boats put out. By five o’clock the whole -place was astir.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant was frankly disappointed. The only -result of the Sea Scouts’ vigil was, in his opinion, -that they had proved that Carlo Bone had not -returned to his cottage.</p> - -<p>“It’s no use waiting any longer, lads,” he said. -“We’ll get breakfast—you must all be ravenous—and -then I’ll see the police.”</p> - -<p>Even as he spoke, the front door of the cottage -opened and Blueskin appeared. He was fully -dressed, even to his cap and leather thigh-boots, -while across one shoulder he carried a painted -canvas sack. Both eyes were badly discoloured, -and the scowling look he gave to the Sea Scouts -added still further to the repulsiveness of his -features. Once he paused as if he were about to -utter a jibe, but thinking better of it, he trudged -stolidly up the lane leading to the high road -between Truro and Falmouth.</p> - -<p>“We’ve been on the wrong tack this time, lads,” -declared the Scoutmaster. “He’s been in his -cottage all the time. Of course, he may have a -confederate in this business: that we’ll have to -find out or get the police to see to. Meanwhile, -breakfast, and then all hands turn in. It’s spoilt -our working day, I’m afraid.”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='44' id='Page_44'></span><h1> CHAPTER IV <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Investigations</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>T</span>he Scoutmaster</span> was perfectly correct in his -surmise. Progress as far as the work on the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was concerned was virtually at a standstill -for that day. There were limits to the Sea -Scouts’ powers of endurance. The loss of a -night’s rest following upon an exciting day was -not to be made up by a few hours’ sleep during -the forenoon.</p> - -<p>There was little rest for Mr. Grant. After -breakfast his first visit was to the police station to -report the case of attempted arson. The inspector -listened with ill-concealed incredulity until somewhat -reluctantly the Scoutmaster mentioned the -name of Carlo Bone.</p> - -<p>“I wish to goodness you were certain that was -the fellow!” exclaimed the inspector. “We’ve -been wanting to lay him by the heels for months -past, but we can never fix him. He’s as slippery -as an eel. You say he assaulted one of your lads -and got knocked down in the process. Knowing -the man, I’ve no doubt but what he will try to -score off you.”</p> - -<p>“Possibly,” agreed Mr. Grant. “We felt so -sure that he was the fellow that we kept watch on -his cottage all night. He didn’t go into the place. -There were indisputable signs to show that neither -of the doors had been open for some hours. At -daybreak, or just after, he emerged from the -cottage and went off.”</p> - -<p>“H’m!” ejaculated the inspector. “On the -face of it, Carlo Bone could easily establish an -alibi. I know the cottage. The windows are as -heavily barred as a prison. Yet, knowing Bone as -I do, it wouldn’t surprise me to—— By the by, -have you missed any gear? No? Well, that’s -rather unfortunate in a way. Had you done so, -we would examine the cottage inside and out on -the strength of a search warrant.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think he has had an accomplice?” -asked the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>The inspector shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think so,” he replied. “At least, not -at Polkebo and district. He’s not popular with -his neighbours, and they’d welcome the news that -he’s doing a stretch. You are quite sure that it -was petrol that was squirted over your yacht? -Did you test the stuff?”</p> - -<p>“If you mean did we set light to it to see -if it would burn—no,” answered Mr. Grant. -“Apart from that the indications were unmistakable.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll send a constable down to keep an eye on -things,” decided the inspector. “I don’t think -you’ll have any trouble when he’s about.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant thanked the police official and set off -back to the boat. He was not at all easy in his -mind. The situation in a nutshell was this: Some -person or persons unknown had been guilty of a -dastardly attempt to injure the lads under his care. -Blueskin might be, and probably was, innocent of -any knowledge of the matter. The miscreant -might be a homicidal lunatic or a person harbouring -an imaginary grudge against the crew of the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster was within fifty yards of Carlo -Bone’s cottage when the toe of his boot kicked -against a metallic object hidden in the long grass -by the side of the path. He stopped and pulled -aside the shoots. There, with one end overhanging -a shallow dry ditch, was a garden syringe. -The brasswork was dull, but not tarnished. The -rim of the jet-nozzle was fairly bright, showing -that at no distant date someone had had to use -considerable force to remove it from the threaded -end of the barrel.</p> - -<p>Cautiously Mr. Grant removed the plunger and -smelt the inside of the barrel. There were no -fumes of petrol, but—significant fact—the leather -washer, which usually is well saturated with oil, -was bone dry. Had the syringe been used for -squirting water the leather would have retained -its dampness.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant’s next step was to go to the “Dog -and Gun,” and ask for Silas Pescold, the landlord. -Silas was a respected man in the little village, and -one who would be likely to identify the syringe.</p> - -<p>He did without hesitation.</p> - -<p>“Sure, zur,” he exclaimed. “Yes, Dick Marner’s. -Many’s the time I’ve borried et of him.”</p> - -<p>“Marner? That’s the man who walks lame, -doesn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, zur; ’e broke ’is thigh come twenty -year agone aboard the old <span class='it'>Sarah</span>. Sin’ then, -seeing as ’e’s no good in the boats, ’e’s been doin’ -odd gardenin’ jobs for the quality hereabouts. -Like as not you’ll find him up-along. ’E lives in -t’end cottage past the quay.”</p> - -<p>The end cottage past the quay! It was in this -direction that the miscreant had made off when -Peter Craddock interrupted his operations.</p> - -<p>Marner was at home. It was one of his bad -days. The easterly wind generally affected his -damaged hip.</p> - -<p>“Is this your property?” asked Mr. Grant, -holding up the syringe for inspection.</p> - -<p>“Sure, ’tes, zur,” assented the old chap without -hesitation. “If you’m wishful tu borrer ut -you’m kindly welcome.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t come to borrow it, Mr. Marner,” -rejoined Mr. Grant. “I’m here to return it to -you. I found it up the lane. Silas Pescold told -me it was yours.”</p> - -<p>The old man puckered up his eye in astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Found ’ut up-along, did ’e, zur?” he exclaimed. -“That be tur’ble queer, seein’ as I -locked ut in the shed las’ night.”</p> - -<p>“At about what time?”</p> - -<p>“Afore it wur dark, zur.”</p> - -<p>“Evidently someone has broken into the shed,” -remarked Mr. Grant. “Have you been there to-day? -Perhaps it would be as well if you did. -I’ll come with you, if I may?”</p> - -<p>The old man led the way up a steeply sloping -garden. In a corner formed by the junction of -two hedges was a tumble-down structure composed -of boats’ planking, weatherboards, corrugated -iron, and tarred felt. The lock was in position, -but it was one of those cheap varieties which could -easily be picked by means of a piece of bent -wire.</p> - -<p>Marner threw open the door. Within were a -number of gardening tools, a pile of old sacks, a -motor bicycle, and two tins of petrol.</p> - -<p>“That’s where I kept un,” declared Marner. -“It be gone, as ye see, zur. Nothin’ else be -touched as far as I can see.”</p> - -<p>“Evidently someone borrowed it and lost it,” -said the Scoutmaster. “That’s a nice motor bike: -you don’t ride it, do you, Mr. Marner?”</p> - -<p>The old man chuckled wheezily.</p> - -<p>“Not wi’ this leg, zur. Yes, tes my boy -Richard’s; same name as mine ’e be called. ’E -wur a Scout same as your lads.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I hope Master Richard isn’t mixed up -in this business,” thought the Scoutmaster; then, -aloud: “He’s not a Scout now, is he?”</p> - -<p>Marner chuckled again.</p> - -<p>“ ’E’s mate aboard th’ tawps’l schooner <span class='it'>Huterp</span> -o’ Fowey,” he announced proudly. “She’s gone -foreign wi’ a cargo o’ clay. Where eggsackly I -can’t remember like. Reckon she’s about due -back come a week or so; an’ if so happen you’m -still hereabouts ye might see ’im.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant gave a sigh of relief. It was with no -slight degree of satisfaction that he realised the -impossibility of Dick Marner, ex-Scout and the -apple of the father’s eye, being implicated in this -unpleasant business.</p> - -<p>The while he was conversing with the old man, -Mr. Grant kept his eyes wide open. There was -nothing of the nature of a clue as far as the shed -was concerned. The floor was of hard trodden -clay. No tell-tale footprints had left their mark. -Both petrol cans, judging by the undisturbed dust -on them, had not been touched since Richard -Marner, junior, had shipped on board the topsail -schooner <span class='it'>Euterpe</span> of Fowey. But obviously the -fellow who had broken into the shed knew his -bearings. He was aware that there was a syringe; -he wanted it, so he went to work to take it without -disturbing anything else.</p> - -<p>“Do you know of any of your neighbours who -would borrow the syringe without asking you if -they might?” enquired the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>“No, zur,” replied Marner. “But why’m you -so askifying? You’m questionin’ me same as if -I wur a pickpocket at Bodmin Fair.”</p> - -<p>It was a perfectly reasonable request. In the -circumstances, Mr. Grant realised that it was only -fair to old Marner to explain the facts that led up -to his visit.</p> - -<p>“An’ you’m come here thinkin’ as ’ow my son -Dick had a-set fire to your boat?” demanded old -Marner angrily.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant hastened to pour uninflammable oil -upon troubled waters. In this he ultimately -succeeded, and, taking leave of the old man, he -returned to the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. So far his investigation -had drawn blank; but, he reflected, his task was -to prevent a repetition of the dastardly attempt. -The detection of the offender might well be left -in the hands of the police.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='51' id='Page_51'></span><h1> CHAPTER V <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Adrift</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>F</span>or</span> the next six or seven days the work of -getting the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> ready for sea proceeded -apace. The final coat of paint had been applied -and was now dry. Sails had been bent; running -rigging overhauled and rove; extra ballast in the -form of iron pigs had been stowed under the floor. -Fresh water and provisions had been brought on -board, and although there remained a considerable -amount of “finishing off” work to be done, -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was in a fit and seaworthy condition to -attempt her voyage up Channel.</p> - -<p>No other disquieting incident had occurred -during the period, while to add to the serenity of -the situation definite information had been received -that Blueskin Bone had shipped on board -a tramp steamer at Falmouth and was now on his -way to Rotterdam.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> mascot had been making -steady progress. After much deliberation the Sea -Scouts had decided to bestow the name of Molly -upon the little animal. She was no longer the -terrified, half-drowned puppy that Peter had -rescued from the dark waters of the creek. Her -coat, carefully combed and brushed, had acquired -a gloss; her ribs were no longer painfully in -evidence. Already she realised that a human hand -could be something else than a means of imparting -pain, although it was some time before she ceased -to cringe in fear of a possible unwarranted thrashing.</p> - -<p>“I wish Molly would be a little bit livelier,” -remarked Peter. “I’ve never seen such a sedate -pup.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you worry, old son,” rejoined Brandon. -“She’s all right. P’raps before long she’ll be too -lively, even for you. How about a collar for her?”</p> - -<p>“Later on,” decided Craddock. “If she had -one now she’d grow out of it in a week or so. -I’ll make one when we’re under way. As it is, -we haven’t a minute to spare.”</p> - -<p>That was a fact. Time was getting on, and -there was still much to be done if the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were -to sail in company with the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>.</p> - -<p>At length the eve of the eventful day arrived. -To-morrow at the hour of ten in the morning the -voyage up Channel was timed to commence, that -hour being fixed to enable both yachts to take -advantage of the first of the east-going tide.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, glistening in her new coat of paint, -looked very different from the half-completed -craft the Sea Scouts had taken over only a short -while ago. She was now a ketch-rigged yacht -with a spacious cockpit and ample accommodation -under her cabin-top. Her original sails had been -altered to form a serviceable and yet moderate -spread of canvas. The only thing wanting was a -motor; but, as Craddock observed, “Drake -hadn’t a motor when he sailed round the world; -so we ought to manage to find our way up Channel -without one.”</p> - -<p>“All the same I wish we had an engine,” said -Carline. “The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> is a whopping lump of a -craft to move in a dead calm.”</p> - -<p>“We may get a motor some day,” added Mr. -Grant. “When we’ve been shipmates with one -the lack of an engine seems a serious matter. We -must cut our coat according to our cloth, you -know. Now, lads, the tide’s making well. We’re -nearly afloat, so get busy.”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was to be taken from Polkebo Creek -that evening and sailed down to a berth off Greenbank -at Falmouth, where the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was lying, in -order that both craft might start together.</p> - -<p>Almost everyone in Polkebo turned out to see -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> start, for with one exception (and he, -it was to be hoped, was far away) the inhabitants -of the hamlet were on excellent terms with the -Aberstour Sea Scouts. There was also much -speculation on the part of the professional seafaring -folk as to how the amateur-altered ex-Service -launch, manned chiefly by lads in their -teens, would be handled.</p> - -<p>Although there was a steady leading wind the -houses and trees blanketed most of it; so without -difficulty canvas was set, sheets overrun, and -all preparation made before the rising tide floated -the yacht off.</p> - -<p>“She’ll do it now, lads,” exclaimed Mr. Grant. -“Head-sheet to wind’ard, then! Cast off for’ard!”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> held only by the stern-warp, swung -slowly on her heel. She was afloat all right.</p> - -<p>“Let go aft!” ordered the Scoutmaster. -“Trim your fore and jib sheets.”</p> - -<p>Almost imperceptibly the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, steady as a -rock, gathered way. The crowd ashore cheered. -The Sea Scouts responded lustily. The gap between -the yacht and the quay widened. The -water began to ripple under the yacht’s forefoot. -She heeled to the strengthening breeze.</p> - -<p>“Take her, Brandon,” said Mr. Grant, relinquishing -the tiller. “She’ll do.”</p> - -<p>Against the still flowing tide the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> made -steady progress. She was “as stiff as a house,” -and showed a decided tendency to carry weather-helm—a -qualification that all craft under sail must -possess if they are to be accounted seaworthy.</p> - -<p>In less than half an hour the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> hove-to -within fifty yards of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>, on which Scoutmaster -Pendennis and his crew of hefty Cornish -Sea Scouts were awaiting their approach.</p> - -<p>“Sorry there are no moorings for you!” hailed -Mr. Pendennis. “Let go your anchor. Tide’s -slackening. She’ll ride head to wind all right.”</p> - -<p>The anchor was dropped, sails stowed, riding -light trimmed ready to be hoisted at sunset. For -the rest of the evening the crews “palled up,” -some of the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> going aboard the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>, -while a part of the latter’s complement came over -to the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>At sunset the Sea Scouts returned to their -respective craft, had supper, and turned in. -Giving a final look round and satisfying himself -that the riding-light was burning clearly, Mr. -Grant followed the example of his crew.</p> - -<p>“No need to turn out before seven,” he -announced. “Get in a good night’s rest while -you’ve the chance. You never know when you’ll -get another when we’re under way.”</p> - -<p>Peter Craddock was the first to awake. A pale -grey light was filtering through the skylight. The -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was rolling slightly, and the dinghy had -just commenced to bump alongside.</p> - -<p>“Turn of the tide, I expect,” thought the lad -drowsily. “It can’t be much more than five -o’clock. Too soon to turn out.”</p> - -<p>Casually he glanced at his watch; looked again -and then held it to his ear. It was ticking merrily. -The hands pointed to twenty minutes past seven. -By that time it ought to be broad daylight. It -wasn’t.</p> - -<p>Somewhat mystified, Peter rolled out of his -bunk and went on deck. To his surprise a thick -fog enveloped everything. From the companion -ladder it was only just possible to discern the -lower part of the mizzen-mast looking grotesquely -distorted in the watery haze. An uncanny silence -prevailed. No sounds came from the near-by -town. Then the distant wail of a syren came -through the mist.</p> - -<p>According to the state of the tide, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -should be riding to the last of the ebb. How came -it then that the dinghy, instead of straining at her -painter, was rubbing alongside the yacht’s quarter?</p> - -<p>“Something wrong,” muttered Peter, and -making his way for’ard along the damp and -clammy waterway, he gained the bows. Then he -felt the cable. The chain came up easily, and no -wonder; for instead of there being ten fathoms -of it, terminating in a seventy-pound anchor, only -a dozen links or so were trailing uselessly through -the hawse-pipe.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was adrift in a thick sea fog, and -at the mercy of the swirling tide.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='57' id='Page_57'></span><h1> CHAPTER VI <br/> <span class='sub-head'>In the Fog</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“T</span>urn</span> out, you fellows!” shouted Craddock. -“All hands on deck! We’ve parted -our cable, and there’s a heavy fog on.”</p> - -<p>The rest of the crew tumbled out of their bunks -and hammocks and hurried into their clothes. -They accepted Peter’s statement without any -hesitation, for it was one of the few hard-and-fast -rules on board that on no account was a false -alarm to be knowingly raised. Skylarking in its -proper place was encouraged and harmless practical -joking permitted; but each Sea Scout had -been impressed with the seriousness of the harm -that might occur by raising the nautical equivalent -to the shout of “ ’Ware Wolf!” when there was -not one.</p> - -<p>In various stages of “undress uniform,” Scoutmaster -and Sea Scouts gained the deck. The lads -remained silent, waiting for Mr. Grant’s orders. -He was frankly puzzled. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had been -anchored surrounded by yachts and boats in the -crowded anchorage of Greenbank. It seemed -incredible that she should have drifted any distance -without fouling some of the craft in the -tideway.</p> - -<p>Craddock had reported that the cable had -parted. Mr. Grant hoped that such was not the -case. He had known of anchors being dropped -with one of the flukes caught in the bobstay and -with only the bight of the chain resting on the -bottom. He rather wished such was the case -now.</p> - -<p>“Get the fog-horn, Wilson,” he ordered. -“Two blasts about every minute, please. And, -Craddock, you might heave the lead. The others -prepare to make sail.”</p> - -<p>Groping his way for’ard, for the fog was so -thick that even the still burning riding-lamp ten -feet above the deck was invisible, Mr. Grant -grasped the cable and hauled in the slack. One -look was sufficient. The last of the remaining -links had been deliberately cut through with a -hack-saw. The rest of the chain, together with -the anchor, was lying on the bed of Falmouth -Harbour—miles away, probably.</p> - -<p>It was no time for feelings of resentment and -anger. The Scoutmaster came aft.</p> - -<p>“What water have we?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No bottom, sir,” reported Peter.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant gave an involuntary gasp of astonishment. -The lead-line, 25 fathoms, or 150 feet, in -length, was insufficient to touch the bed of the sea.</p> - -<p>“Bend another line to it,” he continued.</p> - -<p>“I’m doing it already, sir,” announced Craddock.</p> - -<p>“Good! . . . Now, how much?”</p> - -<p>“Another four fathoms, sir,” reported the -leadsman.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster was on the point of going -below, when Wilson stopped him.</p> - -<p>“Why are we to give two blasts, sir?” he enquired. -“Oughtn’t we to sound a bell or something -like that? We’re supposed to be at anchor.”</p> - -<p>Even in his worried state of mind, Mr. Grant -did not hesitate to reply.</p> - -<p>“It puzzled me what signal to make at first,” -he answered. “Although we were anchored—that -is to say, I thought we were—the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had -obviously moved. In that case we are under way, -and although we haven’t yet made sail, what wind -there is is on our port beam. Consequently it is -assumed that we are on the port tack; therefore, -two blasts.”</p> - -<p>“Where are we, sir?” asked Carline.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I want to find out,” replied Mr. -Grant. “I’m going below to look at the chart.”</p> - -<p>Within the saloon the light was so dim that the -lamp had to be lighted before it was possible to -read the minute figures on the chart. Very soon -the Scoutmaster’s worst fears were confirmed. -Nowhere within Falmouth Harbour is a depth of -twenty-nine fathoms to be obtained, even at the -top of high-water springs. Obviously, then, the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had drifted with the tide right out of the -harbour without colliding with any other craft and -fortunately clearing the dangerous Black Rock that -lies in the mouth of the harbour and approximately -midway between the projecting arms of Pendennis -and St. Anthony. According to the soundings, the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was somewhere on a line extending from -the dreaded Manacles to the Dodman, and might -be anywhere between those points, a distance of -approximately fifteen sea-miles.</p> - -<p>It was not an envious position for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -to be in. There was no wind, but a very heavy -fog. She might or might not be in the way of -vessels making for or leaving Falmouth Harbour. -If she drifted northwards she would sooner or -later pile herself up upon the iron-bound coast. -The same condition would apply if she drifted -west’ard. Provided a breeze sprung up, the best -course was to make for the open Channel, but -even then there was a risk of being run down in -the busy steamer track that passed a few miles to -the south’ard of the Lizard. To attempt to grope -their way back to Falmouth, starting from an -absolutely unknown position, was out of the -question.</p> - -<p>Effectually concealing his anxiety, Mr. Grant -returned on deck. By this time the Sea Scouts, -under Patrol Leader Brandon’s direction, had set -all plain sail. Fortunately Frank had remembered -the invisible riding-light on the forestay.</p> - -<p>In the flat calm, although there was a light -swell on, the canvas hung idly. From the cockpit -only a part of the mainsail as far as the upper line -of reef-points and a small portion of the mizzen -were visible. The rest was swallowed up in the -fog.</p> - -<p>“This is the worst fog we’ve struck,” remarked -Craddock, as he coiled up the lead-line for another -cast.</p> - -<p>“It is,” agreed the Scoutmaster. “Luckily -we’ve plenty of sea-room.”</p> - -<p>“Plenty of sea-room, sir?” echoed Peter. -“Where are we?”</p> - -<p>“That, exactly, I don’t know,” confessed Mr. -Grant frankly. “What I do know is that we’ve -drifted right out of Falmouth Harbour and are in -the English Channel. As a rule fogs don’t last -very long at this time of year. When the sun is -well up there’ll be a breeze and the mist will -disperse. Meanwhile we must take things as we -find them and be thankful they are no worse.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder what the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> is doing,” remarked -Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Still on her moorings, I expect,” hazarded -Heavitree. “They’ll think we’ve given them the -slip.”</p> - -<p>“If the fog’s anything like it is here they won’t -know we’ve gone,” rejoined the Patrol Leader. -“Unless they hail us,” he added as an afterthought. -“Wonder why the cable parted? We -tested it carefully when we stowed it aboard the -first time.”</p> - -<p>“This is the reason,” announced Mr. Grant, -producing the cut link from his pocket. “Someone -has been monkeying about with the chain. -It has been deliberately cut through with a hack-saw. -When and by whom remains a question.”</p> - -<p>“Blueskin?” enquired Symington and Talbot -simultaneously.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, but unlikely,” replied the Scoutmaster. -“I’m basing my idea upon the assumption -that Carlo Bone has had a sea training. Some -miscreant, probably the fellow who squirted petrol -over the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, has an imaginary grievance -against us. He’s been trying to destroy the yacht -by the most underhanded methods imaginable. -Failing to set her on fire, he cut through this link, -knowing that it would still bear any ordinary -strain, but not a heavy one. He was counting -upon the cable parting while we were riding at -anchor in some harbour during a stiff gale. Now, -a seaman wouldn’t cut a link in that fashion—with -the cut away from the yacht’s bows. He would -saw through the other end of the link so that when -it did part it would go with the outboard portion -of the cable, and thus cover up all trace of his -underhand work.”</p> - -<p>“But it might have been Blueskin,” remarked -Wilson.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it might,” agreed Mr. Grant, “but -having misjudged him once I don’t feel justified -in laying the blame upon him. Not that we are -likely to discover the culprit. Now I think we -might see about a somewhat belated breakfast.”</p> - -<p>While Talbot and Wilson, “the cooks of the -day,” went below to prepare the meal, the others -set about various tasks on deck. Craddock continued -to heave the lead at about five minutes’ -intervals, the soundings remaining fairly regular. -Carline took over the manipulation of the fog-horn, -standing by the now useless tiller in case a -puff of wind should bear down through the -barrier of fog.</p> - -<p>Brandon and Heavitree assisted the Scoutmaster -to bend the cable to the kedge. Fortunately -there still remained between fifteen and -twenty fathoms of the former, but in the absence -of a long link there was no means of shackling it -direct to the kedge—a small anchor of about -twenty-five pounds in weight. Consequently the -chain had to be made fast to the ring in the kedge -by a “fisherman’s bend,” the end being stopped -with wire to guard against any possibility of the -knot slipping.</p> - -<p>“Brekker nearly ready?” enquired Brandon, -calling through the open skylight.</p> - -<p>“It is,” replied Talbot, “but you won’t get -any till you’ve cleared up below.”</p> - -<p>“By Jove!” exclaimed the Patrol Leader, “I’d -forgotten that! Come on, lads; let’s square up -and make all ship-shape below.”</p> - -<p>The saloon was in a bit of an untidy state. The -Sea Scouts on their hurried exit for the deck had -tumbled out of bunks and hammocks, leaving the -former littered with blankets and the latter swaying -to and fro from the deck-beams. The bedding -was passed out, shaken, and folded; the hammocks -unshipped and stowed in their accustomed -places when not in use. Quickly the disordered -saloon assumed a semblance of tidiness.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Molly?” enquired Brandon.</p> - -<p>No one knew. She had been last seen asleep in -a box under Craddock’s bunk.</p> - -<p>All hands below joined in the search. They -called the pup by name, hunted high and low, but -without success.</p> - -<p>“S’pose she wasn’t in one of the blankets when -we shook them overboard?” suggested Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“Now you mention it, I think I did hear a sort -of splash,” said Symington. “It was too thick -to see.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s hope not,” continued Heavitree. “She’s -not big enough to climb the companion ladder.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, lads?” enquired Mr. Grant, -entering the cabin and removing his dripping cap.</p> - -<p>“We’ve lost Molly, sir,” announced Brandon -dolefully.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster sat down on one of the -settees. As he did so a growl of protest came -from the neighbourhood of his back. Turning, -he raised one of the side-cushions. There, in a -small recess formed between the two cushions, -was the missing pup together with about nine-tenths -of a shoe.</p> - -<p>“Peter, old man!” sang out the Patrol Leader, -“Molly’s been lost. We’ve found her making a -meal of your shoe. Jolly careless of you to leave -your gear all over the place.”</p> - -<p>Craddock, from whom the news of his special -pet’s disappearance had been hitherto kept, -temporarily abandoned his sounding operations -and came below.</p> - -<p>“Naughty pup!” he said reprovingly.</p> - -<p>Molly, no wise daunted, looked fearlessly up -into her master’s face and struggled to give him -a lick of devotion and affection.</p> - -<p>“She wouldn’t be so brave a week ago,” remarked -Brandon. “Don’t hit her, Peter.”</p> - -<p>“No fear,” replied his chum. Then he critically -examined the damaged footgear.</p> - -<p>“Strikes me, old son, you’ve made a slight -mistake,” he continued, addressing Brandon. -“It’s not my shoe; it’s yours.”</p> - -<p>The others roared at the Patrol Leader’s discomfiture, -but Brandon took it in good part.</p> - -<p>“That shows Molly’s sense of discrimination,” -he retorted, taking the shoe from Peter’s hand. -“It’s one of my second best. Where’s the other -one, I wonder?”</p> - -<p>He searched and discovered it in his kit-bag, -together with one of his best shore-going pair. A -further hunt failed to find the other. Molly, with -her sense of discrimination, had taken two odd -ones from the Patrol Leader’s kit-bag, and of -these one had been thrown overboard by Symington -when he had shaken out his blankets. To -make matters worse the odd shoes were both lefts.</p> - -<p>Breakfast was dispatched in grand style. The -Sea Scouts were in high spirits. The fact that -they were surrounded by fog hardly troubled -them. They were afloat in one of the soundest -craft imaginable for her size, and, what was more, -they were bound for the Jamboree. If necessary -they had sufficient provisions and fresh water for -a week.</p> - -<p>Nor was Mr. Grant perturbed. Now that he -realised the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had plenty of sea-room, he had -little to worry about. On a still day such as this, -sounds could be heard for quite a long distance, -and since the continual roar of the Channel swell -against the iron-bound coast was inaudible he -knew that any danger of the yacht being cast -ashore by the strong and intricate currents of the -district was a remote one.</p> - -<p>Noon came, bringing with it no breeze to disperse -the dense pall of mist. At times the fog -lifted sufficiently to enable the bowsprit-end to be -seen; at others it was a matter of difficulty to -distinguish objects six feet away.</p> - -<p>The while the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was underlying in the -game of “chasing her own tail.” Absolutely -drifting in a dead calm, she was powerless to -answer to her helm. Her bows swung round very -slowly through every point of the compass and -continued to do so. Yet the while, judging by -the drag of the lead-line when allowed to remain -in the bottom, she was being swept in an easterly -direction by the two-knot tide. Well away to the -south’ard came an almost continual braying of -many sirens. The steamer track was as yet a safe -distance off.</p> - -<p>By two in the afternoon the crew began to find -time hang heavily on their hands. The reaction -of having nothing definite to do following upon -days of strenuous activity from morn to night was -telling. They could see nothing beyond the -limits of their floating home, and hardly that. -There was plenty to be done by way of “finishing -off” various jobs below, but the light was too dim -to enable anything in that line to be attempted. -They coiled down or “flemished” every rope on -deck, spun yarns, tried to teach their overfed and -decidedly sleepy mascot various tricks—all without -success.</p> - -<p>“Wish the fog would lift,” remarked Carline.</p> - -<p>“And a breeze spring up,” added Heavitree, -looking wistfully at the idle canvas.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster, too, was puzzled, not only -by the persistency of the fog, but by the absence -of sound from any of the shore signal stations. In -vain he kept listening for the fog signals from the -Lizard. That dangerous headland might be only -a few miles away and yet the sound be inaudible. -Fog, he knew, plays strange tricks with sound. -Frequently there are zones of silence over which -sounds leap to be distinctly audible at a long distance -beyond the source of emission. All he knew -concerning the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> position was that she was -drifting slowly in a south-easterly direction, but -that on the turn of the Channel tide—which by -no means coincided with the time of high and low -water on the shore—the yacht would be swept in -the reverse direction and possibly be driven -aground on the dangerous coast between the -Lizard and the Manacles.</p> - -<p>No wonder he wished fervently for the fog to -lift.</p> - -<p>The hours passed slowly. It was not until -nearly eight o’clock that a faint breeze ruffled the -water and the wall of vapour began to disperse.</p> - -<p>“Hurrah! a breeze!” exclaimed Brandon, as -the hitherto idly-playing main boom swung out -and tugged gently at the mainsheet.</p> - -<p>“What course, sir?” asked the Patrol Leader, -as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> gathered way.</p> - -<p>“Sou’-sou’-east,” replied Mr. Grant. “It’ll -mean a night afloat, lads.”</p> - -<p>“Good egg!” ejaculated Heavitree.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster wasn’t so sure about it. -Possibly there would be half a gale of wind when -the fog did disperse; and until it did the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -must have plenty of sea-room. To attempt to -make a strange harbour in a mist and with only -a few remaining hours of daylight was asking for -trouble.</p> - -<p>The breeze held; but the mist, although -diminishing in density, continued to hang about -in irregular patches.</p> - -<p>“Keep your eyes skinned, lads!” continued -Mr. Grant. “We ought to be seeing land on our -port quarter.”</p> - -<p>“Sail ahead!” sang out Craddock.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='70' id='Page_70'></span><h1> CHAPTER VII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Derelict</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“D</span>own</span> helm!” ordered Brandon, in his -capacity of officer of the starboard watch. -“At that! Keep her so!”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, answering readily to a slight -pressure on the tiller, changed her course to bring -the other craft on her port bow.</p> - -<p>“If we pass within hailing distance they might -be able to give us our position,” remarked the -Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>Quickly the stranger loomed up in the dispersing -mist, for by this time visibility extended to nearly -a quarter of a mile. She turned out to be a -schooner. Her topsails were furled, but her fore -and aft canvas was set, the head-sails being to -wind’ard. Under these conditions she was “hove-to” -with a decided list to port.</p> - -<p>As a precautionary measure the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> announced -her approach by three blasts of her fog-horn, -for the wind was well abaft the beam. No -reply came from the schooner.</p> - -<p>“Careless look-out, what?” observed Peter.</p> - -<p>“I fancy there’s something amiss,” replied -Brandon. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone on -board. What shall we do, sir?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant, thus appealed to, shook his -head.</p> - -<p>“You’re standing your trick, Brandon,” he replied. -“Officially I’m not on duty. Use your -own discretion.”</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader warmed at the implied -compliment. He knew the Scoutmaster’s views. -As far as prudence dictated, Mr. Grant left the -seamanship entirely to his youthful crew. It was -the best way to enable them to gain confidence in -themselves. He was merely a sort of referee, -ready to assist by advice and deed should the Sea -Scouts commit any serious error. Not that they -often did. He had great confidence in the skill -and resourcefulness of his crew.</p> - -<p>“Stand by to go about!” ordered Brandon. -“We’ll run under her lee and see if anything is -wrong with her.”</p> - -<p>Full and bye, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> passed a full hundred -yards to lee’ard of the schooner, and then the -mystery was in part solved. The vessel had been -in collision. Most of her counter had been carried -away, the damage extending almost, if not quite, -to the water line. She was well down by the stern—possibly -not far short of foundering. There was -no sign of a boat. Apparently the crew had abandoned -her and had either made for the shore or -else had been picked up by the craft that had run -the schooner down. Owing to the severe damage -to the stern, her name and port of registry were -not to be seen, but by the yellow letters on her -bow the derelict proclaimed herself to be the -<span class='it'>Euterpe</span>.</p> - -<p>“That name seems familiar,” thought Mr. -Grant. “Where have I heard that? I remember. -Old Richard Marner told me his son was on her—<span class='it'>Huterp</span>, -he pronounced the name.”</p> - -<p>“Lee-o!” ordered Brandon. “Head sheets -to wind’ard! Gather in your mainsheet -roundly!”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> went about slowly yet unhesitatingly -and hove-to on the starboard tack within fifty -yards of the <span class='it'>Euterpe’s</span> starboard quarter.</p> - -<p>“I’ll send the dinghy off to her, sir,” said the -Patrol Leader. “There might be someone on -board.”</p> - -<p>“Do so,” agreed Mr. Grant. “I’ll take charge -of the dinghy. We must be very careful how we -go alongside. She won’t last very much longer, -I fancy.”</p> - -<p>The boat was hauled up alongside the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. -Into her jumped the Scoutmaster and Craddock -and Heavitree.</p> - -<p>A few strokes brought the dinghy to the abandoned -schooner. She was so low aft that it was -quite an easy matter to board her by the main -chains. The Scoutmaster did so, bidding the two -lads hang on, but to be ready to push off should -the vessel show a tendency to hasten her departure -to Davy Jones’ locker.</p> - -<p>Almost as soon as he gained the deck, Mr. Grant -caught sight of a black cat sitting close to the -companion leading to the cabin.</p> - -<p>“There’s a cat aboard, lads!” he announced, -going to the rail and addressing the crew of the -dinghy. “I’ll hand it down to you.”</p> - -<p>“At this rate we’ll have a regular menagerie -on the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> before we reach Chichester -Harbour,” remarked Peter to his companion. -“Hope the animal will make friends with -Molly.”</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster walked slowly towards the cat, -calling “Puss, puss!” in a coaxing tone. The -animal, however, showed no enthusiasm at the -prospect of being rescued. In fact, it evinced a -decided reluctance to do so; and, waiting until -Mr. Grant was within a couple of yards or so, it -turned and bolted down the ladder.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant followed. It was a risky business -going below, with the schooner in danger of -making a sudden plunge.</p> - -<p>At the foot of the companion ladder was a -small lobby with two doors. The starboard -door was shut; the other one ajar. Obviously -the cat had taken refuge in the cabin on the port -side.</p> - -<p>Before pursuing the animal, the Scoutmaster -opened the door of the starboard or captain’s cabin. -Everything was in order. The skipper must have -been on deck when the collision occurred and had -not waited to save his personal belongings before -taking to the boat.</p> - -<p>Closing the door, Mr. Grant stepped into the -other cabin. At the after end pale daylight -showed through the jagged gap in the counter. -Water gurgled sullenly under the floor, a portion -of which had been violently up-heaved by -the compact, causing the swing table to be -capsized together with a quantity of splintered -woodwork.</p> - -<p>“Puss! puss!” he called again. “Bother the -animal! Where’s it got to?”</p> - -<p>Suddenly the Scoutmaster caught sight of a -man’s legs protruding from the pile of debris. -The occupant of the cabin had been caught and -pinned down—crushed more than likely—by the -sudden and unexpected blow of the colliding -vessel’s bows.</p> - -<p>A few minutes’ desperate work enabled Mr. -Grant to remove most of the tightly wedged woodwork -and disentangle the motionless form of the -luckless man. Then, without waiting to see -whether he were alive or dead, the Scoutmaster -dragged him out of the cabin, up the steep and -narrow ladder, and across the deck.</p> - -<p>“Stand by, Peter!” he exclaimed breathlessly, -and passing a bowline round the unconscious -form, he unceremoniously lowered him into the -dinghy.</p> - -<p>“I’ll have a look into the forepeak in case -there’s anyone else!” he announced.</p> - -<p>“Where’s the cat, sir?” shouted Craddock, -after the retreating form of his Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>The question was answered by the animal itself. -Springing on the bulwarks, the cat leapt fearlessly -into the boat and proceeded to curl itself upon -the chest of the motionless figure in the stern-sheets.</p> - -<p>Presently Mr. Grant returned.</p> - -<p>“No one else is aboard,” he reported. “Hello! -You’ve got the cat, I see!”</p> - -<p>Cautiously he lowered himself into the dinghy -and crouched in the bows. There was no room -aft.</p> - -<p>“Push off, and give way, lads!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>By this time the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had forged ahead and -had increased her distance to about a cable’s -length. The dinghy had not covered more than -two-thirds of the distance when the stricken -<span class='it'>Euterpe</span> disappeared beneath the surface.</p> - -<p>She went with very little fuss. There was a -slight explosion of compressed air, followed by a -swirling movement of the water. There appeared -to be very little suction and hardly any commotion -in the form of breaking waves; but—and Mr. -Grant gave an inward prayer of thanks—the -schooner had heeled to starboard as she disappeared. -Had the dinghy been close alongside -she would have been crushed by the vessel’s mainmast -or else entangled in the still set canvas as the -schooner capsized.</p> - -<p>The rowers rested on their oars and watched -the vessel’s disappearance with awestruck faces.</p> - -<p>“That was a close shave for us,” said Heavitree, -breaking the silence.</p> - -<p>“It was,” agreed Mr. Grant. “Give way; -another dozen strokes will do the trick.”</p> - -<p>The dinghy ranged up alongside the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. -Craddock and Heavitree held on while the Scoutmaster -handed the heavy burden of the motionless -man to the ready arms of Brandon and his companions.</p> - -<p>The dinghy was made fast by the painter, but -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was still kept hove-to while the crew -attended to the rescued man.</p> - -<p>“He’s still alive,” declared Mr. Grant. “That’s -what stunned him.”</p> - -<p>He pointed to a nasty gash in the man’s temple -from which the blood was flowing slowly. In fact, -it had almost ceased to do so, indicating that the -injury had been done at least two hours ago. In -addition, his right foot was badly nipped, with a -superficial but nasty graze extending the whole -length of the shin-bone.</p> - -<p>“No fracture,” pronounced Mr. Grant after a -careful examination of the limbs. “First aid -dressings, please, Brandon. We’ll leave him in -the cockpit till he recovers consciousness, but keep -his body and limbs warm with blankets. He’d -better have my bunk to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Why, your hand’s bleeding, sir,” exclaimed -Carline.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster glanced at his right hand. -There was a small scratch extending from the -base of the middle finger almost to the centre of -the palm.</p> - -<p>“Nothing much,” he remarked. “I expect I -caught the business end of a piece of splintered -wood. I didn’t even feel it. . . . Get way on her, -Peter! Same course, please; we can’t do better -than that.”</p> - -<p>Presently, judging by sounds emanating from -the saloon, Molly and the cat were “having a few -words.” The pup was barking shrilly, while the -other animal, with arched back, was replying in no -uncertain voice.</p> - -<p>“Let them alone, and they’ll make friends,” -remarked Peter to Talbot, who had expressed his -intention of going below and separating the -“menagerie.” “The more you jolly well interfere -the worse they’ll be—sort of showing off.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder if the sea superstition will hold good -in our case,” asked Carline. “They say a black -cat on board a ship always brings a gale of -wind.”</p> - -<p>Craddock glanced astern. Twilight was stealing -over the misty sea. Through the gathering -gloom came a dismal whine—the sound that often -heralds the approach of a squall.</p> - -<p>“We haven’t long to wait for it, lads!” he -exclaimed, making a spring for the cleated mainsheet. -“It’s here now!”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='79' id='Page_79'></span><h1> CHAPTER VIII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Man they Rescued</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>T</span>he</span> <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was in an unfavourable position -to withstand the first of the squall. She -was running almost dead before the present breeze. -Should the blast come from even a slightly -different direction there was the great risk of an -involuntary gybe. The main and mizzen booms -would swing over with terrific force and either -carry away the runners or else spring one or both -masts.</p> - -<p>Fortunately, Craddock kept his head. Shouting -to Talbot to ease the head-sheets, he put the helm -down gently.</p> - -<p>The squall came. In spite of the canvas shaking -as the wind “spilled” it, the ketch heeled till her -lee rail was awash; then, recovering, she leapt -forward like a racehorse as Peter cautiously took -a strain on the mainsheet.</p> - -<p>At a warning shout, Mr. Grant hurried up from -below, saw what Craddock had done, and nodded -approval.</p> - -<p>“She’s as stiff as a house,” he exclaimed reassuringly. -“All the same, we’ll have the mizzen -sail off of her while it’s still light . . . and the big -jib as well. Bear a hand, Brandon, to get our -patient below. He may get knocked about if he -remains here.”</p> - -<p>The injured man was showing signs of returning -consciousness. He moaned as he was being -lifted, opened his eyes, and gazed blankly into the -Scoutmaster’s face.</p> - -<p>“You’re all right,” said Mr. Grant consolingly.</p> - -<p>The patient closed his eyes and gave no further -sign of movement. With difficulty, owing to the -erratic motion of the yacht, they carried him down -the narrow companion way and into the Scoutmaster’s -cabin.</p> - -<p>While this was being done Craddock put the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> into the wind and hove-to, while canvas -was being reduced. Stowing and furling the -mizzen sail was accomplished with little difficulty; -but the task of taking in the No. 1 jib and substituting -the No. 3 took some doing. The yacht -pitched so violently in the rapidly rising sea that -Heavitree and Symington, on whom this task -devolved, were frequently waist-deep in water as -they knelt on the fore-deck and struggled with -out-haul and jib-halliards and sought to muzzle -the fiercely flapping canvas.</p> - -<p>At last the business of reducing sail was accomplished, -and the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> put on her former course. -With whole mainsail, staysail, and baby-jib she -made splendid weather of it. In fact, she could -have stood more canvas; but in view of night -approaching it was prudent to keep her well under -control, especially as the now hard wind might -increase in force.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the side-lights had been placed in -position. Both had been tested during the process -of fitting out, but now for some unaccountable -reason the starboard lamp refused to keep alight.</p> - -<p>“This is no light matter on a dark night,” said -Heavitree. “No joke intended, Peter! Any good -trying a handkerchief round the ventilation holes?”</p> - -<p>“Might do it,” replied Craddock. “It seems -as if the thing isn’t getting enough air as it is. -However, see what you can do.”</p> - -<p>Cautiously making his way for’ard, Heavitree -grasped the shrouds with one hand and with the -other removed the lamp from the screen. He had -to take it into the saloon to relight it, and at the -same time he wound his handkerchief loosely -round the lower part of the lamp. Almost as soon -as he regained the cockpit the light went out.</p> - -<p>“You’re whacked, old son!” exclaimed Craddock.</p> - -<p>“Am I—you see!” retorted Heavitree as he -went below again with the extinguished lamp.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes he returned with the green -light gleaming exceptionally brightly. Curiously -Peter watched his chum go for’ard, expecting every -second to see the light vanish. It didn’t.</p> - -<p>Heavitree refixed the lamp and came aft. It -gave no further trouble. The resourceful Sea -Scout had removed the oil reservoir and had substituted -his small electric flash lamp.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was now maintaining quite a good -speed. Peter took it to be at least eight knots, but -perhaps like most amateurs he was apt to overestimate -the vessel’s rate. In spite of the curling, -crested waves, she came through with hardly any -water on her decks, and although at times the -following seas appeared high and menacing, she -rode them in a manner that gave everyone the -greatest confidence in her seagoing qualities.</p> - -<p>“Light on the port bow, sir!” reported -Wilson.</p> - -<p>“Your eyes are sharper than mine, then,” rejoined -the Scoutmaster, after a prolonged look in -the direction indicated.</p> - -<p>“There it is again, sir,” declared the lad. -“Two quick flashes!”</p> - -<p>“I see them, too,” added Talbot.</p> - -<p>“So do I,” agreed Mr. Grant. “Well, now -we know where we are, more or less. That’s the -Eddystone.”</p> - -<p>He took a rough compass bearing and went -below to apply the reading to the chart. The -result rather surprised him. According to the -calculation, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> ought to have been farther -to the south’ard. Either there was considerable -deviation of the compass, or else the yacht had -been carried northwards by a tidal current. Leeway -did not enter into the problem, as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -had been running free—except for two brief -intervals—from the time she picked up the -breeze.</p> - -<p>It was something to be able to pick up the -Eddystone light, but the knowledge alone could -not determine the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> position. A second -bearing cutting the first as near as possible at right -angles would fix that.</p> - -<p>By the aid of his night glasses, the Scoutmaster -swept the horizon away to the nor’ard, -hoping to pick up St. Catherine’s light at the -entrance to Fowey Harbour. But the night was -still hazy, and the light was invisible.</p> - -<p>A tramp steamer passed at about a cable’s -length to port. The moon emerging from a bank -of scudding clouds showed her plunging heavily -into the head seas. Frequently showers of -glistening spray completely hid her bows and flew -high over her bridge. Yet the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, flying -before the wind, was making easy weather of it.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant was now confronted with a difficult -problem: whether to carry on or to bear up and -run for shelter into Plymouth Sound. On first -thoughts he favoured the latter alternative. With -an injured man on board, and having several -hours before dawn to make for shelter, this seemed -the obvious thing to do. Then he considered the -difficulties. He had never been into Plymouth -before. He was a stranger to the intricate currents -inside the breakwater. The Sound and Hamoaze -were generally crowded with shipping. The -numerous navigation and riding-lamps were apt -to be particularly perplexing to a stranger, and -there was no small risk of disaster should an error -of judgment occur.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was proving -herself to be a capital sea-boat. Better then to -hold on, keeping plenty of sea-room, and gain the -sheltered waters of Start Bay at daybreak.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant chose the latter alternative and stuck -to it. Indecision he held to be worse than incompetence. -A person in charge of a vessel and unable -to make up his mind was a menace to his crew; -an incompetent skipper, although a despicable -character, could be superseded in a critical -situation by a better man.</p> - -<p>Keeping Craddock and Heavitree on deck, the -Scoutmaster took the helm and told the rest of -the crew to turn in. The two hefty Sea Scouts -were sufficient to assist him in the management of -the yacht in a stiff blow at night. The others -would only be in the way. In addition they would -be as limp as rags in the morning.</p> - -<p>At 1 a.m. the Eddystone was abeam at a distance -of about two miles. It was still too hazy to -pick up the powerful Start light, and there was no -object in “cracking on” and arriving off that -dangerous headland before dawn.</p> - -<p>Accordingly a couple of reefs were taken in the -mainsail, and the staysail was lowered and -“bonneted” to the bowsprit. Even then the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> maintained a fair speed and rode the waves -like a cork, with the dinghy’s bows high in the air -as she strained at the end of a double length of -stout 50-feet rope.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t this top-hole, sir?” exclaimed Peter -enthusiastically. “I’d rather be in the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -than in that tramp which passed us some time -ago.”</p> - -<p>Before the Scoutmaster could offer any remark -Brandon came out of the cabin.</p> - -<p>“The man has come to,” he announced oracularly.</p> - -<p>“How does he feel? Did he say?” asked Mr. -Grant.</p> - -<p>“Said he was thirsty, sir.”</p> - -<p>Telling Craddock to take the helm, Mr. Grant -went below.</p> - -<p>He found the rescued man quite rational in -spite of the serious injury to his head. Reiterating -the fact that he was thirsty, he continued by asking -where he was.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster explained.</p> - -<p>“You’re quite safe,” he continued. “But I’m -afraid you’ll have to put up with the limited -accommodation on board until we can put you -ashore. I’ll give you something to drink; after -that you must try all you can to get to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“It du seem queer loike tu wake up an’ find -myself here,” said the man, as he watched the -preparation of the beverage. “Last I remember -wur I wur sittin’ in——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry about that now,” interrupted -Mr. Grant. “After you’ve slept a few hours it -will be interesting to hear your story. What’s -your name, by the by?”</p> - -<p>“Marner—Dick Marner,” was the not altogether -unexpected reply.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='87' id='Page_87'></span><h1> CHAPTER IX <br/> <span class='sub-head'>What Marner Revealed</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“L</span>ight</span> on our port bow, sir!” reported -Craddock.</p> - -<p>“How far off?” asked Mr. Grant, through the -open skylight.</p> - -<p>“Miles, sir,” replied Peter. “Another lighthouse, -I fancy.”</p> - -<p>“Good! I’ll be on deck in a minute,” rejoined -the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>Having reassured himself that Marner was comfortable -and almost on the point of falling asleep, -Mr. Grant left the cabin and entered the saloon. -Here he paused and held his hand close to the -swinging lamp.</p> - -<p>“H’m!” he remarked in an undertone, as he -examined the somewhat jagged cut. “It’s a case -of the cobbler being the worst shod, I suppose. -I’m always impressing upon the boys the absolute -necessity of guarding against blood-poisoning, and -in my case it’s precept without practice. Better -late than never: I’ll smother the gash with -iodine.”</p> - -<p>He opened the medicine-chest, found and uncorked -the iodine bottle.</p> - -<p>“Finger’s throbbing already, I fancy,” he continued.</p> - -<p>“How’s your hand, sir?” asked Brandon. -“Let me bind it up for you.”</p> - -<p>“Thought you were sound asleep, Frank,” -remarked the Scoutmaster. “Thanks awfully, -if you will.”</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader slipped out of his bunk and, -taking the bottle, poured a few drops into the -jagged wound. The sting of the iodine made -Mr. Grant wince.</p> - -<p>“That ought to do the trick, sir,” continued -Brandon. “I’ll put a bandage round your hand. -I wouldn’t use it if I were you; but there, you -know all about that sort of thing, sir.”</p> - -<p>“I’m supposed to,” admitted the Scoutmaster. -“Unfortunately, when it comes to a personal -matter one is apt to let such things slide. That’s -quite comfortable. Now I’ll see what the watch -on deck are doing.”</p> - -<p>“Do you want me, sir?” asked Brandon. “I’ll -turn out, if you like. I’d be only too pleased -to.”</p> - -<p>“No need,” replied Mr. Grant. “Sleep while -you can. I may want you when we enter harbour, -but that may be hours yet.”</p> - -<p>Going on deck, Mr. Grant found that the light -Peter had reported was two points on the port -bow. By the nature of the flashes—one every -second—he recognised it as The Start.</p> - -<p>“We’re timing things very nicely,” he observed. -“By the time that light’s abeam, it will be dawn. -Then we’ll have to close haul in the first tack and -get under the lee of the line. We’ll make for Dartmouth -and land our passenger. He’s just told me -his name is Marner, son of old Dick Marner.”</p> - -<p>“The pal of Blueskin Bone, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Hope not,” replied Mr. Grant, laughing. -“The old man denied the acquaintanceship. -However, that’s done with; Blueskin fades out -of the picture like a bad dream.”</p> - -<p>Almost before the fact could be realised dawn -broke. A rosy flush spread over the north-eastern -sky, revealing a turmoil of angry, grey-crested -waves, for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was only a mile or -so to the south’ard of The Start, and was feeling -the effect of the weather-going tide surging over -the ledge of submerged rocks, extending from -that bold and dangerous headland.</p> - -<p>The yacht was rolling heavily as she ran, but -her seaworthiness was now fully established. She -was making better weather of it than a vessel of -three or four times her tonnage.</p> - -<p>“Nor’east a quarter north, now,” ordered the -Scoutmaster. “A pull on the mainsheet, Heavitree. -I’ll see to the head-sheets.”</p> - -<p>Craddock put the helm down. Round came the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> until the youthful helmsman “met her” -on the required course. She was now almost, but -not quite, close-hauled. The rolling motion gave -place to a fairly steady heel. Showers of spray -flew inboard over her weather bow, while her lee-bow -wave creamed and frothed in a way that gave -a fairly true indication of the speed she was -making. After running for hours the sense of -being close-hauled was unmistakably thrilling.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t she hopping it, eh?” exclaimed Heavitree, -as he coiled down the flake of the mainsheet. -“Hello, sir! Look what you’ve done.”</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster followed the direction of the -Sea Scout’s glance. The bandage on his hand -was dyed red.</p> - -<p>“Must have opened the cut when I handled the -jib-sheet,” he thought. “Well, it’s a good thing -it was covered up; no dirt can get to it.”</p> - -<p>“It’s nothing much,” he remarked casually. -“Now, you fellows, let’s see who has the keenest -eyesight. There should be a conical buoy on our -port bow about a couple of miles off.”</p> - -<p>“I see it, sir!” exclaimed Heavitree almost at -once. “It’s dead on with our bowsprit-end.”</p> - -<p>“Is it, by Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Grant. “Up -helm, Peter! At that! We’re closer in than I -thought. We might have piled the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> on -The Skerries. See those houses just under The -Start? That’s Beesands, or what’s left of it. -Most of the village was washed away in a gale. -The fishermen there train dogs to swim out to -the returning boats and swim back with a line. -It takes some doing in a rough sea. We’re in -smoother water now. Do you see that high point -of land ahead, Peter? Steer for that; never mind -the compass.”</p> - -<p>Pointing out various places of interest ashore, -Mr. Grant chatted briskly in order to arouse the -obviously flagging spirits of the two lads. They -had stuck it well during the night watches, and -now they kicked against the suggestion that they -should go below to be relieved by Brandon and -Talbot.</p> - -<p>“Why not bother about the compass, sir?” -asked Peter.</p> - -<p>“Because for the present it isn’t absolutely -necessary,” explained Mr. Grant. “When you’ve -a fixed object to steer by, it saves the strain of -peering into the binnacle-hood. You fellows have -had quite enough of that to-night, or rather last -night. Now, Heavitree, nip below and get the -stove going. Nothing like a cup of hot cocoa in -the early morning after a long trick. When it’s -ready, tell Brandon to turn out. We’ll want an -extra hand if we have to beat in. This wind will -head us, I fancy, when we’re abreast the Homestone.”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was now so steady that Heavitree -had no difficulty in lighting the stove. In about -ten minutes his tousled head appeared, framed in -the companion.</p> - -<p>“Cocoa’s ready, sir,” he announced, “and all -the others are awake and want cocoa too.”</p> - -<p>“You want me, sir?” asked Brandon, as he -edged past Heavitree in the companion.</p> - -<p>“Yes, please,” replied Mr. Grant. “Have -your cocoa and a biscuit first, then tell the others -to get their breakfasts when they’re dressed. We -don’t want too many on deck, if we’ve to tack in. -And, while you are about it, you might hand me -the chart of Dartmouth Harbour.”</p> - -<p>Six o’clock was striking as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, at one -moment heeling to the fierce blasts that swept -down from the lofty ground and at another -gliding with canvas hanging idly in a flat calm, -made her way between the twin castles of St. -Petrox and Kingswear, and gained the land-locked -harbour of Dartmouth. Fortunately the -first of the flood tide was setting in, and without -much difficulty the yacht gained its anchorage.</p> - -<p>“There’s a vacant buoy,” observed Mr. Grant, -pointing to one a short distance astern of a small -tramp steamer. “We’ll pick it up. It will be -much safer than riding to a kedge. We’ll have to -get another anchor some time to-day, and the -sooner the better. Now, Brandon, let’s see how -you come up to moorings.”</p> - -<p>Considering the Patrol Leader was as yet almost -a stranger to the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> capabilities he managed -remarkably well. Judging the distance to a nicety, -he put the helm down and shot the yacht up into -the wind. Heavitree running for’ard picked up -the buoy with a boat-hook, and hauling in the -buoy rope passed the mooring chain round the -bitts before the yacht had time to “fall off.”</p> - -<p>“Well done!” exclaimed Mr. Grant approvingly. -“Down canvas! Then breakfast and a -jolly good sound sleep!”</p> - -<p>“Could do with both, sir,” agreed Craddock -feelingly.</p> - -<p>But the Scoutmaster had much to do before he -could enjoy an already well-earned rest. As soon -as the post-office opened he went ashore in the -dinghy and telegraphed to old Marner the news -of his son’s safety. Also he had to report the -matter to the Registrar of Shipping. He then took -the opportunity of communicating with Scoutmaster -Pendennis at Falmouth, acquainting him -of the fact that the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had arrived at Dartmouth -under somewhat unusual conditions and -expressing a hope that even yet the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> and -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> would be able to cruise in company.</p> - -<p>His next business was to make arrangements -with the local representative of the Shipwrecked -Mariners Aid Society, to have Dick Marner taken -ashore and sent home by train.</p> - -<p>Finally, he bought another anchor to replace -the one lying on the bed of Falmouth Harbour.</p> - -<p>He returned on board to find all the crew asleep -with the exception of Carline, who had been told -off to keep anchor watch.</p> - -<p>“You’d better turn in, too, Carline,” said Mr. -Grant. “We aren’t getting under way to-day, and -perhaps not to-morrow either. We want fair -weather for the run past Portland Bill, and, -judging by this morning’s sunrise, we aren’t going -to get it just at present.”</p> - -<p>Going to his own cabin, Mr. Grant saw that -Marner was awake.</p> - -<p>“Feelin’ fine, sir,” replied the man in answer -to the Scoutmaster’s enquiry. “But I’m fair -hungry. That beef tea was all very well, but it -don’t fill a man’s innards, in a manner o’ speakin’, -sir. Can’t I have somethin’ as ’as got summat to -bite at?”</p> - -<p>“I think so, now,” said Mr. Grant, smiling at -the Cornishman’s quaintly phrased request. “And -a boat’s coming for you some time before noon. -You’ll be given your fare to Falmouth, and with -luck you’ll be home to-night. But you’ll have to -be careful with that head of yours, and not shake -yourself up too much on your motor bike.”</p> - -<p>A look of bewilderment spread over the bronzed -features of Dick Marner, junior.</p> - -<p>“Moty bike, sir?” he rejoined. “Can’t say -as I follers what you’m meaning.”</p> - -<p>It was Mr. Grant’s turn to look surprised. -Could it be that Marner was suffering from partial -loss of memory owing to the injury to his head?</p> - -<p>“Surely you remember your motor bicycle at -your father’s place at Polkebo?”</p> - -<p>“Never ’ad a moty bicycle in my life, sir,” was -the astounding reply. “Couldn’t ride un if I ’ad.”</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster made no comment, but -thought the more. Apparently the situation required -careful handling, but before he could frame -a suitable question, Dick Marner continued:</p> - -<p>“Now I comes to think on it, the moty cycle -you seed was Blueskin Bone’s. ’E an’ fayther are -neighbours like; an’ Blueskin ain’t got no shed in -’is garden, and ’aving trouble to get moty cycle up -the girt steps to ’is door, ’e keeps un in fayther’s -shed.”</p> - -<p>“So that’s it,” thought Mr. Grant. “I wish -I’d known that when I interviewed Mr. Marner, -senior, the sly old rascal! However, Blueskin’s a -back number as far as we are concerned. That’s -something to be thankful for.”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='96' id='Page_96'></span><h1> CHAPTER X <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Blueskin’s Plot</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>T</span>he</span> presence of the Aberstour Sea Scouts’ -yacht <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> in Dartmouth Harbour attracted -a fair amount of interest, but none more -than that shown by a tall, heavily built, and loose-jowled -deck-hand on board the <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span>.</p> - -<p>Leaning over the bulwark of the tramp and -shading his face with his hands, the man gazed so -intently at the newly arrived yacht that one of his -shipmates was struck by his studied interest.</p> - -<p>“Lor’, Blueskin!” he exclaimed. “Wot’s -strikin’ your fancy now? Ain’t you never seen -a crowd o’ Sea Scoutses afore?”</p> - -<p>Carlo Bone spat contemptuously into the -scuppers.</p> - -<p>“Axin’ for trouble, them is,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>“An’ so’ll you be if the Old Man sees you -hangin’ on to the slack,” rejoined the other. -“Bear a hand an’ help shift this ’ere dunnage.”</p> - -<p>The <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span> was lying within a hundred -yards of the mooring which the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had picked -up. She had arrived a few days before, having -developed engine trouble in that antiquated box -which required all the skill and patience of a dour -Scots engineer to take the old tramp along at even -a modest five knots.</p> - -<p>The sight of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> acted like a red rag to -a mad bull as far as Blueskin Bone was concerned. -The mere knowledge that had it not been for -“them Sea Scoutses” he might have become the -owner of the craft never ceased to anger him. -Even when, acting upon the idea that Polkebo was -getting too hot for him, he had shipped aboard -the <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span> his resentment did not die -down; it merely smouldered, to be revived to -white heat when, quite unexpectedly, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -came in with the flood tide from the boisterous -waters of the English Channel.</p> - -<p>“If she ain’t mine,” he muttered, “she won’t -be nobody’s—not if I can ’elp it. Too mighty -cute those chaps wur last time—when they thought -as I wur about. If they don’t see I, maybe they -won’t be so plaguey wideawake.”</p> - -<p>For the rest of his watch Blueskin spent most -of the time taking furtive glances at the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -and cudgelling his brains to devise some cunning -plan to gain his ends. In order to conceal himself -from observation from the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, he even declined -to go ashore that evening, much to his -shipmates’ surprise.</p> - -<p>Long after the hands had turned in that night -Blueskin lay awake. When at length silence -reigned in the stuffy fo’c’sle of the <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span>, -Carlo Bone slipped out of his bunk, barefooted -and wearing only a pair of canvas trousers.</p> - -<p>It was a pitch dark night. Heavy clouds overspread -the sky. A hard blow was raging out in -the Channel, and even the land-locked waters of -Dartmouth Harbour were foam-flecked. The -flood tide was on the point of turning. In fact, -all the shipping at anchor on the Kingswear side -were riding head to wind. Eighty yards or so -away, the riding-light of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> see-sawed as -the yacht rolled and strained at her borrowed -moorings.</p> - -<p>Groping about in the darkness, Blueskin soon -found what he wanted: an iron bucket to which -he had previously attached a short length of -flexible steel wire. The bucket he lowered over -the ship’s side by means of a piece of spun yarn -until it hung just above the surface.</p> - -<p>Giving a final look round to reassure himself -that no one was on deck, Blueskin lowered himself -into the water. Then, casting off the lashing -that held the bucket, he struck out for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, -pushing the bucket in front of him.</p> - -<p>Like most Cornishmen, Blueskin Bone was a -powerful swimmer, and an expert diver. It was -mere child’s-play to him to swim to the yacht’s -stern, partly fill the bucket to make it float upright, -and then to dive with the free end of the flexible -wire in his grasp.</p> - -<p>Blueskin had seen the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> high and dry so -often that he was well acquainted with the way in -which her rudder fastenings were fixed. In the -darkness the task he had in hand presented no -difficulty. Quickly he passed the end of the wire -between the rudder and the stern-post just above -the lower pintle, and came to the surface with the -steel rope still in his hand.</p> - -<p>His next act was to bend the end of the wire to -the handle of the bucket, so that both extremities -were secured close together. The bucket was now -firmly attached to the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> rudder by the -doubled parts of the wire.</p> - -<p>“That’ll ’old till the crows come ’ome,” he -muttered, as he tugged at the last hitch of the -rope.</p> - -<p>Tilting the bucket, Blueskin allowed it to fill -and sink. It was now suspended at the end of a -few feet of steel wire immediately under the -yacht’s stern-post.</p> - -<p>Having accomplished what he had set out to do, -Carlo Bone swam back to the <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span>, swarmed -up her side, removed and wrung out his trousers, -and crept back to his bunk.</p> - -<p>“Reckon I ain’t cried quits wi’ ’em yet,” he -muttered, recalling with mingled feelings of -humiliation and anger the incident when he was -knocked out by a mere youth. “ ’Tany rate, I’ve -done summat t’wards gettin’ my own back. Like -as not them’ll have a leadin’ wind outer ’ere when -them starts. An’ a fair tide. But when it comes -tu goin’ about like in the Range, that there bucket’ll -make ’em miss stays. They’ll be fair on the rocks -afore they knows where they be.”</p> - -<p>There was deep cunning in Carlo Bone’s plan. -He counted upon the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> getting under way -with a fair wind and a fair tide. The crew would -not be likely to notice that they were towing a -bucket under the stern, although the drag would -be considerable. But in the Narrows, at the -entrance to the harbour, the baffling wind and the -set of the tidal current would compel the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -to attempt at least one tack. Then the impediment -caused by the bucket would be more than -sufficient to make her “miss stays,” and in that -hopeless state she would be driven upon the saw-edged -rocks to lee’ard almost before her crew -realised their danger.</p> - -<p>Chuckling sardonically, Blueskin lay awake in -his bunk until nearly dawn—the dawn of a day -on which, if his plans went aright, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -would ignominiously end her career upon the -rock-strewn coast of Devon.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='101' id='Page_101'></span><h1> CHAPTER XI <br/> <span class='sub-head'>How it Failed</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“A</span>ll</span> clear for’ard?” shouted Patrol Leader -Brandon. “Stand by to let go!”</p> - -<p>Fifty hours had elapsed since the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> found -her way into Dartmouth Harbour. The summer -storm had blown itself out. The Sea Scouts, -having made up arrears of sleep, were in the best -of spirits and keenly looking forward to the long -run across West Bay and round the famous Bill -of Portland.</p> - -<p>It was almost a flat calm. The tide was -still ebbing. The <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span> remained at -anchor, repairs to her machinery being still in -progress.</p> - -<p>According to his rule of letting the Sea Scouts -work their craft as far as possible entirely on their -own responsibility, Mr. Grant was acting in the -rôle of passenger, Patrol Leader Frank Brandon -being for the present skipper of the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>“Get an oar out, Heavitree,” continued the -Patrol Leader. “We’ll have to sweep her round -in this light breeze, and probably tow her clear of -the harbour. She’ll shift easily enough when once -we get way on her.”</p> - -<p>Brandon was on the point of calling to Carline -to cast off the mooring when he noticed a small -motor boat approaching, apparently with the intention -of crossing the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> bows. Instead, -the owner of the power-craft reversed, put her -helm over, and ran alongside.</p> - -<p>“Good morning!” he exclaimed. “I see you -fellows are off. Perhaps you’d like a tow? I’m -off to the East Blockstone to try a bit of fishing, -so if you like I’ll take a line.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks awfully, sir,” replied Brandon. “It’s -jolly good of you.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” rejoined the owner of the motor -boat. “Matter of fact, I used to be a Scoutmaster. -Had to give it up, unfortunately. However, I still -stick to the practice of ‘One Good Turn a Day’—more -if I have a chance. . . . Sorry, I didn’t see -you,” he added, addressing Mr. Grant, who had -just come out of the saloon. “Why! Surely your -name’s Grant?”</p> - -<p>“Quite right,” was the reply, “but somehow I -can’t recall you.”</p> - -<p>“Possibly not,” continued the other, with a -laugh. “Do you remember coming alongside a -tramp on Christmas Day ’17? You were in a -M.L. and you got some bully beef and bread out -of our old hooker. At the same time you warned -us that there were two U-boats off Bolt Head, and -said we’d better leg it back to Plymouth?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant remembered the circumstance. It -was during the war, when he was in command of -a M.L.</p> - -<p>“But I can’t recall your features,” he reiterated.</p> - -<p>“ ’Cause I am beautifully disguised with a -beard,” explained the other. “Matter of fact, we -didn’t take your advice. We held on our -course, and bagged a Fritz a couple of hours -later. We were a ‘Q’ ship, and you didn’t -spot us.”</p> - -<p>“Heard about it later on,” said Mr. Grant. -“Then your name’s Carter?”</p> - -<p>“Just so; late Scoutmaster of the 9th Gosport -Sea Scouts. Unfortunately, ‘owing to the War,’ -I had to give up, much to my regret, and settle -down here at Kingswear. Come aboard, and we -can yarn while I’m towing your craft out of the -harbour.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant accepted the invitation, leaving -Brandon actually in command of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>The tow-rope was made fast, the moorings -slipped. Very gently, by skilful use of the reverse -gear, Mr. Carter allowed the yacht to gather way -in the wake of the 4-h.p. motor boat.</p> - -<p>During the run down the harbour, Brandon -kept all hands busily employed in casting loose -mainsail and mizzen and hoisting the jib in stops -ready to be broken out directly the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was -cast off. Thus engaged they failed to notice the -relatively slow progress or the somewhat unusual -swirl under the yacht’s stern. Nor were they -aware of the presence of a highly exasperated deck-hand -on board the <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span>, who consoled -himself for the preliminary failure of his plans by -the thought that perhaps the motor boat would not -tow the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> right out to sea, but only just clear -of St. Petrox. In that case there was still some -hope that the yacht would pile herself up upon the -tide-swept Verticals or perhaps the rugged Mewstone.</p> - -<p>“You’ve a lump of a craft there, Grant,” remarked -Mr. Carter. “She’s heavier to tow than -I thought; although this packet is only a four-horse -motor boat.”</p> - -<p>“Yet she’s moving her all right,” added Mr. -Grant.</p> - -<p>“Yes, with the tide. I doubt whether we are -doing three knots. Has the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> compo. been -scrubbed recently?”</p> - -<p>“Fresh on a week ago,” declared the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>“H’m,” commented Mr. Carter, “strange -we aren’t doing better. A few days ago I gave -a forty tonner a pluck in, and made quite easy -work of it once I got her going. There’s the -East Blackstone”—pointing to an isolated rock -about half a mile away. “I’ll tow you inside the -rock. There’s plenty of water and less tide -running. You’re early yet for the up-Channel -stream, but with the breeze you’ll stem the tide -all right.”</p> - -<p>At the East Blackstone the tow-rope was cast -off. Mr. Grant regained the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, and the crew -gave a hearty cheer for the benefit of the ex-Scoutmaster. -Sail was quickly made, and under -all plain canvas the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was steadied on her -course for Portland Bill.</p> - -<p>Half an hour passed. The anchored motor boat -was still unaccountably near. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, in -spite of the steady favourable breeze, was not -going anything like as fast as she had done in a -lighter wind.</p> - -<p>The Sea Scouts began to realise the fact and -reluctantly they admitted that it was so. Even -the dinghy’s painter was slack, whereas in this -breeze the water ought to be foaming at her -bows.</p> - -<p>“We are going slowly, sir,” remarked Craddock.</p> - -<p>“That’s what Mr. Carter said,” replied the -Scoutmaster. “There’s no reason why we should -as far as I can see, unless we’ve fouled a few -lobster pots. Look over the bows and see.”</p> - -<p>Peter went for’ard and “laid out” along the -bowsprit. He could see the yacht’s forefoot -showing clearly through the pale green water.</p> - -<p>“All clear there, sir,” he reported.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how anything could foul her -rudder,” observed Mr. Grant. “The keel band -projects sufficiently to prevent that; however, -just look to make sure.”</p> - -<p>Craddock did so.</p> - -<p>“Why!” he exclaimed. “There’s something -dragging astern. I can’t make out what it is, -’cause the wake is bubbling so much. Pass me -the boat-hook, Talbot.”</p> - -<p>Lying at full length on the stern deck, Peter -probed with the iron-shod boat-hook. Metal -rasped on metal, and on attempting to withdraw -the boat-hook the Sea Scout found that it was -hitched in a line of some sort.</p> - -<p>“Bear a hand, some of you fellows!” he called -out breathlessly.</p> - -<p>Talbot and Symington came to his assistance. -All three hauled and levered at the stout ash boat-hook -stave.</p> - -<p>“Can’t get in another inch,” declared -Talbot.</p> - -<p>“Sure you’re not foul of the rudder?” asked -Mr. Grant.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, it’s astern of the rudder, whatever -it is.”</p> - -<p>“Now, Brandon, you’re in charge,” said the -Scoutmaster. “Carry on and see what you -can do.”</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader began throwing off his -scanty clothing.</p> - -<p>“Down helm!” he ordered. “Jib and staysail -sheets a-weather!”</p> - -<p>It took three attempts to get the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to come -up into the wind so that she might be hove-to. -As sluggish as a mule, she absolutely refused to -go about until Carline and Wilson got her round -by means of a sweep. Then Craddock prodded -with the boat-hook, and this time found nothing -more resisting than water.</p> - -<p>“Whatever it is it has slipped off,” he announced.</p> - -<p>“I’ll make sure, in any case,” declared -Brandon.</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader made a clean dive, broke -surface, and swam to the yacht’s stern. Then, -taking a deep breath, he grasped the edge of the -rudder and lowered himself towards the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> -heel.</p> - -<p>He was under for nearly half a minute; then -he reappeared, puffing and blowing like a grampus.</p> - -<p>“There’s a large iron bucket hanging from the -lower pintle,” he reported. “I tried to shake it -clear, but it’s made fast by about a couple of yards -of wire rope.”</p> - -<p>“See if you can work the free end of the wire -past the stern-post,” suggested Craddock. “I’ll -put the helm hard over and see if that frees it.”</p> - -<p>“There is no free end,” was the astonishing -reply. “Both ends are tightly knotted round the -handle of the bucket.”</p> - -<p>All hands realised that the obstruction had not -been placed there by accident or natural causes. -Human agency had been deliberately at work.</p> - -<p>“No use arguing about it, lads!” called out -Brandon. “Pass me the hack-saw.”</p> - -<p>“One minute, I’ll be with you, Frank,” said -Craddock, proceeding to strip. “It’s not much -use sawing at a slack wire. Get a line, Talbot. -That’s right. Now, Frank, can you pass this under -the handle of the bucket? You can? Good. -Now, you fellows, take a strain; put plenty of -beef into it and keep the rope taut.”</p> - -<p>Craddock then went overboard and swam to -give his chum a hand. They found that the strain -on the rope had brought the bucket within five or -six inches of the surface, and that the wire was as -taut as a bar of iron.</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t it be easier and quicker to saw -through the handle?” asked Craddock.</p> - -<p>“Yes, but we won’t,” decided the Patrol Leader. -“Why spoil what seems to be a jolly decent -bucket?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve kicked the bucket,” declared Peter -feelingly.</p> - -<p>A roar of laughter greeted this apparently -innocent remark. Craddock, failing to grasp the -grim significance of the words, couldn’t imagine -why his chums should roar because he had stubbed -his toe against the submerged article.</p> - -<p>Taking turns to use the hack-saw, the two lads -set to work energetically. True they broke a -couple of blades—mishaps that, owing to the -erratic motion of the yacht and their unstable -position, were not to be wondered at—but at -length the tautened wire parted. The bucket was -hauled in deck while Brandon, who believed in -doing a good job thoroughly, extricated the -stranded wire rope from the narrow gap between -the rudder and the stern-post.</p> - -<p>“Dirty dogs, whoever they are,” commented -the Patrol Leader, after he had hauled himself -clear of the water.</p> - -<p>“Here’s a clue, anyway,” exclaimed Heavitree.</p> - -<p>He pointed to the somewhat dented side of the -bucket. On it could be traced the partly obliterated -letters in black paint. . . . UM . . . R.J. . . .K.</p> - -<p>“<span class='it'>Lumberjack!</span>” announced Craddock. “That’s -the name of the tramp lying next to us at Dartmouth.”</p> - -<p>“Why should any of her crew want to play a -joke on us, I wonder?” enquired Carline. -“Couldn’t you write to the owners and find out -the names of the crew, sir? That might explain -matters.”</p> - -<p>“I am thinking seriously of doing so,” replied -Mr. Grant. “There may be more in this business -than we know. It’s not merely a practical joke; -had we been compelled to tack out of harbour the -result might easily have been disastrous. Now, -Brandon! Get way on her again. She ought to -slip along in a nice breeze like this; and Portland’s -still a long way off.”</p> - -<p>With that the Scoutmaster went below.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='111' id='Page_111'></span><h1> CHAPTER XII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Out of Action</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>M</span>r. Grant</span> went to his cabin for a very -serious reason. His hand was rapidly -swelling. The slight cut he had received when -he rescued young Marner from the sinking -schooner had resulted in an undoubted case of -blood-poisoning. He, who was prone to boast of -his immunity from that sort of thing, had at last -fallen a victim to the dangerous malady.</p> - -<p>For some time he had suspected it. He ought -to have gone ashore at Dartmouth and seen a -doctor. He would have done but for the fear that -he might be ordered to lay up. In that case, the -voyage of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> would have been indefinitely -prolonged—long after the forthcoming Jamboree -was over. Although Brandon was quite a capable -fellow, he held no warrant, without which Sea -Scouts are not permitted to go afloat; and it was -doubtful whether a fully qualified man could be -found to undertake the duties of temporary Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>So, rather than spoil the lads’ chance of taking -part in the Chichester Harbour Jamboree, Mr. -Grant risked his own.</p> - -<p>He had had a restless night. Almost hourly he -had crept softly from his bunk lest he should disturb -the rest of the crew, and had held the injured -hand in very warm water. But all to no seeming -purpose. The middle finger was swelling badly, -and, what was ominous, sharp, stabbing pains -were running up his arm. Curiously, the cut at -the base of the fingers appeared to be healing, -while the swelling was most pronounced on the -knuckle of the same digit.</p> - -<p>As he kept his hand in the hot water, Mr. -Grant’s thoughts turned to the incident of the -bucket. It seemed strange indeed that already -the maiden cruise of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> should be marked -by three distinct—or apparently distinct—attempts -to bring her to disaster. But were they distinct? -Could it be that Blueskin Bone was the instigator -of all three? Dick Marner’s innocent admission -that his father and Carlo Bone were more than -neighbours, coupled with the discovery that -Marner senior’s story of the motor bicycle was -a deliberate falsehood, tended to shake Mr. -Grant’s previous belief in Blueskin’s innocence in -the attempt at arson. Carlo Bone had gone to sea. -Was it beyond the bounds of coincidence that he -was one of the crew of the <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span>?</p> - -<p>He went on thinking and thinking. Presently, -in a hazy sort of way, he became aware that his -thoughts were ridiculously disjointed and absurd. -The pain in his arm seemed to be subsiding, but -in its stead he felt uncomfortably hot. His head -was buzzing. Grey lights danced in front of his -eyes.</p> - -<p>Then Mr. Grant did something he had never -done before in his life. He fainted.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later Peter Craddock, who was -making his way to the fo’c’sle, found his Scoutmaster -lying inertly across the raised coaming of -his cabin doorway.</p> - -<p>Checking his first impulse to alarm the rest of -the crew, Peter lifted the unconscious form and -carried it into the saloon. Here, with very little -effort, the Sea Scout lifted Mr. Grant on the -lee’ard settee; then, going to the companion way, -asked Heavitree in a matter-of-fact voice to step -below.</p> - -<p>“Don’t say anything to the other chaps,” -cautioned Peter, when his chum came below. -“Mr. Grant’s fainted. I found him lying in the -doorway. Get some sal volatile and a basin of -cold water while I loosen his collar.”</p> - -<p>“What made him faint?” asked Heavitree, as -he carried out Craddock’s instructions.</p> - -<p>“Don’t know,” replied Peter. “It’s not concussion.”</p> - -<p>“His finger, perhaps?”</p> - -<p>“Rot!” ejaculated the lad contemptuously. -Then he caught sight of the badly swollen hand. -“By Jove! Believe you’re right, old son. I knew -he had a nasty gash, but I never knew it was as -bad as this. Skylight’s open: you might open all -the scuttles. The more fresh air the better.”</p> - -<p>Presently Mr. Grant opened his eyes and looked -dazedly at his youthful attendants.</p> - -<p>“Where am I?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“You’re all right, sir,” replied Peter reassuringly. -“Heavitree and I are looking after you. -Lie still a little longer.”</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster did so. The ghastly greyish -hue on his features was giving place to the glow -of returning vitality. His thoughts were again -becoming coherent, yet he felt a curious sense of -resentment at being ordered to remain quiet.</p> - -<p>With returning consciousness came the agonising -throb of his swollen arm. His hand was -trailing over the side of the settee. It felt like -lead. He was hardly able to raise it.</p> - -<p>“Silly of me to have gone off like that,” he -soliloquised. “Well, that’s put me out of the -running for a bit. Hang it all—no! What am I -thinking about?”</p> - -<p>A vision of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> with her youthful crew -flashed across his mind. So far all was going well. -The sea was calm, the weather fine. Brandon -knew the course, but would he be able to take the -yacht into port?</p> - -<p>“I’ll go on deck now,” he declared.</p> - -<p>“No, you won’t, sir,” countered Craddock -firmly. “You aren’t fit to go. Wait till we’ve -done something to that hand of yours. You’ll -only make it worse if you bang it against something. -I’ll dress it for you. Does it hurt much?”</p> - -<p>“A little,” admitted Mr. Grant deprecatingly, -for the pain was now intense. Possibly in his fall -he had jarred the already badly swollen limb.</p> - -<p>Peter went for’ard to boil some water and make -a bread poultice. While the water was being -heated he went on deck to tell Brandon and the -others of what had occurred.</p> - -<p>He found Talbot at the helm. Symington and -Wilson were trying with varying success to induce -Molly to sit up and beg. The pup was willing -enough, but the gentle motion of the yacht was -too much for her. Also she had a not unfounded -suspicion that the cat rescued from the <span class='it'>Euterpe</span>—young -Marner had emphatically declined to take -it with him—was secretly helping herself to the -pup’s bowl of milk.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Brandon?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p>“Up aloft,” replied Talbot, glancing at the -cross-trees.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be down in half a shake, old son!” called -out the Patrol Leader. “I’ve been trying to sight -Portland Bill. It’s too far off yet.”</p> - -<p>Craddock swept the horizon. Right astern and -on the port quarter the red hills of Devon were -merging into the mist of a hot summer’s day. -Broad on the port beam, where the chalk cliffs -make their first appearance on the south shores of -England, land was no longer visible. Neither was -it ahead. To starboard, Peter knew, was the broad -expanse of the English Channel. For the first time -in his life, Craddock was about to find himself out -of sight of land. With the exception of Brandon, -the other Sea Scouts were to have a similar experience: -afloat with an unbroken horizon of sea -and sky forming a complete circle of which the -little <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> formed the exact centre. It was true -that they had been out of sight of land during the -fog, but that wasn’t the same thing. Had there -been no fog they would have seen the rugged -Cornish coast the whole time. Now, even in the -clearest weather, they would probably be an hour -or more out of sight of land until the wedge-shaped -promontory of Portland showed up on the -port bow.</p> - -<p>Even as Craddock looked, a strange, muffled -voice exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it quite about time you fellows liberated -me from this uncomfortable apartment?”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='117' id='Page_117'></span><h1> CHAPTER XIII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Stowaway</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>F</span>or</span> a few moments, Peter Craddock could -hardly believe his sense of hearing. Wilson -and Symington were also too astonished for words. -They could only abandon their efforts to teach the -pup tricks and gaze blankly at Craddock’s face. -The first conclusion they arrived at was that Peter -was indulging in a little ventriloquism at their -expense.</p> - -<p>Craddock, too, tried to “fix” the owner of the -voice. With the exception of Heavitree the others -were on deck. Carline was for’ard, lying in -luxurious ease and basking in the sunshine on the -fore-deck. Brandon was still aloft; Talbot at the -helm; Symington and Wilson in the cockpit.</p> - -<p>“Kindly open the door!” exclaimed the voice -again. This time there was a violent rapping on -the panel of one of the side lockers in the cockpit.</p> - -<p>The locker was a fairly spacious one, extending -from the after bulkhead of the cabin on the starboard -side to the bulkhead supporting the decked-in -part of the stern. Usually it contained spare -sails, canvas awnings, and warps not likely to be -frequently required. It was secured by means of -a detachable panel held in place by two projecting -battens at one end and a stout wooden button at -the other.</p> - -<p>“Brandon!” sang out Peter.</p> - -<p>“Coming,” replied the Patrol Leader. “What’s -wrong?”</p> - -<p>Swinging himself down by the throat halliards, -Brandon gained the deck and came aft.</p> - -<p>“Someone’s in there,” declared Craddock.</p> - -<p>“Then hike him out,” rejoined Brandon in -matter-of-fact tones. “This isn’t the First of -April, me lad!”</p> - -<p>“I quite agree,” boomed the voice from the -locker.</p> - -<p>Brandon gave a start, but quickly recovering -himself, threw open the panel. Lying full length -on the assortment of canvas gear and blinking in -the strong sunlight was a boy of about twelve or -fourteen.</p> - -<p>“Come out!” ordered Brandon sternly.</p> - -<p>“Precisely what I’ve been wanting to do for the -last five minutes,” replied the youth, with astonishing -coolness. “Just wait until I have collected -my scanty belongings and your request will be -complied with.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I never——” ejaculated the Patrol -Leader.</p> - -<p>“Don’t distress yourself,” continued the boy. -“Wait until I am in a position to offer an explanation. -My limbs, I find, are somewhat -cramped.”</p> - -<p>With the utmost deliberation the stowaway -emerged and stood upright in the cockpit with -the Sea Scouts still too astonished to say much, -hemming him in on three sides.</p> - -<p>He was a pale-faced, sharp-featured lad of -medium height and sparely built. The most -noticeable feature about him was a high and -prominent forehead. He was dressed in a tightly -fitting suit of grey tweed and an Eton collar, his -thin, bony wrists projecting quite three inches -beyond his coat sleeves. Under one arm he held -a schoolboy’s satchel, from which protruded a -glass-stoppered bottle.</p> - -<p>“You hid yourself on board?” began Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Your surmise is a perfectly correct one,” -agreed this remarkable youth, with a grave smile. -“In the circumstances I had no option. Had I -asked to be allowed to accompany you, my request -would have been refused. As it is, I’m here.”</p> - -<p>“A stowaway!” exclaimed the Patrol Leader. -“You deserve a booting.”</p> - -<p>The boy made a deprecatory movement with -his hand.</p> - -<p>“Believe me, it isn’t done,” he rejoined. “Personal -violence to stowaways is, I take it, an -obsolete practice that has shared the same fate as -walking the plank and keel-hauling. At least, I -hope I am not misinformed. . . . I say, what a -jolly little pup!”</p> - -<p>“Never mind the pup,” protested Brandon. -“Tell me what you are doing on board.”</p> - -<p>“Enjoying—or expecting to enjoy—a free -journey to Chichester. The chances are I shall. -You can’t very well go back to Dartmouth; you -can’t put me overboard. So it seems as if I remain -here a while, and I’ve brought my provisions!”</p> - -<p>“I’ll see what Mr. Grant has to say,” decided -Brandon, who had never before come in contact -with such a self-possessed and precocious -youngster.</p> - -<p>“One minute,” interrupted Peter, drawing his -chum aside. “Come for’ard.”</p> - -<p>Craddock and Brandon made their way to the -fore-deck, where Carline was slumbering in ignorance -of what had occurred.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Grant fainted just now,” reported Peter. -“Heavitree’s with him. I fancy it’s his hand that -made him go off. It’s a case of blood-poisoning, -I’m afraid. I was boiling some water to make a -poultice when this happened. I vote we say -nothing to Mr. Grant until he’s had a good rest, -but I leave it to you. You’re skipper.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o!” agreed Brandon. “Where is he? -In his cabin?”</p> - -<p>“No, on one of the settees in the saloon.”</p> - -<p>“Then carry on, old son. I’ll tell the others -to keep clear a bit and not to disturb him. You -can manage all right?”</p> - -<p>Peter went below. He found that the Scoutmaster -was nearly asleep and that the water was -boiling. It seemed an unpleasant duty to have to -rouse the patient, but it had to be done.</p> - -<p>The poultice was made and applied. It was a -very hot one, and Mr. Grant winced; but in a -few minutes the warmth began to act soothingly -upon the fiercely throbbing finger.</p> - -<p>“That’s ever so much better, Peter,” remarked -Mr. Grant gratefully.</p> - -<p>“Good business, sir,” rejoined the Sea Scout. -“Now, try and go to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“Not much doubt about that,” said the patient. -“I’ll try a couple of hours’ sleep. Tell Brandon -to inform me when Portland Bill is in sight. It -ought to show up one point on our port bow.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir.”</p> - -<p>As he was leaving the cabin, Peter signed to -Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“I’ll send Wilson down to relieve you,” he said. -“There’ll have to be someone in the saloon in -case Mr. Grant wants anything. Give an eye to -the kettle before you come on deck, and bring -some grub with you. We’ll have dinner on deck, -then we won’t disturb him.”</p> - -<p>Peter found the stowaway still hemmed in by -the justifiably inquisitive Sea Scouts. The boy -had dropped much of his stiffness of manner and -seemed more at ease, although he retained his -quaint method of speech. Possibly he had been -nervous and had concealed his anxiety under a -mask of forced self-assurance. Now, finding that -the youthful crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were not in any -way antagonistic, he was becoming quite communicative.</p> - -<p>His name, he told them, was Eric Little. He -made the statement somewhat doubtfully, fearing, -perhaps, that his audience would “pull his leg” -over that once well-known book: “Eric, or Little -by Little.” He had had quite enough of that -already. Fortunately his fears in that respect were -ill-founded, for the work in question had mercifully -not been brought to the notice of the -Aberstour Sea Scouts.</p> - -<p>Eric’s parents were dead. He had been -“brought up” by his grandparents who lived on -the outskirts of Dartmouth. Apparently they had -weird and misguided notions as to how their -grandchild should be brought up. They had a -strange antipathy to schoolmasters. They absolutely -declined to let Eric go to school or to -associate with other children. His education, if -such it could be called, was imparted by a half-baked -governess of uncertain age and of a frigid -and ultra-prim manner. The natural result was -that Eric, invariably in the company of grown-ups, -had developed the pedantic manner of speech -that had so greatly astonished Brandon and his -companions. He was well versed in several serious -subjects, but his knowledge of the ways of boys of -his own age was lamentably weak. In spite of -himself, he was fast developing into a little prig, -and if compelled to run in the same rut he would -be an object of derision and scorn when the time -came for him to go out into the world.</p> - -<p>Luckily for him, although he did not know it, -his uninvited presence on board the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was to -be the making of him.</p> - -<p>He had no idea of running away from his overkind -and misguided grandparents. He merely -wanted a change. Somewhere in the neighbourhood -of Chichester he had an aunt and uncle. He -had never seen them, and beyond receiving presents -from them at Christmas and on his birthday -he was hardly aware of their existence. Yet he -felt a vague longing to visit them, and although -he had hinted of his wish in that direction, his -grandparents had for some unexplained reason -declined to allow him to do so.</p> - -<p>Eric had exercised considerable intelligence in -making a bid for a free journey to Chichester. -Quite by chance he had been standing under the -Butterwalk when Craddock and Talbot were talking -with some members of a Dartmouth troop of -Scouts. He gathered that the two former were -going to Chichester Harbour in a yacht for the -Jamboree. What the word “Jamboree” meant -he knew not. It sounded like something jolly. -At any rate, opportunity was knocking at the door -of his warped little mind, and there and then he -made up his mind to stow himself away on board -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>Acting upon his grandfather’s oft-repeated precept -that “There is no time like the present,” -Eric got busy. He had a few shillings with him. -This he invested in a supply of food and a couple -of bottles of ginger-beer. He knew that all the -crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were ashore; Craddock had -mentioned that there were eight including a Scoutmaster, -and eight had certainly landed at the steps -close to the boat pond. For the sum of one -shilling a weedy youth minding a yacht’s dinghy -agreed to row him off to the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, and there he -hid himself in the locker, hoping that the yacht -would put to sea that evening—which she did not.</p> - -<p>“What did you do with yourself all night?” -asked Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Oh, when you were all asleep I emerged from -my place of concealment for fresh air and in order -to stretch my cramped limbs,” explained the -stowaway. “Once that pup of yours growled, -but I don’t think it was on my account. That was -when a certain person swam off to the yacht from -the large ship at anchor.”</p> - -<p>“Someone swam off!” exclaimed Craddock. -“What did he do? Why didn’t you raise the -alarm?”</p> - -<p>Eric turned reproachful eyes upon his questioner.</p> - -<p>“My dear sir,” he replied. “It couldn’t be -done! It couldn’t really. Consider my position. -I really had no right to be on board. Neither, -presumably, had the swimmer to climb up over -the side. After all’s said and done, it wasn’t my -affair, was it?”</p> - -<p>“That was the chap who lashed the bucket to -the rudder,” declared the Patrol Leader. “What -sort of fellow was he?”</p> - -<p>“I gathered that he did so from subsequent -happenings,” rejoined Eric. “Regarding your -question, I’m sorry to inform you that I had no -opportunity of studying his features. Nocturnal -conditions and a natural desire to efface myself -combined to keep me in ignorance of the man’s -appearance. But here I am,” he added briskly, -“willing to acquire as much nautical knowledge -as my mental appetite will digest. Which, by the -by, is the main brace?”</p> - -<p>He cocked his eye aloft at the expanse of -tautened canvas, and then looked at Brandon -enquiringly.</p> - -<p>“No use, my lad,” replied the Patrol Leader. -“You won’t find a brace aboard this craft. Sea -Scouts favour belts, you know. Now, lads! -Dinner! We’re behind time.”</p> - -<p>The meal was duly relished and dispatched, the -stowaway receiving a share as a matter of course. -“Washing-up,” a distasteful yet necessary operation, -was completed, the plates and other utensils -being temporarily stowed in one of the cockpit -lockers in order that Mr. Grant would not be -disturbed had the gear been returned to its usual -place.</p> - -<p>By this time the wind had fallen light and was -almost dead aft. Land was still visible; only an -expanse of smooth sea rippled by erratic catspaws -greeted the sight of the crew.</p> - -<p>“Can’t we hoist the topsail?” asked Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Brandon decidedly, “we can’t. -Scoutmaster’s orders are that the topsail is not to -be set without his permission. But we can hoist -the spinnaker,” he added. “That’ll help us -along.”</p> - -<p>The spinnaker, a large triangular sail of light -canvas, was spread by being hoisted by a halliard -to the mainmast head, the tack being secured to -the mast below the gooseneck, while the third -corner of the sail was hauled out to the extremity -of a horizontal spar known as the spinnaker boom. -The latter was held by means of a sheet, but in -order to prevent any tendency on the part of the -boom to swing back, it was secured on the free -side of the sail by means of a rope called a “guy.” -The duty of “manning the guy” was deputed to -Fred Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“All ready, there?” sung out Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Ay, ay, sir!” replied Craddock.</p> - -<p>“Up with her, then! Out out-haul! Check -your sheet!” ordered the Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>Craddock and Talbot at the halliard whipped -the head of the canvas aloft. Simultaneously, -Wilson tailed on to the out-haul. The spinnaker, -distended by the light breeze, strained at the -sheet; then, without warning, dropped from aloft -in shivering folds. Unaccountably the halliard -had parted, letting the spinnaker down with a run.</p> - -<p>There was a heavy splash. Heavitree, enveloped -by the canvas, had been jerked into the sea.</p> - -<p>“Man overboard!” shouted Craddock. “Down -helm, Carline!”</p> - -<p>The helmsman put the tiller hard over. Peter, -snatching up a life-buoy, prepared to throw it -within easy reach of the Sea Scout in the ditch. -The others, abandoning the spinnaker, rushed aft -to bring the dinghy alongside to pick up their -chum.</p> - -<p>Alertly, Craddock watched the curving line of -ripples astern as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> came up into the -line. There was no sign of Heavitree. The lad -was an excellent swimmer, but there was the likelihood -that he had hit the rail as he fell and had -been rendered insensible.</p> - -<p>Full thirty long-drawn-out seconds passed, but -still no sign of Heavitree. Peter looked at Brandon. -The Patrol Leader shook his head.</p> - -<p>He was outwardly cool and collected; yet the -disappearance of Heavitree without a trace filled -him with apprehension. Even a stunned man -under water would be expelling air from his lungs -and the bubbles would show on the surface. The -difficulty was that already the yacht had covered -fifty or more yards since the time the accident had -occurred, and in consequence it was futile to -attempt to dive after the lad. And yet it was -agonising having to stand and watch and yet do -nothing.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was now hove-to on to the port -tack, her head-sheets, which had not been eased, -being taut to wind’ard. The folds of the spinnaker -hung idly over the starboard side between -the shrouds and the forestay.</p> - -<p>With one exception everyone was looking -astern. The exception was Eric Little. Unnoticed -by the others he crept cautiously for’ard -and began to gather in the trailing canvas. Hanging -on to the rail was the missing Heavitree, -breathless but otherwise none the worse for his -immersion. He had managed to grasp the coaming -as he fell, although he was immersed up to his -waist. The spinnaker, completely enveloping -him, had effectually hidden him from view.</p> - -<p>Willing hands assisted Heavitree on deck. The -Sea Scouts relieved their pent-up feelings with a -rousing cheer, the noise of which brought Mr. -Grant hurriedly on deck.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, lads?” he demanded -anxiously, as he blinked in the strong sunlight. -Coming straight from the darkened saloon he could -see little or nothing. “Why are we hove-to?”</p> - -<p>“I fell into the ditch, sir,” replied Heavitree. -“Or, nearly. How’s your hand, sir? Mind you -don’t hit it against anything.”</p> - -<p>“Better go below, sir,” suggested Brandon. -“We haven’t sighted Portland Bill yet. I’ll report -to you when we do.”</p> - -<p>There was a decided streak of obstinacy in Mr. -Grant’s nature and occasionally it asserted itself. -It did now.</p> - -<p>He sat down, still blinking. By this time his -eyes were becoming more accustomed to the sunlight. -He noticed the untidily stowed spinnaker, -then he spotted Eric Little.</p> - -<p>“Who’s that, Brandon?” he asked. “What -is that lad doing here? How did he come -aboard?”</p> - -<p>“Our prize stowaway,” replied the Patrol -Leader.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='130' id='Page_130'></span><h1> CHAPTER XIV <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Peril of the Race</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>L</span>ate</span> in the afternoon the long-looked-for -Portland Bill was sighted—not on the port -bow, but dead ahead. Apparently in the light air -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had been carried by an indraught -slightly to the nor’ard of her proper course. Progress -had been slow, and in consequence she had -lost her tide and was now making very little -against the west-going stream.</p> - -<p>“It will mean another night at sea, lads,” remarked -Mr. Grant, when the Patrol Leader had -reported land in sight. “It will be quite five -hours before we pick up a fair tide, and then, -unless the wind holds, we’ll have to be jolly -careful we aren’t swept into Portland Race.”</p> - -<p>“Let me know the course, sir, and I’ll see she -keeps to it,” declared Brandon. “There’s no -need for you to do anything. How’s your hand -now, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Better,” replied the Scoutmaster, although he -knew perfectly well that it was far from being -right. “I’ll turn out at sunset.”</p> - -<p>“You oughtn’t to, really, sir,” protested Brandon. -“Take it easy to-night. If anything unusual -occurs we’ll give you a call.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant capitulated. He was still feeling “a -bit shaky.” The finger, thanks to action of -numerous poultices, had swollen still more, but -there were no indications of the poison discharging -itself. In these circumstances, an accidental -knock or blow might easily undo all the -good that had been done by fomentation. In -addition, the Scoutmaster “had a temperature,” -although he kept this knowledge to himself, -hoping that in a few hours’ time it would return -to normal.</p> - -<p>“What are we going to do with our stowaway, -sir?” asked Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Send him home from the first place we touch -at,” replied Mr. Grant. “It’s unfortunate we -cannot signal. His grandparents must be very -anxious about him; but we can send a wire from -Swanage.”</p> - -<p>“He’s a queer sort of fellow, isn’t he?” remarked -Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Yes, but it’s hardly his fault. It’s the way -he’s been brought up,” replied the Scoutmaster. -“He uses those somewhat high-brow expressions -quite naturally, because he’s lived in an atmosphere -in which they are spoken. After all, it’s -the same with everyone. A stable boy unconsciously -uses racing slang because he hears it all -around him. A sailor’s expressions are often -unintelligible to landsmen, although his messmates -haven’t the slightest difficulty in understanding -what he says. Often we were at a loss -to know what the Cornish fisherfolk were saying. -Eric Little’s case is much the same, only in a very -much smaller environment. Well, right-o, Brandon. -Carry on, if you will. See that all hands -get a decent meal, then pick your watch and let -the rest turn in.”</p> - -<p>Alive to his responsibilities, Brandon went on -deck, ordered the spinnaker to be taken in, and -set the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> on her new course. He, too, -realised the dangers of being becalmed at night -in the vicinity of that dangerous expanse of turbulent -water known as Portland Race.</p> - -<p>Night came on. The yacht, moving slowly -through the calm water, was steadily losing -ground. Although she was pointing seawards, the -strong tide was sweeping her back. The Bill -appeared to be receding, but there was no likelihood -of losing sight of the powerful high light on -that famous promontory. With the turn of the -tide the leeway would be quickly made up, but -there was the risk of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> being carried -through the Race before she could gain a sufficient -offing to pass it to the south’ard.</p> - -<p>At ten o’clock Mr. Grant came on deck to look -round. It was a perfectly calm night and the -shoreward lights showed up distinctly.</p> - -<p>“We’re still rather close in,” he remarked. -“Those are the lights of Lyme Regis, and more -to the east’ard are those of Bridport. I wish we -had had time to visit Bridport. It’s a picturesque -little place. There used to be a quaint expression: -‘Struck with a Bridport dagger.’ Does anyone -know what that means?”</p> - -<p>There was silence for a few moments; but -before Mr. Grant could explain, Eric Little -replied:</p> - -<p>“I believe I know: it is a colloquial expression -signifying that a person has been -hanged.”</p> - -<p>“Quite right!” exclaimed Mr. Grant approvingly. -“Bridport was noted for rope-making, and -also for sailcloth. Now I’ll tell you something -more, and I wonder if you can explain the reason -for it. Years ago when the rope and sailcloth -industry was at its height most of the flax was -brought to Bridport in Russian vessels. They -used to send the stuff up to the town in boats. -On Saturday nights the Russians made a point of -going into the town, which is some distance from -the harbour. The road between the two places -was lighted with oil lamps. Every time the -Russians returned to their ships these lamps -were afterwards found to be extinguished. -Why?”</p> - -<p>Several suggestions were forthcoming, but at -each of them Mr. Grant shook his head.</p> - -<p>“The Russian sailors drank the oil,” he explained. -“In those days the lamps were filled -with whale-oil, and that was evidently a liquid -appreciated by the Muscovites. . . . Now, Brandon, -send the watch below down. I’ll turn in, since -the skipper insists; but call me at once, if -necessary. Good night!”</p> - -<p>Retaining Heavitree as a deck-hand, Brandon -prepared for his long vigil. The wind showed no -indication of appearing. The sea was as smooth -as glass, save for the occasional ripples caused by -a fish “breaking surface.” For the next two hours -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was left to her own devices, drifting -idly, with the dinghy frequently ranging up alongside -as she swung through all the points of the -compass.</p> - -<p>At midnight a faint haze obscured the bright -light of Portland, which was now about twelve -miles away. Before the light disappeared, Brandon -took a compass-bearing and noted it in the log. -Then he resumed his tedious watch.</p> - -<p>“Four bells!” he announced at length, stirring -the torpid Heavitree with his foot. “You turn -in, now, old son, and tell Peter to come on -watch.”</p> - -<p>“Where are we?” asked Craddock, as he -gained the cockpit.</p> - -<p>Brandon told him, adding the information that -the flood tide had now set in.</p> - -<p>“Haven’t touched the tiller for the last four -hours,” he remarked. “We’re just drifting. This -is where a motor would come in handy. Well, -thank goodness, this isn’t the Doldrums, and we -ought to get a breeze soon.”</p> - -<p>At length came that “darkest hour before the -dawn,” when human vitality is supposed to be at -its lowest ebb. Through the stillness of the night -came a low rumble.</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” asked Peter. “Thunder?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t think so,” replied his chum. “It’s too -prolonged.”</p> - -<p>They listened. The sound continued and -seemed to increase in volume until it reached a -distinct rumbling roar.</p> - -<p>“It must be the Race,” declared Brandon. -“Of course it’s still a long way off, but we’re -being carried into it.”</p> - -<p>“What’s to be done?” asked Peter. -“Anchor?”</p> - -<p>“No use attempting to anchor in over twenty -fathoms,” replied the Patrol Leader. “Let’s get -the sweeps to work. It will be something to do, -and we may get her well clear with an hour’s -steady work. Gently with them; don’t disturb -the other fellows.”</p> - -<p>Carefully the long ash sweeps were placed -in the rowlocks, and by means of steady strokes -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was brought round until the yacht’s -bows pointed sou’-sou’-east. The dinghy’s -painter no longer trailed in the water as the -little boat followed sedately in the wake of her -parent.</p> - -<p>Again the beams of the high light of Portland -pierced the darkness, this time broad on -the port beam. The roar of the Race steadily -increased.</p> - -<p>“Don’t think we’ll clear it,” muttered Brandon -breathlessly, for sweeping the yacht was heavy and -tiring work.</p> - -<p>“I wish it were day,” rejoined Peter. “Then -we could see where we are. How far are we from -the Race, do you think?”</p> - -<p>“Quite near enough,” admitted the Patrol -Leader. “You’d better inform Mr. Grant and -turn out a couple of hands to man the dinghy. -We might be able to tow the yacht as well as -sweep her.”</p> - -<p>Craddock found the Scoutmaster awake. In -fact, Mr. Grant had hardly slept at all. Apart -from the still painful state of his arm his anxiety -as to what might happen on the turn of the tide -had kept him awake. He realised the danger. All -along that dangerous coast there is no harbour for -which a vessel can make for shelter except at or -about the time of high water. True, there is a -smooth passage between the Race and the Bill, -but even then a stranger is apt to get into difficulties -and be swept into the dangerous overfalls -unless he times the attempt at a favourable state -of the tide.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant came on deck.</p> - -<p>“You’ve done all you can, Brandon,” he remarked. -“We may be able to tow her clear. Get -the other fellows out and see that the forehatch -and skylights are well secured. We’ll be having -plenty of green water over our decks before very -long, I fancy.”</p> - -<p>Craddock was about to haul the dinghy -alongside, when he caught sight of the steaming-lights -of a vessel on the starboard quarter. -She was, he judged, about a quarter of a mile -away and heading straight for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. -Above the distant roar of the Race could be distinguished -the steady pulsations of a marine -motor.</p> - -<p>“Show a stern light,” ordered Brandon. “She -won’t be able to see our starboard light.”</p> - -<p>Talbot produced a torch and held it pointing -in the direction of the oncoming vessel. Suddenly -a succession of “E’s” in Morse flashed from the -stranger; then, after a brief pause, came the -question, “What ship is that?”</p> - -<p>“<span class='it'>Kestrel!</span>” signalled Talbot in reply.</p> - -<p>“I hope they’ll be the wiser for that,” remarked -Carline.</p> - -<p>Then, to the astonishment of all on board, the -approaching craft announced her identity as the -<span class='it'>Merlin</span>, and followed up by asking whether the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> wanted a tow.</p> - -<p>“Yes, badly,” was the reply.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the Falmouth Sea Scouts’ -yacht was alongside.</p> - -<p>“So we’ve overhauled you,” remarked Scoutmaster -Pendennis. “We wondered what had -happened. What made you put to sea in a -fog?”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t you get our wire?” countered Mr. -Grant. “But explanations can come later. You’ve -arrived at a very opportune moment.”</p> - -<p>“And how’s that?” asked Mr. Pendennis.</p> - -<p>“We’re in danger of being swept through Portland -Race, and it looks as if you are heading -straight for it.”</p> - -<p>“Are we, by Jove!” ejaculated the Cornishman. -“Yes, I can hear the roar now. Our engine -muffled the sound. Right-o! pass your line. -Course, sou’east?”</p> - -<p>“Sou’-sou’-east would be better,” remarked -Mr. Grant. “ ’Tany rate, day’s breaking, and -we’ll soon see if we’re giving the Race sufficient -berth.”</p> - -<p>“Right-o!” rejoined Scoutmaster Pendennis. -“We’ll do our best, but we’ve only an eight horsepower -engine.”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> forged slowly ahead until she took -up the strain of the tow; then, increasing power, -she whisked the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> along at a steady five -knots.</p> - -<p>“You fellows can turn in again,” said Brandon, -addressing the Sea Scouts who had been routed -out of their bunks.</p> - -<p>But the lads showed no desire to go below. In -the pale grey dawn they remained on deck, -dividing their interest between the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> and a -broad belt of white-foamed water barely a couple -of miles on the port hand. Although the sea -everywhere else was calm, the Race was one -chaotic mass of broken water, roaring like a wild -beast baulked of its prey.</p> - -<p>“Good old <span class='it'>Merlin</span>!” exclaimed Talbot. “She’s -done the trick!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant did not join in the chorus of appreciation. -It was yet too soon to shout. He had his -doubts on the ability of the little motor to carry -out its heavy task; for, although both yachts were -moving in a southerly direction at about five knots, -the now strong flood tide was setting in a nor’-easterly -direction at a good seven miles an hour. -The question that arose was whether the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> -and her tow could draw clear of the Race in time; -although there was some consolation in the fact -that the yachts were no longer in danger of being -carried into the centre of that tempestuous waste -of water.</p> - -<p>Almost imperceptibly the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> began to feel -the influence of the broken waves. Soon she began -to pitch and roll. So did the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>, to the accompaniment -of a series of heavy jerks on the towing -hawser.</p> - -<p>“Why, the Race is coming towards us!” remarked -Symington.</p> - -<p>“No, it isn’t,” rejoined Brandon drily. “We’re -going towards it. Hang on to something solid, -you fellows. We’ll be getting wet shirts in a -brace of shakes. . . . You all right, sir? Mind -that arm!”</p> - -<p>The fellows on the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> had by this time -noticed the danger that threatened them. Two -of her crew hurriedly paid out more hawser, -an act that at first looked as if the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was -about to cast off her well-nigh helpless consort. -Some of the former’s crew who had been sitting -comfortably on the fore-deck came aft hurriedly -when they saw the wall of breaking water -approaching.</p> - -<p>A minute later and both yachts were in the thick -of it. True, it was but the tail end of the dreaded -Race, but the sight of the agitated mass of water -was none the less awesome. At one moment the -<span class='it'>Merlin</span> was towing the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> through a calm -sea; at the next both craft, pitching, heeling, and -staggering, were being assailed by the furious -waves.</p> - -<p>Again and again the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> dipped her bowsprit, -flung her bows high as her stern dropped -into the trough of the sea. Spars and solid gear -rattled, canvas shook and flapped furiously as -boom and gaff, bringing up with disconcerting -jerks, threatened to shake the mast out of her, the -while the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>, similarly assailed, was doing her -best to win through. Suddenly a particularly -vicious breaker surged over her quarter. The -motor stopped. Both yachts were now helpless in -the grip of the dreaded overfalls.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='142' id='Page_142'></span><h1> CHAPTER XV <br/> <span class='sub-head'>“To be Returned in Due Course”</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>T</span>he</span> situation was desperate. The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> -was now a source of peril to the yacht she -had done her best to aid. There was no wind. -The fiercely flapping canvas was useless; equally -out of the question was it to attempt to make use -of the oars, for at one moment the blades would -be high in the air, at another buried by the rush -of the irregular and foaming waves. Held by the -towing hawser, the two yachts were in momentary -danger of colliding as they swung round almost -parallel to each other and with less than five yards -of chaotic water between them.</p> - -<p>In a trice, Brandon realised the danger, made -up his mind, and acted. At the imminent risk of -being either jerked or washed overboard he fought -his way for’ard, hanging on desperately as he -battled towards his goal. One moment thigh deep -in water; at another sprawling on the ridge -formed by the steeply heeling cabin-top, he progressed -foot by foot. With bleeding knees and -broken finger-nails, well-nigh breathless with his -struggle, the Patrol Leader contrived to throw -himself flat upon the heaving fore-deck. Then, -hanging on with his left hand, he succeeded in -casting off the rope that held the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to the -<span class='it'>Merlin</span>.</p> - -<p>Then, obtaining a grip with both hands, -Brandon waited to witness the fruits of his -hazardous task. At first it seemed as if the act -were in vain. The two craft showed no tendency -to drift apart; on the contrary, it looked as if they -would close. Had they done so, the fate of each -would have been sealed, for the strongest yacht -ever built would not be proof against the terrific -hammering of the two hulls in that tumultuous -sea.</p> - -<p>After a few minutes of anxious suspense, the -distance between the two vessels began to increase. -The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> swung round until her bows -pointed in the opposite direction to her previous -course. As she rolled, the crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -could see the Cornish Sea Scouts struggling -desperately in a futile attempt to restart the motor.</p> - -<p>For another five minutes the ordeal continued; -then, almost as suddenly as she had entered the -Race, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> found herself in comparatively -calm water, with the final unwelcome gift of about -fifty gallons of the English Channel being thrown -in her cockpit.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was not long in following her consort’s -example, and, with the roar of the turbulent -overfalls still dinning in their ears, the crews of -both yachts set about repairing the damage done -during their exciting quarter of an hour.</p> - -<p>Owing to the fact that they had missed the most -dangerous part of Portland Race both craft had -come off comparatively lightly. Twenty minutes’ -hard work at the pump freed the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> of the -water that had found its way on board. Her -mizzen-boom had been sprung close to the gooseneck; -one of the panes of the skylight had been -broken; while—worst of all—her dinghy’s top-strake -had been badly smashed owing to the boat -being thrown violently against the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> -quarter.</p> - -<p>Three of the Sea Scouts had received minor -injuries owing to the severe and erratic motion of -the yacht; Eric Little was “down and out” with -sea-sickness; while Molly, the pup, who had been -locked in the saloon, was nearly frantic with joy -when Peter went below to see how she had fared.</p> - -<p>“What’s wrong with your engine?” enquired -Mr. Grant, hailing the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>.</p> - -<p>“Water on plug and in the carburetter,” replied -Scoutmaster Pendennis. “We’ll get her going -soon, I hope. I’ve heard a lot about Portland -Race, but I never expected it to be like that on a -calm day. Hello! what’s the matter with your -hand?”</p> - -<p>“Poisoned it,” explained Mr. Grant. “It’s -getting better now. I say: what do you propose -to do?”</p> - -<p>“We’re carrying on,” replied Pendennis. “We -want to make Yarmouth or Lymington to-day. -We’ll tow you until a breeze springs up.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll have to put into Swanage,” announced -Mr. Grant. “We’ve a stowaway on board and -we want to land him.”</p> - -<p>“How interesting,” rejoined the Cornishman. -“All right, Swanage it is for both of us. -We want more petrol, although we may have -enough to carry us on if the breeze does show -up.”</p> - -<p>Both yachts, now being propelled by sweeps, -were now standing up Channel at a distance of -about ten yards between them, so that the crews -could keep up a running fire of conversation. The -while the Cornish Sea Scouts were tackling the -still refractory motor.</p> - -<p>It was not until the two craft had practically -drifted two miles to the east’ard of the Shambles -Lightship that the long-hoped-for breeze sprang -up—a steady sou’westerly one.</p> - -<p>In grand style the two yachts cut through the -water, heading for the still distant St. Alban’s -Head. In point of speed there was little to choose, -for although the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> had a slightly greater displacement -and carried more canvas, this advantage -was countered by the drag of her now inactive -propeller.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to go through another race, lads,” -observed Mr. Grant at breakfast. “That’s the -one off St. Alban’s, but it won’t be anything like -the one off Portland.”</p> - -<p>“What causes them, sir?” asked Carline.</p> - -<p>“It’s a sort of submarine steeplechase,” explained -the Scoutmaster. “A strong tidal water -sweeping over a fairly deep and level bed of the -sea suddenly encounters a submerged ledge of -rocks. The whole of that mass of water has to -find its way across in less than half the previous -depth, and since the level of the water cannot be -materially increased, the result is that the rate of -the flow of water has to be greatly increased and -causes a succession of overfalls. . . . Well, Eric: -feeling better? Good! Make a decent meal, my -lad, ’cause you’ve a long journey in front of you.”</p> - -<p>“Is it very much further to Chichester?” -asked the youth.</p> - -<p>“We’re sending you home to Dartmouth.”</p> - -<p>“I think you are labouring under a misapprehension, -sir,” rejoined the precocious youth. -“I’m on my way to visit my aunt and uncle at -Chichester—and I won’t go back to Dartmouth! -If you won’t take me, I’ll walk the rest of the -way.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll see,” remarked the Scoutmaster oracularly, -and changed the topic of conversation.</p> - -<p>An hour later the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> and the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> -rounded St. Alban’s Head, where, with the exception -of a sullen swell, there was little to -indicate the locality of the ofttimes dangerous -Race. Followed a run along the rocky coast in -full view of the famous caves where smugglers -and wreckers once plied their infamous trade. -Durlstone Head was left astern and a course -shaped to clear the dangerous Peveril Ledge. -Then the whole expanse of Swanage Bay opened -into view.</p> - -<p>Both yachts anchored in less than seven feet of -water just inside the shelter of Swanage Pier. The -Cornish lads went ashore in their quest for petrol -and provisions, and with them went the Sea Scouts -of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> with the exception of Craddock, -who, with Mr. Grant and the stowaway, remained -on board.</p> - -<p>Brandon was the bearer of a telegraph form on -which Mr. Grant had written: “Have found a -stray grandson; please wire instructions.”</p> - -<p>Having dispatched the wire, the Patrol Leader -and Heavitree made their way towards Peveril -Point in order to give Molly a run on a closely -cropped turf.</p> - -<p>Waiting until a reply might be forthcoming, -Brandon called at the post-office. There was no -answer. After another half-hour had elapsed he -called again, still without success. From the -beach he semaphored the news to Mr. Grant.</p> - -<p>The delay was getting serious. The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was -ready to resume her voyage. There was a fair -wind and tide, but if the start were delayed much -longer a strong adverse tide would be encountered -in the Needles channel, which meant that perhaps -the Sea Scouts would be compelled to spend -another anxious night afloat.</p> - -<p>“You’d better push on, Pendennis,” suggested -Mr. Grant. “We’ll follow and pick you up at -Lymington.”</p> - -<p>The Cornishman fell in with the idea. As a -matter of fact, he particularly wanted to give his -crew a good night’s rest in some sheltered harbour -within The Wight; and, having the West of -England yachtsman’s typical respect for the mudbanks -and erratic tides of the Solent, he did not -relish the possibility of having to navigate that -intricate waterway in the hours of darkness.</p> - -<p>So the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> “carried on.”</p> - -<p>Craddock then semaphored a message to his -chum telling him to remain ashore until one -o’clock, but to keep the other Sea Scouts together -in case they had to re-embark in a hurry.</p> - -<p>It was not until five minutes to the hour that -the expected telegram arrived. It read:</p> - -<p>“Administer suitable chastisement. Return -delinquent at your convenience.”</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster made a wry face when the -telegram was handed him.</p> - -<p>“That merely confirms my opinion, Brandon,” -he remarked in a low voice. “The lad’s grandfather -is not only very precise in his mannerisms; -he is evidently a bit of a martinet. I’ll say this for -Eric: he might be a queer little chap, but he’s -not a sneak. It was only by quite an accident that -I found out that he has been frequently thrashed -for minor offences. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the -child’ might be all very well if carried out with -fairness and moderation—although I very much -doubt the wisdom of personal chastisement, except -under very special circumstances. However, since -Mr. Little gives me a tolerably free hand, I’ll return -the delinquent at my convenience. That is: -we’ll take him along with us, and hand him over -to his uncle at Chichester.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a topping idea, sir!” exclaimed the -Patrol Leader. “We’ll do our best to give the -lad a good time.”</p> - -<p>“Then tell Eric the news,” continued Mr. -Grant. “Or, better, send him down to me. Get -under way as sharp as you can, Brandon. The -<span class='it'>Merlin</span> has a good start, but with luck we ought -to rejoin her before sunset.”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='150' id='Page_150'></span><h1> CHAPTER XVI <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to the Rescue</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>T</span>he Sea Scouts</span> needed no second bidding to -get under way. The remote possibility of -being able to overhaul the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> acted as a spur. -By this time each lad knew his particular duty, -and in very quick time main and mizzen sails were -set, head-sails hoisted in stops, and the cable hove -short.</p> - -<p>Then, at the Patrol Leader’s word of command, -the anchor was weighed and stowed in its -customary place, the jib and staysail were broken -out and trimmed to catch the favouring breeze, -and within five minutes from the order to get -under way the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was heading for the distant -Solent.</p> - -<p>Already the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was hull-down, only her -canvas showing above the skyline. She was -roughly eight miles ahead.</p> - -<p>Outside Swanage Bay the wind freshened, -coming offshore in irregular gusts that swept over -the lofty chalk cliffs of Ballard Down. The tide -was still running to the east’ard with considerable -strength, but there was very little sea to speak of. -Even a sailing dinghy could be out without any -danger of shipping water.</p> - -<p>Presently a craft under sail and motor overtook -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. It was a flat-bottomed contraption -measuring, perhaps, twenty feet in length, and was -propelled by an outboard motor.</p> - -<p>Brandon regarded the boat critically. It certainly -looked a freak. Apparently the designer -had originally intended to give her plenty of beam -and a broad transom; but, changing his mind, -had tapered the stern until it was about nine inches -in width. Consequently, and owing to the weight -of the heavy engine clamped on the stern, the boat -had very little bearing surface aft and a small -amount of freeboard.</p> - -<p>In the stern-sheets sat a fat-faced, smug-looking -individual rigged out in a peaked cap and -blue reefer coat with brass buttons. His profile -reminded Brandon of a parrot, for his nose was -inclined to be hooked, while from underneath a -pair of full lips an insignificant receding chin -heightened the resemblance to a bird. The rest -of the “crew” consisted of three women and two -children. The sheet of the lugsail, Brandon -noticed, was made fast.</p> - -<p>As this freakish craft overhauled the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, -passing her at a distance of about twenty yards to -wind’ard, the brass-buttoned helmsman favoured -the Sea Scouts with a superior sort of smile.</p> - -<p>“What a comic outfit!” exclaimed Craddock -to his chum. “That chap evidently thinks he’s -the goods.”</p> - -<p>“He’s certainly pleased with himself at having -overhauled us,” rejoined the Patrol Leader. “But -wait a bit. There’s a patch of broken water ahead. -Let’s see how that old orange-box will take it.”</p> - -<p>Just then Mr. Grant came on deck. He had -been writing in the cabin, and on hearing the -noise of the motor had glanced through the scuttle. -He, too, had not failed to notice the supercilious -grin on the fellow’s flabby features.</p> - -<p>“That man’s looking for trouble,” he observed. -“There ought to be a ‘Society for the Protection -of Guests of Half-Baked Amateur Marine Motorists.’ -Up helm a little Peter; keep in his wake. -Unless I’m much mistaken, that freak craft will -be in difficulties before very long.”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was now about four hundred yards -to the sou’west of Old Harry, that well-known -chalk pinnacle forming the eastern extremity of -the Isle of Purbeck. The motor boat was by this -time a couple of hundred yards ahead and making -straight for a well-defined tide-rip caused by the -tidal current flowing over a ledge of submerged -rock running out from Standfast Point.</p> - -<p>The greenhorn at the helm of the motor boat -failed to notice the popple of disturbed water. -His attention seemed to be centred upon the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, as if he were still gloating over his superior -speed.</p> - -<p>Soon the boat began to pound heavily. Her -narrow stern dipped. Spray flew over the engine, -putting it out of action. The metal rudder was -totally inadequate to keep the flat-bottomed craft -on its course. A puff of wind filled the sail, -causing the boat to pay off and heel.</p> - -<p>Too late the brass-buttoned novice realised the -danger. When he did, he could do nothing beyond -attempting to restart the engine. His weight -as he leant over the narrow stern made matters -worse. A sea poured completely over the weather -quarter. The boat still lived although half full of -water.</p> - -<p>Panic seized the man. He had lost his yachting -cap—it was floating on the water that swirled over -the bottom-boards—and abject fear was plainly -written on his face, while his long hair streamed -in the breeze.</p> - -<p>The while the sail was taking the full force of -the wind, for no attempt had been made to free -the sheet.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, as the boat shipped more water, the -mast became unshipped and disappeared over the -side, taking the sail with it. The boat, no longer -making way, fell into the trough of the sea and -took in water on both sides.</p> - -<p>“Cut away your gear and ride to it!” shouted -Brandon, for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was now within hailing -distance.</p> - -<p>The advice, intelligible to anyone acquainted -with even an elementary knowledge of seamanship, -was lost as far as the bewildered and panic-stricken -owner of the motor boat was concerned. -He could only wave his arms wildly and shout for -help. The women, although obviously badly -scared, at least had the sense to keep still.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster glanced at Brandon and -nodded. The Patrol Leader understood. It was -a silent intimation that he was to exercise his discretion -in the operation of bringing the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -alongside the fast-foundering boat.</p> - -<p>“Stand by to go about!” ordered Brandon.</p> - -<p>Two of the Sea Scouts jumped to tend the head-sheets. -Heavitree, boat-hook in hand, took up his -station at the main-shrouds. Craddock was at the -tiller. The others stood by ready to help the -“crew” of the motor boat into safety.</p> - -<p>“Up helm a bit . . . at that!” exclaimed -Brandon.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, with the wind well abaft the beam, -flew past the now almost waterlogged boat. Mistaking -the nature of the manœuvre, the brass-buttoned -man waved his arms in redoubled -frenzy and literally howled when he thought the -ketch was leaving him to his fate.</p> - -<p>Brandon knew quite well what he was doing. -To attempt to bring the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> alongside with a -quartering wind would result in the boat being -crushed, or at least it would have been impossible -to get a hold and retain it. There was only one -course practicable, and that was to run to lee’ard, -go about, and shoot up into the wind, losing way -within a few feet of the object for succour.</p> - -<p>“Lee-o!” exclaimed Brandon, loudly and -clearly.</p> - -<p>Peter put the helm down. Talbot and Symington -let fly the jib and foresail sheets; while Wilson -hauled away at the slack of the mainsheet. Still -keeping the tiller hard over, Craddock attended -to the mizzen-sheet.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> came about as gracefully as her -namesake, turning slowly and unfalteringly. Then, -kept down in the eye of the wind, she forged ahead -with gradually diminishing way until Heavitree -could grip the gunwale of the motor boat with -the boat-hook.</p> - -<p>By this time the boat had been swamped. Her -stern, weighted down by the outboard engine, was -six feet beneath the surface, while the bows, kept -afloat by the air under the fore-deck, were about -a couple of feet above water. To the still floating -portion the “crew” clung, while the owner, his -face green with terror, abandoned his waterlogged -craft and made a jump for the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> shrouds. -Forgetting the difficulties of “taking off” from -a submerged platform, he leapt short but continued -to grip the rail. There he hung, submerged -to his shoulders, puffing like a grampus as he -struggled in vain to haul himself on board the yacht.</p> - -<p>The sight of the selfish, cowardly man made -Mr. Grant lose his temper—a thing he rarely did. -He realised that with the fellow’s bulk between -the yacht’s side and the sinking motor boat the -difficulty of getting the rest of the party on board -was enormously increased. Time, too, was -precious, for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> would soon “pay off” -and gather way, in which case the manœuvre of -getting alongside the waterlogged craft would -have to be repeated.</p> - -<p>“Let go, you idiot!” roared the Scoutmaster. -“Haven’t you heard of ‘women and children -first’?”</p> - -<p>The man refused to do so.</p> - -<p>“Stamp on his fingers, Heavitree!” exclaimed -Mr. Grant, realising that if a calamity likely to -become a fatality were to be avoided, drastic -measures were absolutely imperative.</p> - -<p>Heavitree was unable to carry out these instructions. -All his efforts were concentrated upon an -attempt to retain a hold on the boat and to prevent -it sinking still further as the women strove to raise -themselves out of the water.</p> - -<p>Just then the partly submerged boat surged -against the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> side. The craven owner’s -generous proportions acted as an animated fender, -but the shock well-nigh winded him and caused -him to relax his grip.</p> - -<p>In a trice Talbot grasped him by his long hair -and dragged him aft, where Craddock assisted in -hauling the man on deck.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Brandon and Symington set to work -like Trojans to tranship the badly scared women -and children. They were not a moment too soon. -The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was forging ahead.</p> - -<p>“I can’t hold her much longer, sir!” exclaimed -Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“Let her go,” replied Mr. Grant briefly.</p> - -<p>Heavitree disengaged the boat-hook. The -swamped motor boat drifted astern. Bubbles of -air were escaping from the uptilted fore-deck.</p> - -<p>“Shall we have a shot at salving her?” asked -Brandon.</p> - -<p>The Scoutmaster shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Let her go,” he replied. “She won’t have -another chance to drown anyone. . . . There she -goes! Bon voyage!”</p> - -<p>The freak craft disappeared from view. Mr. -Grant glanced dispassionately at the late owner, -who was still in an abject state.</p> - -<p>“The yellow streak has shown itself, I notice,” -remarked the Scoutmaster. “Well, it’s no use -asking <span class='it'>him</span> questions. We’ll have to land the crew -somewhere. I wonder where they came from?”</p> - -<p>“Where shall we make for, sir?” asked -Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Studland,” replied Mr. Grant. “It’s just -round the corner. Give that point a wide berth.”</p> - -<p>With a fair tide and beam wind, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -opened into the wide expanse of Studland Bay. -It would have meant a tedious beat shorewards -owing to the cliffs blanketing the wind, but fortunately -a motor passenger-boat happened to be -leaving the shore, and in response to a semaphored -message she ran alongside the yacht.</p> - -<p>Five minutes later the still considerably scared -survivors of the sunken boat were transhipped to -the passenger craft, and the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, running before -the wind, resumed her attempt to overhaul -the far-distant <span class='it'>Merlin</span>.</p> - -<p>By this time Mr. Grant had recovered his -customary even temper.</p> - -<p>“After all, perhaps the silly ass couldn’t help -being in a fearful funk,” he remarked. “When -all’s said and done, bravery largely consists of -being afraid of being afraid. . . . What’s that, -Wilson? They’ve made the saloon slopping wet? -Well, mop it up. That’ll be another Good Turn -to your credit.”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='159' id='Page_159'></span><h1> CHAPTER XVII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Becalmed</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>W</span>ith</span> all sail set, even the topsail and -spinnaker, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> tore through the -water, shaping a course to pass one mile to the -south’ard of Hengistbury Head, a bold promontory -situated roughly midway between Old Harry -and the Needles.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was no longer in sight. In vain -Brandon, with a pair of binoculars, swung round -his neck, went aloft, where, perched on the cross-trees, -he brought his glasses to bear upon a limited -expanse of horizon that showed between the -straining canvas. He could see the brown sails -of half a dozen fishing boats and the smoke of a -steamer, but of the Cornish Sea Scouts’ craft not -a sign.</p> - -<p>“They’ve too good a pair of heels for us,” he -remarked, when he regained the deck.</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” asked Heavitree, pointing -slightly on the starboard bow. “There’s something -white. Isn’t that the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> sails?”</p> - -<p>“I believe you’re right,” said Carline. “Only -she’s a long way out. Let me have the glasses, -Brandon.”</p> - -<p>The Patrol Leader handed over the binoculars. -Carline levelled them at the supposed cloud of -canvas.</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s a white cliff rising out of the sea,” -he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Yes, the Isle of Wight,” explained Brandon. -“It puzzled me at first. From the cross-trees I -could make out the Needles. If——”</p> - -<p>A dull thud that shook the yacht from truck to -keel interrupted the Patrol Leader’s words. For -a brief instant the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> seemed to stop dead. -It might have been only an illusion, but everyone -on deck thought so.</p> - -<p>“We’re aground!” exclaimed Talbot.</p> - -<p>Brandon glanced over the side. The yacht was -still carrying way and lifting easily to the waves.</p> - -<p>“There’s plenty of water everywhere,” he replied. -“We must have struck something, though.”</p> - -<p>The jar brought Mr. Grant on deck to see what -was amiss.</p> - -<p>“We struck something pretty heavy,” he remarked. -“Nip below, Peter, and look under the -floorboards in the fo’c’sle. She may have strained -a plank.”</p> - -<p>Craddock did so. He had not been gone more -than a few seconds when the reason of the alarm -became evident. About a hundred yards on the -starboard quarter an enormous porpoise broke -surface, followed by another. Both animals were -badly scared, for they promptly dived and were -not seen again.</p> - -<p>Presently Peter returned with the information -that the yacht was as tight as a bottle. Thanks -to her heavy build she had escaped damage, -although a vessel with slighter scantlings might -easily have had her bow planking stove in.</p> - -<p>At length Hengistbury Head was brought -abeam, and for ten minutes the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had a -pretty stiff hammering over Christchurch Ledge. -By this time the Needles and the multi-coloured -cliffs of Alum Bay were clearly discernible, while -right ahead rose the slender tower of Hurst Castle -lighthouse.</p> - -<p>“Look!” exclaimed Talbot. “Isn’t that the -<span class='it'>Merlin</span>?”</p> - -<p>He pointed to a yacht about three miles dead -ahead. Brandon brought the binoculars into -action.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you’re right, Talbot,” he replied. “It -is the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. She’s becalmed.”</p> - -<p>“Then, we may overhaul her yet,” said Wilson.</p> - -<p>“She’ll use her motor,” declared Craddock.</p> - -<p>“If they can get the thing to go,” added -Brandon. “But it’s rather strange. Here we are -busting along with every stitch of canvas drawing, -and they haven’t a breath of wind. The sea’s as -smooth as glass a mile ahead.”</p> - -<p>As far as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was concerned the breeze -held strong and true until she drew within a -hundred yards of the Cornish Sea Scouts’ craft. -Then the wind failed utterly. In the grip of the -now adverse tide both yachts began to lose ground. -Ahead and only three miles away lay the Solent—looking -alluring and peaceful in the rays of the -late afternoon sun. Without the aid of a steady -and favourable breeze or that of a powerful motor -the two yachts were not likely to gain their desired -harbour during the next six hours.</p> - -<p>Keeping her now useless canvas set, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -dropped anchor. The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> continued to drift -until she came abreast of the Aberstour Sea Scouts’ -craft; then she, too, let go her anchor.</p> - -<p>“You were lucky to carry a breeze so long,” -shouted the Patrol Leader of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. “We’ve -been becalmed for quite two hours. We got -within a quarter of a mile of the lighthouse when -the tide changed. Look where we are now!”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you use your motor?” asked -Craddock.</p> - -<p>“We haven’t been able to get the thing going,” -was the reply. “We’ve been trying all day, and -we haven’t given up hope yet, although we do feel -a bit fed up.”</p> - -<p>“Can I give you a hand?” asked Peter, who -possessed a sound knowledge of internal combustion -engines.</p> - -<p>“If you will,” replied the Cornish Patrol -Leader.</p> - -<p>Craddock jumped into the dinghy, cast off the -painter, and rowed to the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. It required a -considerable amount of hard rowing, for the tide -was now swirling past and the dinghy was large -and heavy.</p> - -<p>“What have you done?” he enquired, as he -gained the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> deck.</p> - -<p>“Tried everything,” was the reply. “The -mag.’s all right; there’s quite a healthy spark, -but she won’t even fire her dope.”</p> - -<p>Peter made the usual preliminary tests. Pouring -a few drops of petrol into the plug and placing -the latter on the cylinder, he found that the spirit -ignited readily enough; but, as the Patrol Leader -had said, the “dope” would not fire when the -plug was in position.</p> - -<p>“Tried a spare plug?” asked Craddock.</p> - -<p>“Four—no good,” was the terse and emphatic -reply.</p> - -<p>Carefully overhauling the high-tension wire, -Peter called attention to the fact that the insulation -was rather worn at a spot where the wire crossed -one of the bearers of the cockpit floor.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed the Cornish lad, “I noticed -that; but if there is a short there’d be no spark -at all. As it is, the plug has quite a healthy -spark.”</p> - -<p>“Well, try now,” suggested Craddock. “No; -don’t replace the floorboards. Stand astride of -the gap.”</p> - -<p>At the first swing of the starting handle the -motor fired and continued to do so, “ticking -over” with the throttle only just open.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m dashed!” ejaculated the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> -engineer. “What did you do?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” replied Peter. “Now replace the -floorboards.”</p> - -<p>As soon as the rectangular-shaped woodwork -was placed in position the motor stopped.</p> - -<p>“That beats me!” remarked the Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>“There’s your trouble,” declared Craddock, -removing and overturning the floorboard. “See -that steel plate?”</p> - -<p>He pointed to the double strip of metal forming -the edge of a slot to take the reversing lever.</p> - -<p>“It’s bearing directly upon the high-tension -wire, and the continual vibration has damaged the -insulation. The motor fired when the floorboard -was up, but when it was in position the -metal touched the wire and caused a short circuit. -Wrap some insulating tape round the wire—it -would be as well to cut a notch in that beam to -let the wire bed itself better—and you won’t have -any more bother.”</p> - -<p>“My word! You’re a smart fellow!” exclaimed -the other, with frank admiration.</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” protested Craddock. “You see, -I had exactly the same trouble once on board our -old boat, the <span class='it'>Puffin</span>, and I had to get another -fellow to put it right.”</p> - -<p>“ ’Tany rate, you’ve done a very Good Turn,” -declared Mr. Pendennis. “We’ll try and return -it by giving the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> a tow. I don’t say that -we’ll succeed against this tide, but we’ll have a -good shot at it.”</p> - -<p>The Falmouth Scoutmaster hailed the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>“I say, Grant!” he exclaimed. “We’re going -to give you a tow. Do you know your way in? -I don’t, except for the directions in the ‘Channel -Pilot’; but which is Fort Victoria? Look here, -do you mind coming on board and piloting us?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant accepted the invitation. Craddock -returned to the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, and preparations were -made to pass a hawser from the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> to the -other yacht. Both anchors were weighed simultaneously -and the strenuous effort began.</p> - -<p>Slowly yet surely the two vessels approached -Hurst Channel. Ahead could be seen a confused -turmoil of broken sea as the pent-up water of the -Solent forced its way through the narrow passage -between Hurst Castle and the Isle of Wight.</p> - -<p>It was now that local knowledge came in most -usefully. Except for one point ominously named -“The Trap,” the beach at Hurst Castle is steep-to, -the depth increasing to fifteen fathoms within -a few yards of the shore. By keeping close in, -Mr. Grant knew that the full force of the tide -would not only be avoided, but that there would -also be found a tidal eddy in their favour.</p> - -<p>“You can rely upon the motor, I hope?” he -enquired. “If it should go wrong, we’ll find -ourselves in a very dangerous situation.”</p> - -<p>Receiving an assurance on that point, Mr. -Grant ordered the helm to be starboarded a -little.</p> - -<p>Gradually the slow progress increased until, -aided by the counter-current, the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> and the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> seemed to jump ahead. They were now -within their own length of the beach. Ahead lay -“The Trap,” and off it a broiling tide which, if -it caught the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> on her port bow, would -swing her out into the full strength of the ebb.</p> - -<p>Edging cautiously, the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> approached the -crucial spot. She appeared to stop dead. The -strain on the towing hawser eased. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -continued to decrease her distance, making -straight for the dangerous ledge. To Brandon -at the helm it seemed as if a titanic hand was -gripping the keel and shaking the whole boat. -He could do nothing. The rudder seemed useless, -and yet the yacht was heading for destruction.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> forged ahead. She had -crawled past the dangerous point and was now -aided by a favourable eddy. With a staggering -jerk the hawser took up the strain. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -leapt ahead, her keel missing the steeply shelving -ledge by inches.</p> - -<p>In another five minutes both craft were stemming -the relatively weak tide off the mud-flats of -the Hampshire shore.</p> - -<p>“Near thing that,” remarked Heavitree. “I -thought we should have had to have jumped for -it that time.”</p> - -<p>“If we had, we should have stood as much -chance as a mouse in a pail of water,” rejoined -Brandon, glancing at the maelstrom astern. “Next -time I think I’d rather wait till the tide turns.”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='168' id='Page_168'></span><h1> CHAPTER XVIII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Admiral</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“W</span>hat’s</span> that fellow staring at us for?” -asked Talbot.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Symington carelessly, -as he stooped to put a final polish on his -shore-going boots. “It’s the thing to do afloat. -Everyone does, and it’s taken as a sort of compliment -to the craft you happen to be aboard.”</p> - -<p>“But, just you look at him,” persisted -Talbot.</p> - -<p>It was the morning following the arrival of the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> and the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> in Lymington River. Both -craft were brought up on Long Reach and just -above the second beacon. As the east-going tide -would not run before the afternoon, and as it was -almost a hopeless proposition to attempt to stem -the adverse tide, the crews of both boats had -arranged to go ashore in the forenoon, and were -consequently “smartening themselves up” for -the occasion.</p> - -<p>Symington gave a casual glance. Then he -looked a second time. Evidently Talbot’s wonder -was justifiable, for breasting the ebb-tide was an -open, centre-board sailing boat in the stern-sheets -of which sat the only occupant.</p> - -<p>He was a bronzed-complexioned man of about -forty, with iron-grey hair and a white “torpedo” -beard. His beetling brows were conspicuous by -their long, white hairs, overhanging dark and -deep-set eyes. He wore a blue reefer suit and a -peaked cap cocked at a rakish angle over one eye. -As Talbot had remarked, he was staring—although -it looked more like a glare—straight at the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had anchored about fifty yards -lower down the stream than the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>, and was -in consequence nearer to the approaching boat.</p> - -<p>Even as Symington looked the bearded man put -his helm down with the evident intention of -coming alongside.</p> - -<p>“Someone to see you, sir!” he announced, -addressing Mr. Grant, who had just finished -shaving.</p> - -<p>The rest of the crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> came on -deck. Talbot and Carline stood by with fenders; -Symington prepared to take the stranger’s painter; -while the others lined up behind Mr. Grant, -standing smartly at “alert.”</p> - -<p>But instead of running alongside the man let -his sheets fly, with the result that the boat lost -way and, only just stemming the tide, remained -practically level with the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>Then he stood up, almost bursting blood-vessels -in his unaccountable anger.</p> - -<p>“Confound you, sir!” he roared. “Don’t -you know who I am?”</p> - -<p>“ ’Fraid I don’t,” replied Mr. Grant mildly. -“Unless,” he added cheerfully, “unless you are -the harbour master.”</p> - -<p>“Insolence, sir! Rank insolence!” blared the -man. “Why don’t you salute? Why haven’t -you dipped your ensign? I’m the Admiral commanding -the Atlantic Fleet!”</p> - -<p>For a moment the Scoutmaster was nonplussed. -Obviously the enraged individual was a lunatic -and possibly a dangerous one. The situation had -to be handled delicately. The best thing to do, -he decided, was to humour the man. Fortunately -the crew had taken their cue from their Scoutmaster -and had refrained from roaring with -laughter.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry, sir,” said Mr. Grant. “I failed -to recognise you.”</p> - -<p>“That’s no excuse,” stormed the man. “You’ve -failed to pay proper respect to your commanding -officer, sir! Consider yourself under arrest!”</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir,” replied the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>The while he was working out a very difficult -problem. If the intruder were as fierce as he -looked—and in spite of his age he was active and -muscular—he was a positive danger. Perhaps -before the united efforts of the Sea Scouts could -place him under restraint he might inflict severe -injuries on some of them. Handicapped by his -injured hand, Mr. Grant realised that he could -do little from a physical point of view.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, he could not continue to -temporise indefinitely. If Mr. Pendennis could -be communicated with, without exciting the man’s -suspicions, something might be done, for the -Cornish Scoutmaster was a huge, hefty fellow -with no small reputation as a wrestler in a county -where wrestling as a sport holds a high position.</p> - -<p>Just then the madman noticed that his boat was -adrift. He had neglected to make fast the painter, -and owing to his strange behaviour the Sea Scouts -had not given the boat a thought. Already the -little sailing craft, with her sails still out, was -drifting to lee’ard.</p> - -<p>“Quartermaster of the Watch!” shouted the -intruder. “Who gave you orders to take my -barge from the——”</p> - -<p>He paused abruptly. In his disordered brain -was a faint realisation that there was no accommodation -ladder to this craft. Its absence puzzled -him.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he grasped Carline by the shoulder -and hurled him overboard. It was done so swiftly -and unexpectedly that no one had time to raise -even a finger to attempt to prevent it; but the -next instant Brandon and Craddock threw themselves -upon the madman.</p> - -<p>There was little room on the waterway for a -struggle—merely a space of about thirty inches -between the raised cabin-top and the side of the -yacht; but in spite of limited surroundings the -affray was a strenuous one.</p> - -<p>To the credit of the two Sea Scouts it must be -recorded that neither lost his temper, in spite of -the fact that they had seen Carline tossed into the -ditch.</p> - -<p>The madman fought desperately, using his fists -successfully. It was evident that he had been a -trained boxer; yet there was wanting the necessary -co-operation between the brain and his fists.</p> - -<p>Contenting himself with parrying the man’s -deliberate blows, the Patrol Leader kept his -opponent busy while Craddock contrived to get -behind the infuriated intruder. Then, gripping -the man round his waist, Peter threw him on his -back upon the cabin-top.</p> - -<p>The struggle was not yet over. Again and -again the maniac sought to regain his feet. -Wrenching one arm free, he struck out. Brandon -gripped him by the wrist and held on. Still the -man resisted; yet notwithstanding his fury he -made no effort to use his feet against his youthful -antagonists.</p> - -<p>He was visibly tiring. So were Brandon and -Craddock, but not to such an extent. It was then -that Heavitree joined in the fray. Deftly passing -a rope round the madman’s ankle and taking a -turn with the end to one of the runners, he soon -had the man reduced to a state of helplessness; -while Brandon completed the business by securing -the fellow’s arms behind his back with his scarf.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile one of the crew of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> who -happened to be on deck had raised the alarm, and -the yacht’s dinghy, manned by four Sea Scouts, -with Mr. Pendennis in the stern-sheets, came at -top speed towards the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>At the same time Carline was returning with -the maniac’s boat. Finding himself overboard, -the Sea Scout thought that since he was in the -water he might just as well secure the drifting -boat. This he did. Then, lowering the centre-board -and trimming the sheets, he sailed the little -craft alongside the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> just as the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> -dinghy arrived upon the scene.</p> - -<p>“Hello! What’s the trouble?” enquired -Scoutmaster Pendennis.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant tapped his forehead significantly.</p> - -<p>“Is that so?” continued the Cornishman. -“Poor fellow! I wonder where he came from. -As a matter of fact, I thought you’d had a visit -from the escaped convict. Haven’t you heard? -It’s in this morning’s paper. A prisoner got away -from Parkhurst yesterday afternoon. It is supposed -that he stole a boat and crossed to the -mainland. There’s a boat missing at Yarmouth. -Any damage done?”</p> - -<p>Brandon and Craddock, breathing heavily, -shook their heads. Heavitree had barked his -knuckles in the struggle, but decided that “it was -nothing to write home about.” The madman, -exhausted by his efforts, was lying comparatively -still, but apparently uninjured.</p> - -<p>The rapid beats of a steamer’s paddles caused -a general rush to fend off the boats lying alongside -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. One of the passenger boats -plying between Yarmouth and Lymington was -coming up the river and throwing out a tremendous -wash. Further down stream anchored -yachts were rolling heavily in the breaking swell, -while tons of water were receding from the mud-flats -in advance of the quickly moving vessel.</p> - -<p>As she passed, one of the passengers standing -aft noticed the bound figure on the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> deck -and called his companions’ attention to it. Then, -raising his hands trumpet-wise to his mouth, he -shouted:</p> - -<p>“We’ll come for him as soon as we can.”</p> - -<p>The steamer continued on her way to the pier, -leaving the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> rolling so heavily in her swell -that Heavitree had to steady the helpless captive -lest he should be jerked overboard.</p> - -<p>Half an hour later a large rowing boat with a -boatman and the two passengers from the steamer -came alongside.</p> - -<p>“So you’ve got him, sir,” said one of the latter. -“I hope he didn’t give you much trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Not much,” replied Mr. Grant. “Who is -he?”</p> - -<p>The attendant, for such he was, explained. -The madman was an inmate of a private mental -hospital a few miles from Yarmouth. Usually he -was quite docile, but there were occasions when -he became violent. More than once by a display -of considerable cunning he had broken out of the -establishment, and invariably he had made his -way to the little seaport and had taken possession -of an unattended boat.</p> - -<p>“We guessed he’d be making for Lymington,” -continued the man. “When I heard Mr. Lucas’s -boat was missing, I said to my mate, ‘The -Admiral’s up to his old trick again.’ We call him -The Admiral, because he’s always under the -delusion that he is one. Of course, the police -must come to the conclusion that the boat was -taken by the fellow who got away from Parkhurst -yesterday, though I told them they were wrong. -A desperate chap, six foot one such as he is, -wouldn’t risk showing himself in Yarmouth, if -he wanted to steal a boat. Glad we didn’t come -across him when we were looking for The Admiral -last night. He’s serving a long term for house-breaking -with violence, and I don’t envy the -policeman who has to tackle him. Well, sir, -we’ll take charge of The Admiral, if you don’t -mind.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t mind in the least,” replied Mr. Grant. -“I suppose he won’t give trouble?”</p> - -<p>“Bless you, no, sir!” declared the attendant. -“He’ll be as quiet as a lamb. Come on, Admiral!” -he continued, addressing the subject of his search. -“There’s a rehearsal this afternoon, and what will -happen if the first violin isn’t there?”</p> - -<p>So saying, he removed the madman’s bonds and -helped him to his feet. The unfortunate man -stepped into the waiting boat as quietly as any -ordinary individual.</p> - -<p>“How about this?” enquired the Scoutmaster, -pointing to the sailing boat.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be along to take charge of her, sir,” said -the boatman. “You won’t be getting under way -afore the flood tide, I’ll allow?”</p> - -<p>With the departure of the attendants and their -charge, Mr. Pendennis prepared to return to his -own craft.</p> - -<p>“We won’t be starting before two o’clock, I -suppose,” he remarked. “We’ll carry our tide -right through to Chichester. Ought to get there -by eight with the breeze. By the way, how’s that -hand of yours, Grant? Oughtn’t you to see a -doctor and get it lanced?”</p> - -<p>“No need,” replied Mr. Grant. “The poison’s -out and the wound is healing nicely. It will be -all right in a day or so. Now, lads! Who’s for -the shore?”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='177' id='Page_177'></span><h1> CHAPTER XIX <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Convict</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>I</span>f,</span> on leaving Lymington River, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> -hadn’t run on the mud; if the tide had not -changed and the wind fallen light; and if the -<span class='it'>Merlin</span> had not run out of petrol: then the Sea -Scouts might have found themselves at the -rendezvous for the Jamboree at eight o’clock -that evening.</p> - -<p>It was a combination of adverse circumstances. -Running the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> aground was excusable -but hardly avoidable. Many a yachtsman with -local knowledge has done much the same, for the -beacons, instead of marking the edge of the -channel, are some distance away from it and well -up on the mud. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> “took the putty” -badly and, in spite of the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> efforts to tow -her off, she remained there for nearly two hours.</p> - -<p>The change of the direction of the tidal stream -and the dropping of the wind, which finally -backed to due east, were conditions for which the -Sea Scouts could not be held responsible; but -the same could not be said in excuse for the -<span class='it'>Merlin</span> running out of petrol.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, the Sea Scout in charge of -the motor had examined the gauge of the petrol -tank, which registered eight gallons. Unfortunately -the indicator had stuck, and the actual -amount when the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> went to her consort’s -assistance was only one gallon. It was now <span class='it'>nil</span>.</p> - -<p>This discovery was made when the two yachts -were abreast of Egypt Point and within a mile or -so of Cowes Harbour. In vain they attempted to -beat up for that anchorage. Gripped by the -steadily increasing foul tide they were rapidly -swept down the Solent until, realising that any -further efforts would only result in their being -carried more to the west’ard, they dropped anchor -off Newtown River.</p> - -<p>“There’s a hamlet called Newtown and another -place called Shalfleet,” observed Mr. Pendennis, -after consulting the chart. “We may be able to -get petrol at one of them. Are any of your fellows -coming ashore with us?”</p> - -<p>“We may as well go if we leave a couple of -hands to look after the yachts,” replied Mr. -Grant. “The glass is steady and the tide won’t -change for another five hours. It’s good holding -ground, and there’s no fear of either craft dragging -her anchor. Right-o! Who’ll volunteer to -remain?”</p> - -<p>Craddock and Heavitree offered to act as ship-keepers. -Two Cornish Sea Scouts also elected to -stay on board the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. The others manned the -two dinghies and prepared to make for the mouth -of the river.</p> - -<p>“How about Molly?” asked Brandon. “Shall -we take her?”</p> - -<p>The pup showed such a disinclination to go in -the boat that she was left behind. Usually she -was quite excited at the sight of the dinghy being -manned, and was one of the first to scramble over -the gunwale. But that was only when Craddock -was to form one of the party. She was fond of -everyone on board, even Eric Little; but she was -devoted to Peter. Where he went she would go, -but if he remained on board it required forcible -abduction to get the pup into the boat.</p> - -<p>Left to themselves, Craddock and Heavitree -had quite an enjoyable afternoon. They fished, -exchanged semaphore and Morse messages with -the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> ship-keepers, wrote letters, and -watched passing shipping.</p> - -<p>Six o’clock came, but there were no signs of -the two dinghies. The Sea Scouts had tea, -washed up and stowed away the things, and came -on deck again. Still the absent members of the -two crews failed to put in an appearance.</p> - -<p>“What’s happened to the others?” asked Peter, -hailing the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps they can’t find a garage or a place -where they sell petrol,” replied one of the Falmouth -lads. “I’ve been aloft to look, but there’s -only a small part of the harbour to be seen. It -runs away behind that hill to the right of the -entrance.”</p> - -<p>“More likely they are high and dry on the -mud,” added Heavitree. “Ah, well! We aren’t -lonely, and we aren’t idle. I’ve caught enough -fish for supper for all hands.”</p> - -<p>“If they are aground they can hardly be -blamed for that,” continued the Cornish Sea -Scout. “These tides are fair puzzlers. Down -our way we’re satisfied with two tides a day; -here people get four.”</p> - -<p>Craddock agreed. It was his first experience -of the coast between Cowes and Weymouth, -where a second high water follows the first at -anything from two to four hours later. He had -also been used to a rise and fall of about eighteen -feet. Here the range of tide seemed to be about -six feet.</p> - -<p>At sunset the main ebb was almost done. The -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, anchored nearer in shore than the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>, -was within fifty yards of the now exposed gravel -banks. Taking soundings, Peter found that the -depth was a fathom and a half.</p> - -<p>“So we won’t ground at low tide,” he remarked -to his chum. “There’s nothing to worry about. -Let’s go below and make ourselves snug. It’s -pretty nippy this evening.”</p> - -<p>Having lighted the riding-lamp and hoisted it -on the forestay the two lads retired to the saloon. -Soon they were making a literary feast, devouring -the pages of their favourite weekly paper. Breathlessly -they followed the fearfully exciting adventures. -The flight of time passed unheeded. -They had almost forgotten their immediate surroundings -in visualising a stalwart sergeant riding -hot-foot across the boundless prairie in close -pursuit of a much-wanted desperado.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, Molly gave a low growl.</p> - -<p>“Quiet, little girl!” exclaimed Peter.</p> - -<p>But the pup refused to keep still. Clambering -up the three broad steps leading from the saloon -to the cockpit, she changed her growl to a succession -of shrill barks of defiance.</p> - -<p>“What’s up, I wonder?” remarked Heavitree, -coming back to earth, or rather to his floating -home. “Are the others returning?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t think so,” replied Peter, preparing to -go on deck. “Molly’s welcome is very different -from that.”</p> - -<p>On gaining the cockpit Craddock stared in bewilderment. -It was some moments before he -grew accustomed to the change from the well -lighted cabin to the faint moonlight. When he -did he was all the more puzzled, for, instead of -land showing a few hundred yards to starboard, -there was nothing but an expanse of sea dotted -with the flashing light of numerous buoys. Then -he looked to port. There was the land—the low-lying -ground to the east of the entrance of Newtown -River. He had completely ignored the fact -that the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had swung to the young flood -tide.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Molly?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The pup, crouching with her forepaws planted -against the low rail, was barking furiously at a -dark object floating in the water at less than ten -yards from the yacht’s bows. In the faint moonlight -Craddock saw that it was a basket drifting -bottom upwards.</p> - -<p>“That’s nothing, pup,” declared the lad. -“Haven’t you seen a drifting basket before?”</p> - -<p>But Molly would not be silenced. She seemed -to be fascinated by the derelict wickerwork.</p> - -<p>Then Craddock began to be interested, too. -And for a very good reason: the basket was not -drifting with the tide. It was moving decidedly -against it and slowly yet surely approaching the -<span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> bows.</p> - -<p>“Come on deck, old man,” said Peter to his -chum, in a low voice; but Heavitree, who had -resumed his absorbing pastime, either did not -hear or did not want to.</p> - -<p>Presently the basket disappeared from Peter’s -range of vision. From where he was standing in -the cockpit he could not see the surface of the -water in the vicinity of the yacht’s bows. He -heard the rasping of the wickerwork against the -<span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> side, and once more the basket appeared -in view, bobbing astern and now drifting naturally -with the tide.</p> - -<p>Molly’s bark grew louder and shriller. She -had lost all interest in the basket and was -directing her attention to something under the -bows.</p> - -<p>Before Craddock could go for’ard to investigate, -the dripping head and shoulders of a man -appeared above the rail. Then, obtaining a foothold -on the bobstay, the intruder swung himself -on the fore-deck, stood up, and steadied himself -by means of the forestay.</p> - -<p>“Get that there dawg of yourn out of it afore -I ’as to ’urt it,” he growled.</p> - -<p>In the semi-darkness the stranger seemed to -tower to a great height. Actually he was well -over six feet, though narrow across the chest. He -was clean-shaven, and wore an overcoat that was -many inches too short for him. He was bare-legged, -and it looked as if he were wearing shorts. -Water drained steadily from his meagre and -saturated garments.</p> - -<p>“Come here, Molly!” exclaimed Peter, fearful -lest the intruder should carry out the alternative -he had mentioned.</p> - -<p>The pup still refused.</p> - -<p>The man, stooping suddenly, grasped the -animal by the scruff of the neck and stepped aft -as far as the mainmast.</p> - -<p>“Ketch!” he said laconically. “Don’t want -to ’urt no dawg, I don’t.”</p> - -<p>With that he tossed the pup into Craddock’s -hands, throwing her so gently that, beyond being -frightened, no harm was done to her.</p> - -<p>“Naw,” continued the intruder, “me an’ you -are goin’ for a nice little cruise-like. ’Tain’t no -use kickin’. I’ve been a-watchin’ yer, an’ I knows -there’s only two of you. Ask for no trouble an’ -you’ll get none. Got me?”</p> - -<p>Just then Heavitree, hearing voices, was about -to come on deck. To him Peter handed the pup.</p> - -<p>“Lock her up and get back here as soon as -you can,” he whispered.</p> - -<p>Then he addressed the intruder. Already he -had no doubt as to the fellow’s identity. The ill-fitting -overcoat failed to conceal a rough suit of -grey cloth liberally bedecked with broad arrows. -Obviously this was the convict under sentence for -robbery with violence, and in all probability he -would not hesitate to take desperate measures to -prolong his spell of liberty. Yet, Peter recalled, -he had been gentle with a dumb animal even -though Molly had attempted to snap at his -gnarled fingers.</p> - -<p>“What do you want?” demanded the Sea -Scout. “It’s no use coming here.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it, my young pal?” replied the convict. -“That’s for me to say. Now look ’ere: all I -want is a bite o’ food an’ summat to drink. Then -I’ll trouble you to ’and over any clothes belongin’ -to that tall bloke I seed go ashore this arternoon. -Then you’ll put me across t’other side an’ you’ll -get my best thanks. If you don’t——’Ere, you, -get down out of it. You won’t be wanted this -trip.”</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/184.jpg' alt='' id='img184' style='width:80%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<p>The latter remarks were addressed to Heavitree, -who having placed Molly out of harm’s way had -come out of the saloon to “join in the argument,” -as he expressed it. Far from complying with the -convict’s demands he went to stand beside Craddock -and unobtrusively unshipped a heavy -belaying-pin. “Get out of it!” repeated the -convict. Heavitree raising his arm resolutely -remained where he was. Craddock gave one -glance in the direction of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. No one -was to be seen on her deck. More than likely her -two ship-keepers were amusing themselves below. -In any case, there was not much likelihood of help -in that direction. The two Sea Scouts on the -Cornish yacht were without a dinghy, and being -further out in the tideway, they would run a -serious risk of being carried away if they attempted -to swim to the aid of their brother-Scouts on the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. If Peter and Heavitree were to “win -through,” they would evidently have to do so on -their own merits.</p> - -<p>Realising this, Craddock picked up the boat-hook -which was lying on the waterways by the -side of the cockpit coaming. It was a formidable -weapon, consisting of about eight feet of stout -ash pole terminating in a combined point and -hook of galvanised iron.</p> - -<p>Armed resistance was one of the last things the -miscreant had counted upon. He had staked his -chances upon the likelihood of being able to -overawe a couple of lads, but he had failed to -estimate correctly the physical and moral fibre of -the average Sea Scout. As a general rule, the -burglar who employs brute force when dealing -with a weak and terrified householder is an arrant -coward, easily terrified when threatened with -corporal punishment. When he finds that “the -game is up,” he will refrain from violence because -he knows that on conviction his sentence will be -far heavier than if he had contented himself solely -with ordinary house-breaking. On the other -hand, if he thinks he can get clear he will not -hesitate to stun or wound the person who attempts -his capture.</p> - -<p>The convict hesitated. He did not like the -look of the business end of the boat-hook, the -staff of which was held in a pair of firm, steady -hands. Nor did he relish the probability of a -crack across the head from the serviceable lump -of iron which Heavitree gripped in readiness.</p> - -<p>“Be reasonable, chums!” he whined. “ ’Ere’s -a pore bloke wrongfully convicted who’s got a -chance to get clear. Be sports an’ give him a -’elping ’and.”</p> - -<p>“We will,” agreed Peter grimly. “We’ll give -the police a helping hand, so you’d better surrender -and give no further trouble.”</p> - -<p>“S’pose I’d better,” rejoined the convict -sullenly. “I sees myself back in quod, ’cause -’ere come your pals in their boat.”</p> - -<p>Instinctively the two Sea Scouts turned their -heads to follow the direction of the crafty rogue’s -glance. It was exactly what the convict hoped -they would do.</p> - -<p>In a trice he leapt across the cabin-top. Before -Peter could recover his guard the fellow was -within the wavering point of the boat-hook. The -next instant he grasped Heavitree’s right wrist, -rendering the belaying-pin useless as a weapon -either of defence or offence.</p> - -<p>But there was one thing he forgot. Accustomed -to having a dry and comparatively unyielding -solid ground, he was quite unused to the motion -of a vessel. Even a forty-foot yacht responds -perceptibly to the weight of a person moving on -deck. In his wild onslaught he lost his balance. -His bare feet slipped on the wet painted canvas -of the cabin-top. He fell heavily, bringing Heavitree -down with him.</p> - -<p>In vain Heavitree tried to get in his terrible -upper cut to the point. The convict’s face seemed -as if it were made of metal. He gave a grunt as -the Sea Scout’s fist jolted his chin, then with a -quick movement his fingers closed upon the lad’s -throat.</p> - -<p>For a moment Craddock was unable to distinguish -friend from foe in the deep shadows of -the cockpit. Then he heard his chum’s choking -cry as he gasped for breath. Snatching another -belaying-pin from the rack, Peter brought the -iron bar down with considerable force upon the -back of the convict’s closely cropped head.</p> - -<p>The man seemed to crumple up. He subsided -inertly across the body of the Sea Scout he had -tried to choke into insensibility.</p> - -<p>Extricating Heavitree from his decidedly unpleasant -situation, Peter set his chum down upon -one of the seats in the cockpit. For several -minutes, Heavitree could do nothing but gasp, -swallowing mouthfuls of the pure ozone-laden -air, until his companion grew alarmed.</p> - -<p>“It’s all right, I think,” spluttered Heavitree. -“I don’t think I’m hurt much, but I feel like a -jelly. What’s happened to the chap? You -haven’t killed him?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly,” replied Peter. “His skull is too -thick for that. I gave him a tap to quiet him. -Hello! more of them?”</p> - -<p>A pair of hands appeared over the side of the -yacht, followed by a head. It was one of the crew -of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. Alarmed by the commotion on -board the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, he had boldly dived overboard -and swum to the aid of his brother-Scouts. It -was a risky thing to do, and by the time he had -battled against the strong flood tide he was nearly -exhausted. Peter assisted the lad on board and -explained matters.</p> - -<p>“My word!” exclaimed the Cornish lad. -“This is some trip! We can’t say the voyage -has been dull, can we? Cheerful looking fellow, -isn’t he? Hadn’t we better secure him before -he comes round?”</p> - -<p>“He looks as if he is about to recover consciousness,” -said Peter.</p> - -<p>“In that case we’ll get busy,” rejoined the -<span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> representative. “There’s no need to -lash him up. Let me show you how we do -things down our way.”</p> - -<p>So saying, the Cornish Sea Scout picked up the -mop which was lying on deck.</p> - -<p>“Got another stick like this?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Craddock produced a spare handle from one of -the lockers.</p> - -<p>“Capital!” exclaimed the other approvingly, -and set to work to secure the still insensible man. -This he did by inserting one handle in one leg -of the convict’s shorts and passing lashings round -both the knee and the ankle. The other leg was -dealt with similarly, with the result that one end -of each mop handle projected about six inches -beyond the man’s feet, while, since he would be -unable to bend his lower limbs, he would be -unable to rise.</p> - -<p>“We’ll secure his wrists later,” remarked the -Cornish lad. “We must give the fellow a chance -to recover.”</p> - -<p>“Hello!” exclaimed Heavitree. “Oars!”</p> - -<p>The others listened intently. Above the gentle -sighing of the wind in the yacht’s rigging came -the sound of the regular beats of oars. The long-absent -Sea Scouts with their respective Scoutmasters -were returning.</p> - -<p>“Got any grub ready, Peter?” shouted -Brandon, when within hailing distance. “We’re -famishing.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry, old son,” replied Craddock, “but -we’ve been too busy entertaining. Matter of fact, -sir,” he continued, addressing Mr. Grant, “we’ve -a convict on board. What shall we do with him?”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='191' id='Page_191'></span><h1> CHAPTER XX <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Last Lap</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“W</span>e</span> don’t want him,” declared Mr. Grant. -“Why didn’t you signal to the shore? -The place is stiff with warders and other people -searching for him. Well, what happened?”</p> - -<p>While Craddock was relating the somewhat -alarming incident Brandon got busy with his -electric torch. It was not long before his “general -call” was acknowledged, and a message to the -effect that the convict had been recaptured and -was on board was flashed for the information of -the search party.</p> - -<p>Back came the reply: “Thanks. Will send -boat to fetch him at once.”</p> - -<p>“And what happened to you chaps?” asked -Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“We got stuck in the mud—properly,” admitted -Brandon ruefully. “I never saw such a -place for mud. We tried to land at one place -and couldn’t. Then we went on and found an -old wharf. Talbot remained as boat-keeper for -both dinghies while the rest of us tramped into -Shalfleet. By the time we had looked round and -Mr. Pendennis had bought the petrol we found -both boats high and dry. Talbot did his best to -keep them afloat, but it was of no use. In fact, -he stuck twenty yards from shore, and the mud -was so soft that he couldn’t get back. He’s been -sitting in the dinghy for hours. We had had some -grub, and now we’re frightfully hungry. Talbot -hasn’t had anything to eat since we pushed off -from the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.”</p> - -<p>Already the stove was lighted and preparations -under way for a belated meal. Presently, following -a hail of “Yacht ahoy!” a large rowing boat -with two boatmen and four armed warders came -alongside.</p> - -<p>The convict, who was now conscious, was -transhipped. The head warder asked for particulars.</p> - -<p>“Smart bit of work,” he declared admiringly, -when Craddock had told his plain, unvarnished -tale. “He’s a desperate character with a black -record. Well, young man, you’ve jolly well earned -the reward offered for his apprehension.”</p> - -<p>Peter shook his head.</p> - -<p>“We don’t want it, do we, Heavitree?” he -replied. “It’s too much like blood-money.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense,” declared the warder. “You’re -entitled to it. You’ve rendered a public service.”</p> - -<p>“S’pose that’s one way of looking at it,” -admitted the lad. “All the same, I don’t like the -idea of touching the money. As a matter of fact, -Molly earned it as much as we did. Couldn’t we -give the reward to that Society for—you know -what I mean, sir?”</p> - -<p>“ ‘Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to -Animals.’ Yes, that’s rather a good wheeze, -Peter,” agreed the Scoutmaster. “Well, now, -it’s quite about time this party broke up.”</p> - -<p>Taking the hint, the warders removed their -prisoner, who accepted the situation philosophically, -especially as Craddock and Heavitree had -made no mention to the authorities of the fact -that he had used violence.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t hurt our pup, so we simply felt -we had to let him down lightly,” explained -Peter.</p> - -<p>Very soon the crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were deep in -slumber. They did not turn out till late in the -forenoon for two reasons. They wanted to arrive -at Chichester Harbour “as fresh as paint”; it -was practically useless to attempt to set sail until -the west-going tide eased considerably. By this -time the Aberstour Sea Scouts had learnt to -respect the fierce tides of the Solent.</p> - -<p>When the lads did turn out, Brandon went on -deck to haul down the riding-light. Then, to -his surprise, he discovered that the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> was -nowhere to be seen.</p> - -<p>“She’s stolen a march on us on the last lap,” -declared Heavitree when the Patrol Leader announced -the astonishing news.</p> - -<p>“Well, she hasn’t got far,” added Carline. -“Unless, of course, she’s made use of her -motor.”</p> - -<p>“We would have heard it,” remarked Craddock. -“Her exhaust is a very noisy affair.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps they thought that we gave them the -slip at Falmouth,” suggested Talbot. “One or -two of the fellows looked a bit doubtful, as if -we were pulling their legs, when we explained -how it happened. So they’re taking a rise out -of us.”</p> - -<p>“Stop arguing!” exclaimed Brandon. “Don’t -go hanging on to the slack, but get your -breakfasts. The sooner we get under way the -better.”</p> - -<p>By the time the meal had been dispatched -and everything below made ship-shape the tide -had slackened. There was a light southerly -breeze which would enable the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to romp -full and bye up the Solent, and, unless the wind -changed in direction, would take her to Chichester -Bar without having to tack. It was now nine -o’clock. High water at Spithead would occur at -four, and if the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were to make the rendezvous -that day, she must arrive off the bar not -later than five.</p> - -<p>All plain sail was set, the anchor was weighed, -and then main and mizzen topsails were sent -aloft. Finally, the spinnaker was set with the -tack at the bowsprit-end. In fact, every stitch -of canvas that could be set was brought into -use.</p> - -<p>It was a delightful sail. On the starboard hand -the crew could enjoy a close view of the well-wooded -Isle of Wight, while to port they could -discern an expanse of the New Forest and the -entrance to Southampton Water.</p> - -<p>Through Cowes Roads the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> tore with -wind and tide. Here they saw for the first time -the Mecca of the yachting world with its swarm -of pleasure craft of all sizes and types either -anchored or under way. Sailing yachts, motor -craft, pleasure steamers thronged the Roads; -while further out liners, tramps, and warships -added to this picture of merchant activity. There -were aeroplanes and flying boats manœuvring, -the latter “taking off” from the surface of the -water with surprising ease.</p> - -<p>Just abreast of the Old Castle Point buoy, -Brandon called attention to a couple of cutters, -both of which flew the burgee with the <span class='it'>fleur de lys</span>. -They were on a converging course to that of the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, and in all probability they would soon -come within hailing distance.</p> - -<p>But Brandon did not wait for that. Producing -a pair of hand flags, he proceeded to semaphore -the approaching craft.</p> - -<p>“They are Sea Scouts making for the Jamboree, -sir,” he announced. “One is from Poole, -the other from Weymouth. I’ll ask them if -they’ve seen the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> pass, since they brought -up in Cowes Harbour last night.”</p> - -<p>The reply was in the negative; but, the Poole -cutter’s signaller added, a large motor yacht -passed making for the east’ard with two Sea -Scouts’ galleys in tow.</p> - -<p>“It looks as if we’re going to be a merry -party,” observed Symington. “All roads lead -to Chichester Harbour. . . . What’s that place, -sir?”</p> - -<p>He pointed to a large building flanked by two -towers and standing on a hill covered with grass -of a remarkably vivid hue.</p> - -<p>“That’s Osborne House,” replied the Scoutmaster. -“It used to be a royal residence. Queen -Victoria died there. See that long pier ahead, -Talbot? That’s Ryde Pier. Steer to pass about -a quarter of a mile from its head. We’re moving, -by Jove! At this rate we’ll soon make Chichester -Harbour.”</p> - -<p>The three yachts were now almost in line, the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> being to wind’ard. They were keeping -practically level. If anything, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was -gaining slightly.</p> - -<p>“We’re showing them a clean pair of heels, -sir!” remarked Talbot, with no uncertain display -of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>“Yes, because this wind suits us,” replied Mr. -Grant. “If it headed us, and we had to beat to -wind’ard, they’d whack us hollow. A ketch is no -match for a cutter at that game, so I wouldn’t -chip those fellows if I were you. They might -have the laugh of us before very long.”</p> - -<p>“There’s a rowing boat with a Scout flag over -there, sir,” reported Craddock.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant levelled his glasses. A double-sculler -manned by three lads in Sea Scouts’ rig -was coming out of Wootton Creek. She had just -drawn clear of the outer beacon and was pointing -towards Ryde.</p> - -<p>“Surely those chaps aren’t going to the -Jamboree,” remarked Peter. “Not in that -cockleshell.”</p> - -<p>“They’ve a lot of gear in the boat,” declared -Mr. Grant. “I shouldn’t be at all surprised if -they are making for Chichester Harbour.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a long way to row,” added Brandon tentatively.</p> - -<p>“Down helm a bit,” ordered Mr. Grant. -“We’ll see if they are bound there. If so, we’ll -offer them a tow.”</p> - -<p>Rapidly the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> overhauled the boat. The -crew of the latter continued to pull steadily.</p> - -<p>“Where are you bound?” hailed the Patrol -Leader, as the ketch drew near.</p> - -<p>“Chichester.”</p> - -<p>“Want a tow?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, rather.”</p> - -<p>The oarsmen boated their oars, the bowman -coiling up the painter ready to make a cast.</p> - -<p>Brandon was too experienced to attempt to -pick up the boat with the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> going at such a -speed. Making a wide sweep, he brought the -ketch head to wind within an oar’s length of the -frail double-sculler.</p> - -<p>“Hadn’t we better get them all on board, -sir?” enquired the Patrol Leader. “The skiff -will tow lighter and easier if we do.”</p> - -<p>In double quick time the three Sea Scouts -boarded the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>. Their boat, with a double -painter rove as a matter of precaution, was dropped -astern of the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> dinghy and the ketch was -again put on her former course. By this time -the Weymouth and Pool cutters had drawn ahead -to a distance of nearly a quarter of a mile; but, -sportsman-like, they had backed their head-sails -to enable the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to recover her lead.</p> - -<p>“You fellows looked like having a long pull,” -remarked Craddock to the three youths whose -jerseys bore the inscription, “Third Wootton -Bridge Sea Scouts.” “Bit risky, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“We weren’t going to be out of it,” explained -the Second. “Our Troop left yesterday in the -<span class='it'>Pixie</span>. We couldn’t get away. I work at a garage. -Jim, here, is at a baker’s; and Tim has a job at -the yacht-yard. At the last lap, so to speak, we -got the time off, and Tim’s boss lent us this -double-sculler.”</p> - -<p>“You might have found yourselves in difficulties -off Chichester Bar,” observed Mr. Grant. -“There’s often a nasty sea running there, I -believe.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” admitted the Second. “But we -weren’t going to risk that in that sort of boat. -We were going to row as far as Ryde, where the -skipper of a motor tug promised to tow us across -to Portsmouth.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how that would help you very -much,” commented the Scoutmaster. “You -would still have to get into Chichester Harbour.”</p> - -<p>“Inland water all the way, sir,” declared the -lad. “There’s a channel between Portsmouth -and Langston Harbour, and another between -Langston and Chichester. It’s all right for small -boats, but you couldn’t do it because of the -bridges, unless you unship your masts.”</p> - -<p>Past a couple of “scrapped” monitors, the -unwieldy appearance and huge guns of which -afforded considerable interest to the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> -crew, the ketch tore through the water. Off -Ryde they sighted two other craft—a yawl and -a converted lifeboat—both of which bore the -distinguishing flag of the Sea Scout brotherhood.</p> - -<p>“Now, where do we make for, sir?” asked -Brandon.</p> - -<p>“Steer for that fort,” replied Mr. Grant, -indicating a circular structure painted in black -and yellow squares and rising sheer out of the -sea.</p> - -<p>“Is that a fort?” enquired Talbot. “It looks -more like a gigantic cheese. Why, there are two -more!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and we have to pass between the pair,” -continued the Scoutmaster. “See that low-lying -belt of trees? That’s Hayling. The entrance to -Chichester Harbour is just beyond.”</p> - -<p>Presently half a dozen sailing craft were noticed -on the port quarter. These comprised the Portsmouth -and Gosport contingent of Sea Scouts, -while astern a couple of motor launches each -towing two whalers announced their identity as -part of Southampton’s representation at the -forthcoming Jamboree.</p> - -<p>By this time there were nearly twenty yachts -and boats within a radius of half a mile all making -for a common point—the entrance to Chichester -Harbour. Many Sea Scout craft had already -arrived. Others were on the way, not only from -the West, but from the East Coast. Provided -the weather held, the success of the Jamboree -seemed assured.</p> - -<p>“Well, thank goodness we’re not leading the -procession,” exclaimed Mr. Grant. “I’ll gladly -allow someone else to show us the way in. From -all accounts it’s a very tricky and badly marked -entrance, so we must be thankful we haven’t to -grope and scrape over the Bar.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see any entrance,” said Craddock.</p> - -<p>Viewed from seaward the coast-line appeared -to consist of an unbroken line of low-lying, sandy -shore with a few houses and trees, extending -eastward as far as the eye could reach until only -the tree-tops showed above the horizon in the -neighbourhood of Selsea Bill. Ahead, as the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was now pounding, were masses of white -foam as the rollers broke on the flat shoals of the -dangerous Winners. Yet the leading craft held -unswervingly on their course, as if they meant -to hurl themselves to destruction upon those -formidable surf-swept sandbanks.</p> - -<p>Presently a small white motor boat was sighted -ahead and quite a mile from the beach. She, -too, displayed the Scout burgee, and as each -approaching craft drew level with her a uniformed -official shouted directions to the newcomers.</p> - -<p>“What yacht is that?” demanded the Commissioner -as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> drew near. “Where -are you from? Good. What’s your draught? -Four feet; then you’ve plenty of water. Keep -close to the west shore inside the entrance until -you sight a buoy on your starboard hand. -Then port helm and carry on up the boomed -channel.”</p> - -<p>“Ay, ay, sir!” replied Mr. Grant, and the -motor boat forged ahead to interview the next -arrival and to tell her to heave-to until the tide -made sufficiently for her draught to cross the -bar.</p> - -<p>“What a topping place!” exclaimed Craddock -enthusiastically.</p> - -<p>His appreciation was justifiable; for, although -the approach to Chichester Harbour presents a -dreary aspect, the view when once within its -shelter is superb; while the spacious land-locked -expanse with its three principal arms afforded -miles of safe yet entrancing sailing.</p> - -<p>After following a well-marked channel for about -three miles and making a gentle bend to starboard, -the leading craft began to reduce canvas.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> followed suit; then a regular forest -of masts appeared to occupy the whole width of -the waterway, while ashore a small village of tents -accommodated those Sea Scouts whom circumstances -had prevented from living and sleeping -afloat. Conspicuous amongst the floating community -was a large yacht flying the characteristic -burgee of the Chief Sea Scout, and displaying the -International Code Signal: KY—“Anchor as -convenient.”</p> - -<p>Five minutes later, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> brought up on -the fringe of the fleet and well sheltered by the -curving arms of a sandy bay. Eighty yards or so -away was a little pier fronting the lines of tents -and affording means of landing at any state of -the tide. Canvas was then stowed and ropes -coiled away. Then for the first time the crew of -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were at leisure to take in the animated -scene.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Heavitree turned and smacked Craddock -on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Peter, old son!” he exclaimed joyously, -“aren’t you thunderingly glad you’re a Sea -Scout?”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='204' id='Page_204'></span><h1> CHAPTER XXI <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Eve of the Jamboree</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>“I</span> can’t</span> see any sign of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>,” declared -Brandon, after scanning the numerous craft -at anchor. Already, during the last half-hour -new arrivals had taken up their berths, so that -the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was by no means on the fringe of the -fleet.</p> - -<p>“That’s strange,” rejoined Peter. “I wonder -where she is?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll make enquiries,” said Mr. Grant, overhearing -the conversation. “I must go aboard the -Chief Sea Scout’s yacht to report our arrival and -will find out whether the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> has arrived. -Bring the dinghy alongside, please, Brandon.”</p> - -<p>The three Wootton Sea Scouts had taken their -departure and were alongside their parent craft -when their arrival was greeted with acclamation -by their chums.</p> - -<p>Spic-and-span in their best jerseys, Brandon -and Craddock manned the dinghy and rowed -their Scoutmaster to the flagship, which was -surrounded by a swarm of small boats and -invaded by dozens of Scoutmasters attending -a conference on the programme for the next ten -days.</p> - -<p>Having put Mr. Grant on board, Brandon and -his chum “laid off,” keeping their dinghy clear -of the yacht’s accommodation ladder. Then they -got busy, “easing their jaw tackle,” to use a -nautical expression, for the crews of the various -dinghies were holding an informal jamboree on -their own account and exchanging reminiscences.</p> - -<p>There could be little doubt that the great -gathering of Sea Scouts would turn out to be a -huge success. Not only were the neighbouring -Troops well represented; some came from Great -Yarmouth, Lowestoft, Grimsby, and Hull, and -even from far-off Aberdeen. From the West -Coast, the Clyde was well represented, as well as -Troops from the Mersey, Pembroke, Swansea, -Cardiff, and Bristol. All these Troops were -fortunate in possessing fairly large and seaworthy -craft, many of them “drifters” with auxiliary -motors.</p> - -<p>Other Sea Scouts living in inland districts—it -may sound strange to have to relate, but most -efficient Troops have been formed at places on -various rivers—had not been deterred from -appearing at the Jamboree. Some of them—those -from Nottingham, for example—had made the -voyage by canal as far as Godalming, completing -the journey by having their whalers placed on rail. -Others, unable to make use of the inland waterways, -had come the whole way by rail; while one -enterprising Troop from Worcester had demonstrated -how grit and ingenuity could surmount -almost any obstacle.</p> - -<p>Their craft was a 27-foot ex-naval whaler and -was too long to be accommodated on an ordinary -railway goods truck. Besides, they were not well -off and could ill afford the expense. But they -were determined to be present at the Jamboree, -and they were. They had constructed a special -carriage mounted on a pair of heavy motor-lorry -wheels. This they attached to the Scoutmaster’s -car, placing the whaler on the “cradle.” Some -of the crew travelled in the boat; others by cycle, -since the lumbering vehicle could not go more -than eight or ten miles an hour. At night they -slept in the boat, which was covered with a waterproof -awning.</p> - -<p>Others, possessing smaller boats, had trekked -to the rendezvous; while in many cases Troops -had arrived without craft of any description and -were accommodated in tents.</p> - -<p>Not only was Great Britain well represented. -There were contingents from France, Belgium -and Holland, and quite a strong Troop of hefty, -flaxen-haired, fair-complexioned Sea Scouts from -Denmark, most of whom spoke English and had -already made the acquaintance of British Scouts -at the recent Copenhagen meeting.</p> - -<p>The organisation, too, was as perfect as human -experience could devise. One of the chief -considerations, an ample supply of good drinking -water, was provided. There was an efficient -transport service between the landing-place and -the city of Chichester, from whence provisions -and stores were obtained. Special precautions -had been taken to provide a safe bathing-place -under strict supervision; while a proper postal -service had been instituted.</p> - -<p>This much and more Brandon and Craddock -learnt from their new-found chums, and apparently -there was much forthcoming about which -the lads were as yet metaphorically “at sea.”</p> - -<p>In about half an hour, Mr. Grant appeared on -deck and was rowed back to the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>.</p> - -<p>“The <span class='it'>Merlin</span> hasn’t reported, lads,” he announced. -“Perhaps she’s had to put in somewhere. -It’s no use expecting her this evening. -There’s not enough water on the Bar until -to-morrow morning. Now, Eric, my lad, I -suppose the next thing to be done is to hand -you over to your relations.”</p> - -<p>“Surely, sir, there is no immediate hurry,” -protested the stowaway. “If you have no objection, -perhaps I might be permitted to remain for -part of the impending entertainment? It occurred -to me, sir, that I should like very much to become -a Sea Scout.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant turned to his crew.</p> - -<p>“What shall we say, lads?” he asked.</p> - -<p>There was a unanimous response in favour of -Eric being allowed to stop on board. In spite of -his old-fashioned ways, the boy had made himself -well liked.</p> - -<p>“Very well, then,” agreed the Scoutmaster. -“I’ll run into Chichester to-morrow morning and -see your uncle. But I’m afraid we can’t make -you a Sea Scout. You’re not old enough, Eric; -but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t become -a Cub, and then when you are old enough you -can become a Scout. Now, lads, who’s for the -shore? A good sharp tramp is the thing. One -of you must remain on board. Who’ll volunteer?”</p> - -<p>Talbot said he would.</p> - -<p>“Good man!” exclaimed Mr. Grant. “Keep -a smart look-out for signals from the Chief Sea -Scout’s yacht. That’s about all, I think. By the -by, we’ll have to patch up the dinghy’s gunwale -to-morrow. It looks a bit of a wreck.”</p> - -<p>With the exception of the volunteer ship-keeper, -all hands went ashore, leaving the dinghy -on the hard. Proceeding between the avenue of -tents where swarms of Sea Scouts were in various -stages of “getting all ship-shape,” they gained -the open country—a flat but rather pleasing bit -of Sussex lying between the harbour and the -open sea.</p> - -<p>“How firm the sand is!” exclaimed Carline -when the lads gained the seashore. “Look! -There are fellows riding bicycles on it.”</p> - -<p>“And isn’t the tide out?” added Wilson. -“When we came in there weren’t any shoals -showing.”</p> - -<p>“That’s why we had to choose high-water,” -remarked Mr. Grant. “Those shoals, although -consisting of sand, are quite as dangerous as -rocks. A vessel might be pounded to bits in a -few minutes if she chanced to get ashore in heavy -weather. There’s hardly any wind this evening—it’s -almost a flat calm—but you can see the -rollers breaking on the exposed edge of the shoals. -This harbour happens to be the worst beaconed -on the south coast, and in some respects one of -the most dangerous ones. If it comes on to blow -for any length of time, we might be kept here for -a month.”</p> - -<p>“How jolly that would be!” exclaimed Wilson.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you’d feel rather fed-up before -the month had passed,” observed the Scoutmaster. -“Any place, however much it appeals -to you at first, becomes positively irksome if -you’re kept there against your inclinations. Well, -there’s no sign of the <span class='it'>Merlin</span> in the offing. It’s a -pity, because it looks as if she won’t be able to -take part in the opening sailing race to-morrow -afternoon for the Silver Cup.”</p> - -<p>“Are we racing, sir?” asked Craddock eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Rather.”</p> - -<p>“Good egg, sir!” exclaimed Peter.</p> - -<p>“Time to be on our return journey,” observed -Mr. Grant, consulting his wristlet watch. “We -must be on board before sunset.”</p> - -<p>His listeners wondered why. They soon found -out; for on returning to the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> they noticed -the Sea Scouts on the various craft mustered on -deck. A bugle sounded. Everyone stood at the -Alert, while a forest of burgees and ensigns -fluttered to their respective decks. Then in the -gathering gloom innumerable riding-lights were -hoisted in position.</p> - -<p>It was the eve of the Jamboree.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='211' id='Page_211'></span><h1> CHAPTER XXII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>The Race for the Cup</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>P</span>unctually</span> at 1.45 on the following -afternoon the eventful race for the Silver -Cup started. Nine yachts, each measuring thirty -feet or more on the water-line, were towed into -position and anchored. There they swung to -the weak flood tide with canvas stowed just as -if they had “brought-up” for the rest of the -day.</p> - -<p>On board the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, the third from the starboard -end of the line, four very serious Sea Scouts, -with Mr. Grant in command, sat breathlessly -waiting for the starting gun. Although the conditions -governing the race were new to them—in -the old <span class='it'>Puffin</span> they had always had a flying -start following a five-minute gun—they realised -they had a fighting chance provided they did -their very best and did not bungle; for not -until after the races were completed would the -name of the winning yacht be known. That -was one of the surprises of racing under a sealed -handicap.</p> - -<p>“Fifty seconds!” announced Mr. Grant -calmly. “Stand by! Fifty-five . . . fifty-six -. . . fifty-seven . . . fifty-eight . . . fifty-nine. -. . .”</p> - -<p>“<span class='sc'>Bang!</span>”</p> - -<p>Simultaneously with the flash of the starting -gun the hitherto practically motionless crews of -the competing craft were figuratively galvanised -into activity. In as short a time as possible, the -bare poles would be hidden by the towering -canvas, anchors would be weighed, and the -vessels would leap forward on the determined -contest.</p> - -<p>On board the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, although her crew had -had plenty of practice in getting under way, they -had not had to take into consideration the fact -that at a few yards’ distance on either side other -crews were doing the same thing. Besides, they -were short-handed, five being the maximum -number allowed. The rest of the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> complement -were ashore, where, in common with -several hundred Sea Scouts and other spectators, -they were yelling themselves hoarse with excitement.</p> - -<p>Brandon and Craddock, casting off the tyers, -hauled away at main and peak halliards. Heavitree -and Carline ran for’ard to attach the foresail -to the forestay by means of the hanks, and to run -the jib out on the bowsprit ready to hoist. By -the time the mainsail was set Heavitree, who was -chosen for this particular work by reason of his -strength, broke out the anchor and got it inboard.</p> - -<p>Simultaneously with the racing of the anchor, -Mr. Grant put the helm hard-a-starboard, Brandon -tended the mainsheet, while the two hands for’ard -set both jib and staysail.</p> - -<p>As soon as the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> forged ahead, Peter and -the Patrol Leader set and trimmed the mizzen. -This done, all hands went quietly to their racing -station and awaited orders.</p> - -<p>Now for the first time since the starting gun -Peter was able to take notice of what the other -competing yachts were doing. Smart though the -<span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew had been in getting under way, -there were two craft which had executed the -manœuvre in quicker time and already had established -a useful lead. One was a centre-board -cutter from the Humber, a wholesome looking -craft; the other, also a cutter, belonging to a -Plymouth Troop. Slightly to lee’ard, and with -her hands still engaged in sheeting home their -canvas, was a Poole ex-fishing boat rather -noted for her speed and weatherly qualities. -A few yards astern was a deep-draughted -Bristol pilot cutter. Apparently she had trouble -with her peak-halliard blocks, and a couple of -Sea Scouts were swarming aloft to set things -right.</p> - -<p>All these craft were close-hauled on the starboard -tack. The rest of the competitors, including -two who had collided at the start, -were heading towards the Bosham side of the -channel.</p> - -<p>So far so well. Peter had never known the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to move so fast in such a light wind. For -one thing, she was no longer hampered by her -dinghy. That impediment was for the present -unnecessary and had been left ashore.</p> - -<p>But clean-heeled though the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was, -there were others who were faster. Although -Mr. Grant, by keeping her “full,” got the -very best out of the yacht, she could neither -point so high nor travel as fast as two of the -cutters.</p> - -<p>On the fore-deck of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, Heavitree lay -motionless, keeping well down to minimise wind-resistance. -The rest of the crew stationed aft -were as silent and immobile as statues. They -realised that the race was not a game. It was -something that required every effort of mind and -body on the part of each member of the crew. -Even to move about unnecessarily might mean -the loss of the race, for even in a craft of the size -of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> it would be adversely sensitive to -the alteration of “trim” should any of the crew -begin “jumping about.”</p> - -<p>Now the leading yacht on the starboard tack -was nearing the edge of the deep-water channel. -She drew more than the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, and the problem -that confronted Mr. Grant was whether to put -the helm down at once, or, taking advantage of -the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> smaller draught, carry on and pass -astern and consequently to wind’ard of his -antagonist. He had to make up his mind quickly. -He realised, too, that against the flood tide he -might find slack water, or even a counter-eddy -close to the hidden mud-flat.</p> - -<p>He chose the latter alternative.</p> - -<p>“Stand by to go about!” he ordered; then -“Lee-o!”</p> - -<p>Quickly yet deliberately Brandon let the head-sheets -fly. Round came the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> slowly yet -surely, shooting ahead in the slack water and -actually overlapping the leading cutter. But the -advantage was only temporary, although it counted -in the long run. Unable to point as high as his -rival, the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> speed diminished. The only -possible course was to up-helm slightly and to -romp under the Humber yacht’s lee.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the Plymouth vessel had gone about -and was making short but useful tacks; while -the Bristol yacht, holding on too long, was -aground with her crew feverishly working in an -attempt to get her off.</p> - -<p>Half-way across the Channel, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, now -on the port tack, met the competing craft, which -had made for the northern side of the fairway. -By the “rules of the road” she had to give way. -Now came the test of the helmsman’s skill and -sound judgment. The slightest error might -result in disaster, for which the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> would be -blamed. Even the faintest contact between her -and one of the yachts on the starboard tack would -disqualify her. In addition there were two boats -abeam of her and two more astern. No need to -worry about the last two. They had to avoid -those ahead as well as those converging on the -opposite tack.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> passed the first of the starboard-tack -boats at less than a couple of yards to lee’ard. -For a brief instant, as the lowering canvas of the -latter blanketed the wind, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> recovered -from her heel; her sails shivered, the mainsheet -sagged. Then at the next moment she -staggered as she felt the full force of the breeze, -and, luffing, shot magnificently across the bows -of the next competitor.</p> - -<p>It was exhilarating work. Even in that land-locked -harbour, the dead beat to wind’ard with -a weather-going tide sent the spindrift flying over -the bows. Yet the disconcerting fact was now -apparent. The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, owing to her rig and -generous amount of deadwood fore and aft, was -hopelessly out of it against the performance of -most of her competitors in the thrash to wind’ard. -She could only hold on gamely. Even the Bristol -boat was afloat once more and was tearing along -in grand style. Astern a Dover yacht was in -difficulties with a torn jib; while a Newhaven -yawl and a Grimsby cutter, both under-canvassed, -were indulging in a ding-dong race on their own -account.</p> - -<p>At twenty minutes from the start the two leading -competitors were rounding the mark buoy. -The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was still a good two hundred yards -from it. Four other boats, bunched together, -were bearing down on the port tack for the -turning-point.</p> - -<p>As luck would have it the second boat’s bowsprit -was almost level with the leader’s counter as -they prepared to go about at the mark buoy. -This is what is termed “establishing an overlap,” -and the second craft has the right to hail the -other to give her more room. If, however, there -is no overlap the leading craft can carry on, -leaving the other to get out of her way and pass -outside her.</p> - -<p>At this critical moment a collision occurred. -The leading yacht, with her mainsail ripped, fell -away, leaving the second with her bowsprit -smashed off close to the stem-head and her jib -trailing in the water.</p> - -<p>“Rough luck!” commented the sportsman-like -Craddock. “They’re out of it.”</p> - -<p>But Peter was wrong. The yacht with the -damaged bowsprit was automatically disqualified; -but the other, in spite of the sorry condition -of her mainsail, bore away and continued to -race.</p> - -<p>Presently it was the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> turn to round the -mark buoy. She had it all to herself, for the -bunch of four were already on the homeward run, -while the remaining two competitors were well -astern.</p> - -<p>“Stand by!” cautioned Mr. Grant. “Ready -with the spinnaker!”</p> - -<p>Moving as softly as cats, Carline and Heavitree -prepared the halliards and out-haul of the spinnaker. -Round swept the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, making the -mark buoy curtsey in her wash. Over flew the -boom in a deliberate gybe.</p> - -<p>“Up spinnaker!” ordered the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>In double quick time the huge but light triangular -sail was set and sheeted home. Now the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was at her best. Running was her strong -point. The foam frothed at her cut-water and -trailed astern in an ever-diverging double wake. -In five minutes she had overtaken the partly -crippled Plymouth cutter, the crew of which, far -from being dismayed, had also set spinnaker. -She was making a gallant fight against long odds, -and the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew broke a prolonged silence -by giving the West Country Sea Scouts a rousing -cheer.</p> - -<p>A stern chase is proverbially a long one, but -slowly yet surely the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was decreasing the -distance between the now straggling procession -of leading boats. The task entailed ceaseless -vigilance on the part of the Scoutmaster. An -accidental gybe at this state of the proceedings -would be disastrous. In all probability the -<span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> mainmast would be carried away, but -in any case the mainsail would mask the spinnaker -and deprive it of its pulling power.</p> - -<p>At the last bend, which was so gentle that -there was no necessity to gybe and reset the -spinnaker, the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> was fourth. A Poole boat, -staggering under a press of bellying sail, was -leading. Following her came the centre-keeled -Humber cutter, the crew of which had set a -large square sail in addition to their working -canvas. Next the Bristol boat, which, having -made good following her temporary grounding, -had failed to maintain her advantage while -running.</p> - -<p>Less than a quarter of a mile ahead could be -seen the anchored boat that marked one end of -the finishing line. The distance was too short -to enable the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> to overhaul the remaining -three ahead. True, she drew level with the -Bristol cutter; but, impeded by the far-flung -bow wave of the latter, she was unable to continue -her advantage. Yet the pace was terrific. -Peter found himself wondering what would happen -when the competing yacht crossed the line. There -seemed no room to turn owing to the crowd of -anchored yachts and boats beyond.</p> - -<p>“Stand by!” cautioned Mr. Grant crisply.</p> - -<p><span class='sc'>Bang!</span> went the gun for the foremost yacht. -Five seconds later another report greeted the -arrival of the second. Then, almost simultaneously, -the gun fired twice.</p> - -<p>“Down spinnaker!”</p> - -<p>No need for cautious movements now. Down -came the clouds of light canvas. The spinnaker -boom was topped up in double quick time. -Over went the helm. Brandon and Craddock -hauled away on the mainsheet. Heeling, the -<span class='it'>Kestrel</span> turned into the wind, shot clear of the -course, and dropped anchor almost in her former -berth.</p> - -<p>“It’s been a thundering good race,” declared -Mr. Grant, moistening his parched lips; for now -that the ordeal was over his tongue felt unpleasantly -dry. “Signal to Talbot and the others -and tell them to come aboard. We’ll get tea. -Hello! There’s the <span class='it'>Merlin</span>. When did she arrive, -I wonder?”</p> - -<p>The Falmouth Sea Scouts had brought up about -a hundred yards from the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span>, and several -other craft lay at anchor between them. Without -a dinghy, Mr. Grant could not pay her -a visit, although all on board the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> were -naturally curious to know what had happened -to her.</p> - -<p>Presently Symington, Talbot and Wilson, and -Eric Little, together with the pup, came alongside.</p> - -<p>“I say, sir!” exclaimed Talbot eagerly. “Can -we enter for the ex-service boats’ rowing match? -We’ve been talking to some Portsmouth Sea -Scouts. They say they’ll lend us a gig, if we like -to have a shot.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” replied Mr. Grant, although he -knew that his lads, unaccustomed to pulling a -heavy four-oared boat and a strange one at that, -stood a poor chance of securing a win. “Row -ashore and accept the offer, and then hurry back -for tea. What time does the race start? Six? -Good!”</p> - -<p>Talbot had been gone only a few minutes when -Craddock reported that the flagship was making -a general signal.</p> - -<p>“They’re about to announce the result of the -race,” he added. “I’ve hoisted our answering -pennant, sir.”</p> - -<p>Already a number of red and white pennants -hoisted “at the dip”—that is, half-way up—indicated -that the various craft concerned were -ready to receive the impending signal.</p> - -<p>“Code flag over M, sir,” reported Craddock. -“They going to give the winning numbers.”</p> - -<p>The first number—represented by the code -letter G—indicated that No. 7 was the winner of -the cup. That showed that the coveted trophy -had been carried off by the Poole Sea Scouts, who -had not only actually come in first, but were first -also on handicap.</p> - -<p>When the second number went up, Craddock -gave a whoop of delight, while the rest of the -crew almost fell over themselves with excitement.</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> had won the second prize, but only -by the narrow margin of five seconds.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='223' id='Page_223'></span><h1> CHAPTER XXIII <br/> <span class='sub-head'>A Dead Heat</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>T</span>he</span> <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew had only just finished their -much-appreciated tea when the <span class='it'>Merlin’s</span> -dinghy came alongside.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Pendennis!” exclaimed Mr. Grant, -going on deck to receive his visitor. “What -happened to you?”</p> - -<p>“A slice of bad luck,” replied the Cornishman. -“Our anchor tripped during the night when we -lay off Newtown. When we turned out we found -ourselves bumping on Warden Ledge. We must -have drifted nearly seven miles without knowing -it. Then, in trying to get off, we strained one of -our propeller blades and had to put into Yarmouth -to get it straightened. After that we came -on here.”</p> - -<p>“And when did you arrive?”</p> - -<p>“Early this morning,” replied Mr. Pendennis. -“In fact, so early that you lazy fellows were fast -asleep. We felt tempted to give you a hail. -Heartiest congratulations, Grant, in getting second -in that race.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks. Sorry you didn’t compete.”</p> - -<p>The Cornishman smiled.</p> - -<p>“My lads were a bit fagged out,” he replied. -“We’ve stood some long tricks this trip. ’Sides, -they’re keen on the ex-Service boats’ pulling -race and are conserving their strength for that -event.”</p> - -<p>“We’re entering, too, sir,” announced Talbot.</p> - -<p>“The more the merrier,” rejoined Mr. Pendennis.</p> - -<p>While the two Scoutmasters were chatting upon -various subjects relating to the Jamboree the rest -of the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew went ashore to complete their -preparations.</p> - -<p>The Portsmouth Sea Scouts were as good as -their word, for quite a serviceable gig was hauled -up on the hard for the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> lads’ use. More -than a dozen other ex-Service boats were also out -of the water, their respective crews busily engaged -in making ready for the fray or, rather, contest.</p> - -<p>“What’s that stuff you’re putting on?” enquired -Craddock of a lad who hailed from -Pembroke.</p> - -<p>“Black lead, look you,” replied the young -Welshman. “Want some? We have plenty, -look you.”</p> - -<p>Seeing that several of the competing boats were -being treated in a similar fashion, Peter accepted -the generous offer and soon the bottom of the -borrowed gig was shining in a coat of black lead -thinned down with stale beer—a preparation -which, although filthy to handle, is in high favour -amongst rowers of racing craft.</p> - -<p>As soon as the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew had applied the -“dope,” the gig was uprighted and a thorough -examination made of her oars and stretchers. -Craddock, as coxswain of the boat, meant to leave -little to chance, although he was quite aware of -the disadvantage of racing in a strange craft without -even the opportunity of having a preliminary -practice. But, he reflected sagely, there were -other crews similarly handicapped.</p> - -<p>Just before six o’clock fourteen boats faced the -starter. By this time the ebb-tide was running -strongly against a steady sou’westerly breeze, with -the result that farther down the main channel -there was quite a sea running.</p> - -<p>“Back there, No. 5!” shouted the somewhat -harassed starter through a megaphone.</p> - -<p>No. 5’s crew dropped their oars and obediently -“toed the line.” They were hefty, bronzed-featured -lads from Margate. It was their first -race, and in consequence they were a bit excited.</p> - -<p>“Tough lot, aren’t they?” remarked Heavitree, -stroke of the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> gig, as he moistened -the loom of his oar with salt water.</p> - -<p>“Eyes on the boat,” cautioned Peter. “Stand -by!”</p> - -<p>The starting gun crashed. Fifty-six backs bent -to the first stroke; fifty-six oars dipped almost as -one, and the fourteen competing boats leapt forward, -the coxswains shouting encouragement to -their men.</p> - -<p>For the first hundred yards the line retained -its comparative straightness, but already some of -the rowers were splashing unnecessarily, and they -lost their “first wind,” and hadn’t begun to find -their second.</p> - -<p>Then five of the boats shot ahead, amongst -them the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> borrowed gig. Her crew were -working with a will and getting every ounce of -power out of their backs and legs. They had a -style about them, and Peter, as he watched their -long, steady, and regular strokes, felt proud of his -chums.</p> - -<p>Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Craddock -noticed that the Nottingham Sea Scouts’ boat was -level on her starboard beam. Her crew, admirably -trained, were rowing with the regularity of -clockwork. Instinctively, Peter felt that here was -a rival to be treated with respect.</p> - -<p>To port, No. 7—the Pembroke crowd—was -forging ahead. The crew were rowing a quicker -stroke, but would they last? On the extreme -left, No. 14, the Whitby boat, had already established -a useful lead. Although losing the advantage -of the ebb-tide she was in smoother water -close to the bank, but at the first bend that -advantage would be lost.</p> - -<p>Yet, Peter knew, there was little to be judged -by position at this stage. It was the stayer, not -the spurter, who seemed most likely to lead the -procession over the finishing line.</p> - -<p>He looked at his crew. They were bearing up -bravely. Talbot looked a little flustered, but was -still rowing strongly. None of them had reached -the gasping stage yet, although rivulets of perspiration -trickled unhindered down their faces.</p> - -<p>At the first bend the competitors met the full -force of the wind ’gainst tide. The lean bows of -the boat threw apart showers of spray, as the -knife-like stem cleft the curling waves.</p> - -<p>It was here that the Nottingham lads found -themselves handicapped. Used to pulling in a -river, they had never had the opportunity of -rowing in a fairly high seaway. Their style, -admirable in smooth water, was at a decided disadvantage -in this “popple.” More than once -“bow” missed his stroke, his blade encountering -nothing more resistant than air as the boat rose -on the crest of a short, steep wave.</p> - -<p>“We’re overhauling her all right,” thought -Peter.</p> - -<p>Five lengths ahead the Portsmouth Sea Scouts -were leading. Pulling splendidly, they were -steadily increasing their lead, when misfortune -descended upon them. “Stroke’s” oar broke -just above the blade. The lad, falling backwards, -temporarily put No. 3 out of action. By the -time the latter had recovered and resumed his -oar, the boat had dropped to the seventh place. -Nevertheless under extremely adverse conditions -the lads continued their gallant struggle, the -oarless “stroke” sitting up and moving with the -rest to preserve the rhythm of the swing.</p> - -<p>The mark buoy at last!</p> - -<p>“Back, port! Pull, starboard!” ordered Peter. -Round swung the gig, rolling as she swung broadside -to the weather-going tide.</p> - -<p>“Together!”</p> - -<p>Now came the strenuous part of the whole race—the -last lap. The <span class='it'>Kestrels</span> were visibly tiring. -Even Heavitree’s Adam’s apple was working convulsively, -while the veins in his bared arms stood -out like whipcord. Talbot, looking utterly blown, -was pulling almost mechanically, gasping through -his wide open mouth in his efforts to fill his painfully -stifled lungs.</p> - -<p>There was but one boat ahead. That was the -Pembroke one. The Welshmen were in a far -worse plight than Craddock’s crew. They had -let themselves go at the start, and were reaping -the consequences; yet they, too, were “sticking -it” with the fervid tenacity of their race.</p> - -<p>For the present Peter dare not call upon his -loyal crew for an extra spurt. They were gaining -all the time, yet without the final and spectacular -burst they would not be able to overlap their -rivals. And, of course, the Welshmen would -almost certainly respond.</p> - -<p>Three hundred yards from home the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> -gig’s bows were level with the Pembroke boat’s -stern. The coxswain of the latter could be heard -calling to his men for the final effort. It was now -Peter’s chance, provided his jaded crew could -respond to it.</p> - -<p>“Whack her up, lads!” he shouted. “Last -lap!”</p> - -<p>Both boats were now in calmer waters. Nobly -the <span class='it'>Kestrels</span> responded to their coxswain’s call. -Blinded with perspiration, with bursting lungs -and violently throbbing hearts, aching muscles -and blistered palms, they were unconscious of -everything but the desire to make that extra -spurt.</p> - -<p>Now they were dead level with the Welshmen.</p> - -<p>“Keep it up, lads!” yelled Peter.</p> - -<p>That was as much as they could do. To increase -the number of strokes was out of the -question. They were perilously close to the -breaking-point. Could they stay the course?</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> gig drew ahead. The Pembroke -coxswain in a shrill falsetto called upon his men -for a final effort. They tried. There was a sharp -crack. One of their stretchers had broken.</p> - -<p>“Hard lines on them,” thought Peter. “But -we were winning, anyway.”</p> - -<p>Then for the first time on the homeward run -Craddock glanced over his shoulder. He had a -shock. The nearest of the remaining competitors -was quite five lengths astern. Nothing short of a -disaster to the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> gig would give any of the -boats astern a chance to overtake her now, for -the finishing line was less than eighty yards -ahead.</p> - -<p>But—and that it was that gave Peter a most -disconcerting jar—close to the edge of the channel -and out of the full force of the adverse tide was -the Nottingham boat.</p> - -<p>By dint of sheer doggedness she had fought her -way through the choppy sea. Then, edging over -towards the mud-flats, she found herself under -conditions very similar to that of her native Trent. -The Nottingham Sea Scouts, admirably trained -and in the pink of condition, were not slow to -take advantage of the change of fortune. They -were now almost level with Craddock’s crew, -although separated by about fifty yards of water.</p> - -<p>“Pull, lads, pull!” shouted Peter. “For all -you’re worth!”</p> - -<p>The spirit was willing, but exhausted flesh was -unable to respond to the dictates of the brain. -Gallantly the crew bent their aching backs, tugging -ferociously at the tough ash oars. Then -Talbot missed a stroke, the badly trimmed blade -slithering ineffectually on the surface.</p> - -<p>Before the lad could recover his stroke the gun -went.</p> - -<p>“Way ’nough!” gulped Peter, and the thoroughly -exhausted rowers collapsed, sobbing in -their efforts to recharge their bursting lungs.</p> - -<p>Completely bewildered, Peter looked in the -direction of the Nottingham boat. She was over -the line, her crew paddling easily towards the -flagship. The <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> gig was also across the -line—but there had been only one gun. What -did it mean?</p> - -<p>Everyone in the anchored yachts seemed to be -cheering. So were the crowd on the beach. Then -another competing boat crossed the line with her -crew on the verge of utter exhaustion. They -received a gun.</p> - -<p>Still puzzled, Craddock was dimly aware of -the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> dinghy coming alongside and of -Mr. Grant leaning over the gunwale and patting -him on the back.</p> - -<p>“Well rowed!” exclaimed the Scoutmaster. -“Well rowed! Dead heat with the <span class='it'>Avalon</span>. -Let’s have your painter; we’ll tow you to the -beach. Yes, by Jove! you’ve tied with that crack -Nottingham crew, and honestly I never expected -you to have a look-in. Well done!”</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='232' id='Page_232'></span><h1> CHAPTER XXIV <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Snatched from the Deep</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>F</span>or</span> three consecutive days the weather remained -bright and with very little wind. -It was ideal conditions for almost every event -except sailing. The Sea Scouts held greasy pole -competitions, swimming races, diving contests, -and a great water tournament.</p> - -<p>The latter event was great fun and turned out -to be a huge success. There were forty competitors -a side, most of them in fancy dress. Each -member of the opposing teams was “mounted” -on a barrel to which was affixed a rough representation -of a horse’s head, the cask being ballasted -sufficiently to enable the rider to keep his balance -if he used the utmost caution. The offensive -weapons consisted of poles ten feet in length -terminating in a well-padded ball of rags or -oakum, and also of short sticks to which were -attached blown-up bladders.</p> - -<p>Every evening almost every member of the -numerous crews went ashore for a camp-fire sing-song, -while at various times there were competitions -in making bends and splices and other -nautical accomplishments.</p> - -<p>At the close of the fourth day’s sing-song and -after most of the audience had dispersed, Mr. -Grant sent Craddock to the wireless tent with a -message for the Scoutmaster in charge.</p> - -<p>Arriving at the tent, which was merely for the -purpose of keeping the four-valve receiving set in -the dry—for when a broadcast concert was on, -the sides of the tent were rolled up and the loud -speaker brought into the open—Peter found that -the Scoutmaster he sought had gone across to the -electrician’s quarter in order to arrange about recharging -some batteries.</p> - -<p>“He won’t be long,” added his informant, a -King’s Scout belonging to a Berwick Troop. -“Try one of these phones while you’re waiting -and see what you can pick up. It will only be -Morse on the lower wave-lengths, I fancy. Can -you read Morse?”</p> - -<p>“Rather,” replied Peter.</p> - -<p>“Guess you won’t make head or tail of this lot -unless you’ve been trained to it,” continued the -Berwick lad. “We had a skilled postal telegraphist -in last night, and he was whacked. But -you can try.”</p> - -<p>Craddock put on the head-phones, listened for -about twenty seconds, and then turned to his -companion.</p> - -<p>“There’s an S.O.S.,” he declared.</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” retorted the other incredulously. -“It will be Niton calling CQ. You’re not the -first to imagine an S.O.S.”</p> - -<p>Nevertheless the Berwick Sea Scout took up -another pair of phones. He listened and his -smile of incredulity vanished. Snatching up a -pencil, he wrote rapidly.</p> - -<p>Peter, too, tried to follow the bewildering -succession of perplexing sounds and could not -make head or tail of it. He had to wait until his -companion had taken down the message and a -reply to it.</p> - -<p>The S.O.S. was to the effect that the <span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span> -was badly grounded in a thick fog, position -approximately six miles north-west of Selsea Bill, -and that she was rapidly breaking up in the heavy -ground swell.</p> - -<p>The reply was: “Hayling Island and Bembridge -lifeboats proceeding to your assistance. -Have requested Government tugs to be sent from -Portsmouth.”</p> - -<p>The <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span> then wirelessed: “Must take -to boats.” Followed by a warning from the shore -station: “Do not attempt to land in your -boats.”</p> - -<p>Then came the distressed vessel’s final and uncompleted -appeal: “Send help quickly. We -are——”</p> - -<p>Craddock did not wait for the Scoutmaster’s -return. In fact, he rather surprised the Berwick -lad by his abrupt and hasty departure. He took -to his heels and ran as fast as he could to Mr. -Grant and told him the news.</p> - -<p>“The <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span> is the tramp we were lying -close to at Dartmouth,” he added.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Mr. Grant. “And judging by -her reported position she’s aground not far from -the mouth of this harbour. I don’t suppose we’ll -be of much use, but we’ll see what’s to be done. -Get the patrol together, Brandon. See that we’ve -first aid outfits, and bring a coil of two-inch rope -along. Warn any Scoutmasters you pass on your -way to the store, but I think most of them will -have heard of it already.”</p> - -<p>It was now nearly half-past ten. The heavy -sea fog had held all the evening and was now -spreading inland, promising to get thicker before -very long. Overhead the stars were rapidly disappearing -from view. The air was perfectly still, -yet even at that distance the muffled roar of the -surf on Chichester Bar and the adjoining Pole -Sand could be distinctly heard.</p> - -<p>In remarkably quick time the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew -assembled. Most of them had electric torches. -Heavitree had brought a lifebelt, while Brandon -had got hold of not only a long length of -two-inch rope, but also a useful coil of heaving -line.</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t we run the dinghy over on a trek-cart, -sir?” asked Talbot.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant shook his head.</p> - -<p>“It would be useless,” he decided. “You’ve -seen the breakers on that flat, sandy shore. No -boat could possibly be launched in that turmoil. -All ready?”</p> - -<p>The crew set out. They were not alone, -for already various Scoutmasters had called out -their Troops in order to patrol the beach in -case any of the <span class='it'>Lumberjack’s</span> people were cast -ashore.</p> - -<p>By this time the fog over the land had thickened -considerably. It was hardly possible to see the -outlines of the hedges on either side of the -narrow lanes, and in the darkness the only way -to find the right road was for a Sea Scout to swarm -up the various sign-posts and flash his torch upon -the painted directions. Unfortunately all the -would-be rescuers took the same route, with the -result that when they arrived on the beach they -were all bunched together, instead of being spread -out over a wide front.</p> - -<p>They could see-nothing; hear nothing but the -thunder of the breakers in the still air. Mr. Grant -realised the difficulty. Each Scoutmaster had -control over his own Troop, but there was no one -to exercise authority over the whole.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t there any District Commissioner here?” -he enquired of another Scoutmaster. “If so, he -ought to take charge. We’re doing little good -huddled together. Survivors might be thrown -ashore anywhere between the mouth of the -harbour and Selsea Bill.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a fact,” agreed the other Scoutmaster. -“Hello! Here’s a car. Perhaps——”</p> - -<p>The rays of the headlights seemed to stop short -within a few yards of the car, which had stopped -almost at the extreme edge of the hard ground. -Another four or five feet and the wheels would -have sunk in the soft sand above high-water -mark.</p> - -<p>Mr. Grant went to the side of the car. He saw -with feelings of satisfaction that one of the occupants -wore the distinctive rig of a District -Commissioner.</p> - -<p>“Glad you’ve come, sir,” he began. “We -want someone to straighten things out.”</p> - -<p>He explained. The Commissioner, a retired -Army officer, grasped the situation at once. His -powerful voice pierced the fog. In five minutes, -discipline had remedied the defect of individual -initiative, and from a fixed point patrols were extending -right and left with an interval of ten paces -between each Sea Scout. Even at that short distance -each watcher was invisible to his nearest -neighbour, but they were within easy hailing -distance, so that communication throughout the -whole line—there were about 250 Sea Scouts -spread over a front of nearly one and a half miles—could -be maintained without difficulty.</p> - -<p>The crew of the <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> found themselves in -patrol formation stepping out briskly over the -board-hard sand just above low-water mark. -There were Troops ahead of them and behind -them. At every half-minute came crisp orders -from the Scoutmasters of the rearmost parties; -until, glancing over his shoulder, Mr. Grant discovered -that the patrol immediately behind the -<span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew had extended and halted.</p> - -<p>It was now the turn of the Aberstour Sea Scouts. -Talbot halted and faced seawards; the rest continued -their march, Symington halting at the -tenth pace and so on, until the Patrol Leader -found himself on the right of his section of the -line.</p> - -<p>It was an awesome business standing still and -peering through the fog at the misty white surf -as it broke and receded almost within a couple -of yards of the watchers. All of them were already -drenched with the flying spray, and although the -salt water felt quite warm at first, a succession of -shower baths soon became not only monotonous -but extremely unpleasant. What was happening -out to sea they knew not. They could only conjure -up mental pictures of the struggle for life on -the part of the shipwrecked crew as their crazy, -ill-conditioned craft was being rapidly battered -into scrap-iron somewhere within a mile of one -section of that far-flung line of would-be lifesavers.</p> - -<p>Presently Brandon hailed his chum.</p> - -<p>“Have you got Molly?” he enquired.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Peter, who was holding the pup -in his arms. “She’s with me, but she’s got the -wind up frightfully.”</p> - -<p>“We ought to have left her on board,” continued -the Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>“There wasn’t time,” rejoined Craddock.</p> - -<p>“ ’Sides, she’d be far more terrified if she’d been -left by herself.”</p> - -<p>Another ten minutes passed. Then the Scoutmaster -of the Troop on the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> right came -up to Mr. Grant.</p> - -<p>“There’s a boat come ashore,” he reported. -“She was full of water and capsized as she was -thrown on the beach. The Weymouth Troop -have found eight of the crew. Two of them are -dead. There are a lot more to be accounted for. -Pass the information along, please.”</p> - -<p>Presently from the left came the order, “Increase -interval by four paces.”</p> - -<p>This was to fill up the gap left by the Weymouth -Sea Scouts, who, being engaged in the task of -restoring to life the apparently drowned members -of the <span class='it'>Lumberjack’s</span> crew, had left their section of -the shore unwatched. Already they were carrying -some of the survivors away in hastily constructed -stretchers to the shelter of an isolated -farm-house.</p> - -<p>“Well, that looks like business, lads,” commented -Mr. Grant, as he passed behind the line. -“There are others still to come ashore. Keep a -smart look-out.”</p> - -<p>It was easier said than done, so thick was the -fog, although the stars were beginning to show -overhead through the low-lying bank of salt-laden -vapour.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, Molly began to bark furiously and -struggled so fiercely that Peter placed him on the -sand. Instantly she darted towards the water’s -edge, and although she retreated when the next -breaker swept forward, she followed up the -receding wave and continued to bark.</p> - -<p>Simultaneously Brandon and Craddock rushed -forward. They were within ten feet of each other -before they discovered each other’s presence.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” asked the Patrol Leader.</p> - -<p>“Molly’s spotted something,” replied Peter. -“Look! It’s a life-buoy.”</p> - -<p>The next wave brought the buoy almost to -Craddock’s feet, although he had to go knee-deep -into the retiring “undertow” before he could -secure it.</p> - -<p>The canvas of the life-buoy was ripped in -several places, and most of the rope that ought -to be attached to it was missing; but painted on -it in black letters was the name “<span class='sc'>S.S.</span> <span class='it'>Lumberjack</span>.”</p> - -<p>Hurling the life-buoy out of the way of the -breaking waves, Brandon was about to resume his -post when Craddock shouted to him.</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/240.jpg' alt='' id='img240' style='width:90%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<p>“Where’s the line?” he asked. “There’s a -man out there. Look out for Molly.”</p> - -<p>At that moment Mr. Grant and Carline -appeared through the fog. Already Peter was -securing one end of the rope round his waist.</p> - -<p>“Look after Molly,” he reiterated. “She’ll -be after me if you don’t.” And, handing the -coiled portion of the rope to Mr. Grant and -Brandon, Craddock rushed into the water.</p> - -<p>For the first ten yards his progress was hastened -by the undertow. Masses of milk-white foam -mingled with moving sand were swirling round -his legs and urging him on. He could see that -the succeeding breaker would be upon him before -he could get into deeper water. If it caught him -squarely it would hurl him like a stone upon the -beach, and probably batter the breath from his -body.</p> - -<p>The crest towered high above his head. It -was almost upon him. But Peter kept a cool -head. As the wave broke, he dived into it, felt -himself being borne backwards, was conscious -of his feet coming in contact with the ground. -He wanted to kick, to leap until his head appeared -above the surging torrent. He felt he could keep -his breath no longer.</p> - -<p>At last he broke surface and found himself -beyond the breaker. He struck out vigorously. -Found himself impeded.</p> - -<p>“Pay out more line, you fellows!” he shouted.</p> - -<p>He might well have saved his breath, for his -voice was inaudible in the roar of the surf. It -wasn’t that Brandon had neglected to give more -scope to the line; it was the drag of the water -against it.</p> - -<p>There was no sign of the man he was risking -his life to save. Another wave came up, foaming -ready to break. Peter surmounted it just before -the angry crest toppled over. As he did so something -was thrown against his side—something -that felt like a sack of saturated sawdust.</p> - -<p>Instantly Peter gripped the object. It was the -senseless body of a man.</p> - -<p>Now came the supreme effort—to regain the -beach without being pounded by the breakers. -It was easy enough to come ashore—the waves -would see to that—but it was far from a simple -task to protect himself and his senseless burden -from the terrible onslaught of the hammering -surf. And such a lot depended upon the life-line -being hauled in at exactly the right moment.</p> - -<p>The life-line, hitherto a hindrance, was now -apparently uselessly slack. Vaguely, Peter found -himself wondering what possessed the fellows on -the beach: why on earth weren’t they hauling -away for all they were worth?</p> - -<p>Then it occurred to him that even at that short -distance the shore was hidden in the fog. A mild -panic seized him. What if the rope had parted -and he was being carried out to sea?</p> - -<p>Not for one moment did he relax his grip upon -his unconscious, perhaps lifeless, burden. Another -roller was on the point of breaking. Would it -batter him into a state of insensibility?</p> - -<p>It overtook him, fortunately without toppling -over. Right on the crest he found himself, being -urged towards the shore at a tremendous pace. -Then with a loud roar the unstable mass broke. -Peter felt his feet touch the yielding sand. He -was surrounded by a swirling torrent of foam and -hurled sideways like a sack of flour.</p> - -<p>Then he was conscious of the life-line tautening. -He was being swept back by the undertow. -In desperation he threw arms and legs round the -form of the helpless seaman in an endeavour to -prevent him being torn from his grasp.</p> - -<p>The rope held. Half a dozen lusty men and -youths were tailing on to it. The pressure was -terrific. The sand, washed down by the undertow, -rasped Craddock’s face, hands, and knees. -His lungs seemed on the point of bursting.</p> - -<p>Another wave was rearing its formidable crest. -Peter eyed it with apprehension. Magnified in -the fog, it looked higher than it actually was, but -the power behind it was none the less. He -wondered whether he could survive the threatened -hammering of the tremendous thunderous mass.</p> - -<p>He was dimly conscious of vague forms surrounding -him, grasping arms and legs. Still he -held on to his helpless burden, and, since they -could not be separated, the pair were literally -dragged beyond the reach of the breaker.</p> - -<p>It fell harmlessly, and, like a monster baulked -of its prey, retired growling and muttering to -merge into the turmoil of tumbling breakers.</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' title='245' id='Page_245'></span><h1> CHAPTER XXV <br/> <span class='sub-head'>Home Again</span></h1></div> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='lead-in'><span class='dropcap'>W</span>hen Peter</span> came to himself he was lying -on the wet sand with his head pillowed -on a greatcoat. Something warm was licking his -face. It was Molly. Overjoyed at her master’s -return, she could not be restrained from showing -her joy and relief in true doggie fashion, and her -delight redoubled when the Sea Scout opened his -eyes and attempted to sit up.</p> - -<p>“Good old Peter!” exclaimed Brandon. -“How do you feel?”</p> - -<p>“As if I’d been sand-papered,” replied Craddock, -with perfect truthfulness. Then, recalling -the reason for his present plight, he asked, -“Where’s the fellow we rescued? Is he dead?”</p> - -<p>“He’s alive,” declared the Patrol Leader, and, -turning to Mr. Grant, he asked in a low voice, -“Can I tell him?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, do,” answered the Scoutmaster.</p> - -<p>“Do you know who the fellow is?” continued -Brandon. “It’s Carlo Bone—Blueskin.”</p> - -<p>Peter sat up.</p> - -<p>“Really?” he rejoined. “Where is he?”</p> - -<p>“In a farm-house with the others,” replied the -Patrol Leader. “All the crew of the vessel have -been accounted for. The patrols are being withdrawn. -I say, old man, can you walk or have we -to carry you?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll walk,” declared Craddock stoutly.</p> - -<p>They assisted him to his feet. He felt rather -groggy, for he had swallowed a fair quantity of -salt water and had been considerably bruised in -his struggle with the waves. Walking required -a great effort, and he was glad to take his chum -Brandon’s arm.</p> - -<p>“I reckon this night’s work means a Silver -Cross for you, my lad,” declared Heavitree.</p> - -<p>“Think so?” rejoined Peter. “I say; now -I tumble to it. That bucket lashed to our rudder. -Blueskin must have done that. Won’t he look -bluer than he is when he finds out we know.”</p> - -<p>And Craddock went off into fits of hysterical -laughter and sat down inertly in a muddy lane.</p> - -<p>The Sea Scouts carried him after that.</p> - -<p>They did not take him on board that night. -Instead, he was put to bed in the shore hospital -tent, where Mr. Grant remained watching by -his side.</p> - -<p>Next morning Peter awoke feeling quite his -normal self except for the fact that his limbs were -a bit stiff.</p> - -<p>That afternoon Peter, accompanied by Mr. -Grant, Brandon, and Heavitree, went over to see -the man he had rescued. The visit was paid at -Blueskin’s request, for the man was really grateful. -Nevertheless the expression on his face was one -of comical dismay when he recognised the -members of the <span class='it'>Kestrel’s</span> crew.</p> - -<p>“I’m right down sorry I played the dirty on -yer,” he declared.</p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” replied Mr. Grant. “We’ll -call the account square. But why did you?”</p> - -<p>“It’s like this ’ere,” explained Blueskin. “I -war fair upset when I found you’d bought that -there boat. I wanted ’er, and seein’ as I didn’t -get ’er, I sort o’ made up my mind no one else -shouldn’t. I oughtn’t tu ’ave tried to set she -afire, but I reckoned as you’d get out afore any -’arm was done yer.”</p> - -<p>“Neither was there, fortunately,” added the -Scoutmaster. “But we didn’t know you were -the fellow. We thought you might be, so we -kept watch on your house all night.”</p> - -<p>“I knows you did,” agreed Blueskin. “You -were outside my house when I got ’ome.”</p> - -<p>“And how did you manage that?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p>Blueskin gave the suspicion of a wink.</p> - -<p>“That’s tellin’,” he answered oracularly. “But -I’m a-goin’ straight arter this, I am,” he declared.</p> - -<p>“Good!” exclaimed Craddock. “We hope -you will. But I think you can answer my question: -isn’t there an underground passage between old -Dick Marner’s shed and your cottage?”</p> - -<p>For a moment Blueskin looked thunderstruck.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he admitted. “Sure there is. ’Ow -did you twig it? Sakes alive! A chap like me -must get up very early in t’mornin’ tu get to -wind’ard of a Sea Scout, I’m thinkin’.”</p> - -<p>“How did you find out about the secret -tunnel?” asked Brandon of his chum after the -interview with Carlo Bone.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t,” replied Peter. “It was a guess on -my part. I’d been thinking things over, and, like -Mr. Grant got it out of young Marner that he -hadn’t a motor bike, that rather confirmed my -theory, although, of course, I might have been -wide of the mark.”</p> - -<p>Little more remains to be told.</p> - -<p>The Jamboree ran its course in perfect weather -and with unabated enthusiasm. At its termination, -Eric Little was sent to his uncle’s house at -Chichester, where life for him was considerably -brightened by his being able to have friends of -his own age. He lost no time in becoming a Cub.</p> - -<p>After the termination of the Sea Scouts’ marine -festival, the assembly of yachts and boats dispersed. -The <span class='it'>Kestrel</span> got away in company with -nearly a dozen craft bound for the eastern part -of the English Channel and the East Coast. -Three days later she entered Aberstour Harbour -and made fast alongside the quay in the berth -the old <span class='it'>Puffin</span> had so long occupied.</p> - -<p>“We’ve had a topping time,” declared Heavitree, -as the crew prepared to disperse to their -respective homes. “Course we’ve had sticky -times, too; but what’s the use of being Sea -Scouts if we don’t know how to tackle them?”</p> - -<p>“We haven’t done so badly,” admitted Craddock -cautiously. “We’re here, safe and sound, -that’s the main point. And I don’t think it’s -entirely owing to good luck. I rather fancy -there’s another reason, and a jolly good one.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” enquired his chum.</p> - -<p>“We’ve kept to the good old Scout’s motto: -‘<span class='sc'>Be Prepared.</span>’ ”</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:2em;font-size:1.5em;'>THE END</p> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:2em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='gesp'>THE IAN HARDY SERIES</span></p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em;'>BY</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.25em;'>COMMANDER E. HAMILTON CURREY, R.N.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em;'><span class='it'>Each Volume with Illustrations in Colour. 5s. nett.</span></p> - -<div class='blockquote0r9'> - -<p class='noindent'><span class='sc'>Ian Hardy’s</span> career in H.M. Navy is told in four volumes, which are -described below. Each volume is complete in itself, and no knowledge of -the previous volumes is necessary, but few boys will read one of the series -without wishing to peruse the others.</p> - -</div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.5em;'>IAN HARDY, NAVAL CADET</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1em;'>“A sound and wholesome story giving a lively picture of a naval cadet’s life.”</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:1em;font-size:1.25em;'><span class='it'>Birmingham Gazette.</span></p> - -<div class='blockquote0r9'> - -<p>“A very wholesome book for boys, and the lurking danger of Ian’s ill deeds being imitated -may be regarded as negligible in comparison with the good likely to be done by the example of -his manly, honest nature. Ian was a boy whom his father might occasionally have reason to -whip, but never feel ashamed of.”—<span class='it'>United Service Magazine.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.5em;'>IAN HARDY, MIDSHIPMAN</p> - -<div class='blockquote0r9'> - -<p>“A jolly sequel to his last year’s book.”—<span class='it'>Christian World.</span></p> - -<p>“The ‘real thing.’ . . . Certain to enthral boys of almost any age who love stories of -British pluck.”—<span class='it'>Observer.</span></p> - -<p>“<span class='ul'>Commander E. Hamilton Currey, R.N., is becoming a serious rival to Kingston -as a writer of sea stories.</span> Just as a former generation revelled in Kingston’s doings of his -three heroes from their middy days until they became admirals all, so will the present-day boys -read with interest the story of Ian Hardy. Last year we knew him as a cadet; this year we -get <span class='it'>Ian Hardy, Midshipman</span>. The present instalment of his stirring history is breezily -written.”—<span class='it'>Yorkshire Observer.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.5em;'>IAN HARDY, SENIOR MIDSHIPMAN</p> - -<div class='blockquote0r9'> - -<p>“Of those who are now writing stories of the sea, Commander Currey holds perhaps the -leading position. He has a gift of narrative, a keen sense of humour, and above all he writes -from a full stock of knowledge.”—<span class='it'>Saturday Review.</span></p> - -<p>“<span class='ul'>It is no exaggeration to say that Commander Currey bears worthily the mantle of -Kingston and Captain Marryat.</span>”—<span class='it'>Manchester Courier.</span></p> - -<p>“The Ian Hardy Series is just splendid for boys to read, and the best of it is that each book -is complete in itself. But not many boys will read one of the series without being keenly -desirous of reading all the others.”—<span class='it'>Sheffield Telegraph.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.5em;'>IAN HARDY FIGHTING THE MOORS</p> - -<div class='blockquote0r9'> - -<p>“By writing this series the author is doing national service, for he writes of the Navy and the -sea with knowledge and sound sense. . . . What a welcome addition the whole series would -make to a boy’s library.”—<span class='it'>Daily Graphic.</span></p> - -<p>“The right romantic stuff, full of fighting and hairbreadth escapes. . . . Commander Currey -has the secret of making the men and ships seem actual.”—<span class='it'>Times.</span></p> - -<p>“By this time Ian Hardy has become a real friend and we consider him all a hero should be.”</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:0em;'><span class='it'>Outlook.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.25em;'>SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:4em;margin-bottom:2em;font-size:1.2em;'>TRANSCRIBER NOTES</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p>Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. -Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been -employed.</p> - -<p>Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious -printer errors occur.</p> - -<p>Book title and author's name has been added to the original cover.</p> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEA SCOUTS OF THE KESTREL ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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