Percy F. Westerman

“ His complexion was of a dull, pasty-white hue, while his clothes hung on him like sacks.
"Why's that fellow staring so?" asked Peter.
"Looking at the yacht, I suppose," replied Carline.
"He's not: he's looking at us," declared Craddock. "Wonder if he knows Mr. Clifton?"
"Who's that? Another friend of mine?" exclaimed the skipper emerging from his cabin. "No, thanks," he continued after a brief inspection. "Never seen him before. All right, lads, let him look. We'll go below and have tea."
The crew of the Thetis were about half way through the meal when Peter put down his cup and sniffed. ”

“ He was not tall—Peter could give him a couple of inches—but he was full of energy and as active as a kitten. He was deeply sunburnt, while his bony hands were as hard as iron—characteristics of a yachtsman who gets the very best out of the pastime by taking an active part in the management of his own craft.
"I'll like that chap," thought Peter as the owner and skipper of the Thetis shook hands.
"These are the fellows I want," decided Mr. Clifton, as he gave a swift, comprehensive glance at the two alert, well-set up Sea Scouts. "If appearances go for anything they know their job. ”

“ Although the drifter was making a bare three knots owing to the drag of a fifty feet beam and a ton or more of nets, the sudden strain as the Frolic's anchor jammed against the trawl-beam well-nigh capsized Brandon.
Round swung the Frolic, towed by the craft that had so deliberately cut away Old Negus's gear.
"Belgian or Frenchie, that's what she be," declared the old fisherman. "Poachin' inside the three-mile limit. Now us knows why there bain't much fish on the Silverknoll Bank."
"What are we going to do now?" asked Brandon rather anxiously. ”

“ Evidently her quarter-warp had dragged the kedge.
"I'll put a fender out," decided Craddock, doubly careful since he was in charge of a strange yacht.
He turned out just as he was, barefooted and in pyjamas. But when he gained the cockpit all thoughts about putting out a fender vanished. The air was thick with driving smoke that failed to conceal a mass of deep red flame. The Snodburry mansion was on fire!
"Wake up, old man," exclaimed Peter to his slumbering chum. "Wake up! Snodburry's house is all on fire." ”

“ Mapplewick Harbour lay in a bay three miles beyond the head.
"More grub," decided the skipper. "Peter, if you will take the helm for a spell we'll get our supper. Then you can have yours and turn in."
"I'm not sleepy, sir," protested Craddock.
"You will be," said Mr. Clifton. "A few hours' rest will do you good. Keep her as she is, she'll almost sail herself. Shout if you sight anything."
The two men went below, leaving Craddock in charge of the deck.
"That youngster's proved himself a brick!" declared Mr. Clifton warmly. "You ought to be proud of him, Grant." ”

“ Gregory. "We'll keep her on this tack and stand out to sea. We won't feel the tide so much farther out."
He glanced at his watch and then looked aloft at the fluttering burgee.
"Wind dropping, too," he observed. "No matter. If there's a flat calm we've the motor to fall back upon. Now, you fellows, how about tea?"
The meal over and the things stowed away the Sea Scouts gathered in the cock-pit and listened to yarns from their entertaining Acting Scoutmaster.
Lower and lower sank the sun, like a ball of fire in a red sky. The sails flapped and finally hung idly in the still air. ”

“ By this time Peter was unpleasantly aware that it was still raining in torrents and that he was without an oilskin. During the excitement occasioned by the yacht breaking adrift he had hardly noticed the downpour. Now that the strenuous period of activity was over, the rain felt horribly cold as it beat down upon his unprotected head.
"She won't drift very far," thought Craddock. "The tide doesn't run so hard outside, and Mr. Grant ought to be back by now. He'll be bound to see the riding-light." ”

“ Working rapidly, yet with extreme caution, he bent the end of the line to one of the links of the chain; then, striking out until he was well clear of that barnacle-encrusted menace, he broke surface.
"All secure!" he spluttered. "Let's hope the buoy won't bump before we're well away. Strike out, Peter."
Both swam their hardest. Breathlessly they clambered over the yacht's side, and without loss of time the Puffin gathered way and drew clear of the danger zone. Peter and his Scoutmaster went below to dress.
As soon as possible they regained the cockpit. ”

“ Clifton. "The seafaring strain must have skipped several generations and suddenly developed in young Craddock. Sailors are born, not made, you know."
They conversed in loud tones, for the buzzing of the Primus stove and the thud of the waves against the yacht's weather bow rendered conversation in an ordinary tone inaudible.
Once Rex stirred himself and gazed intently through the companion into the dark night, but the action was unnoticed by either of the two men. Apparently satisfied the sheep-dog stretched himself at full length on one of the bunks. ”

“ With a fair wind and tide there was every reason to expect that the remaining five miles would be reeled off in quick time and without incident.
"Those fellows are a time having their tea," commented Peter, as the sound of chattering voices came from the cabin where the rest of the crew were doing full justice to good fare with their healthy appetites. "Aren't you peckish, Frank?"
"Just about," agreed the Patrol-leader. "But I'd rather hang on to the tiller than waste time over grub. Hello! Wind's dropping. Does it mean we'll have to sweep the yacht the rest of the way?" ”

“ Beyond that were two small sleeping cabins separated by an alley-way so narrow that a bulky man would have to turn sideways to make his way along. Next to the cabins was a galley, while right for'ard was a roomy fo'c'sle with a couple of folding cots, above wide locker seats.
Lying at full length on one of the seats was a massive sheepdog, who, finding the visitors were accompanied by his master, lazily wagged his stumpy tail.
"Let me introduce you to Rex," said Mr. Clifton. "Rex, old boy, these aren't ordinary visitors, so don't look as if you were bored stiff. 'Shun, salute!" ”

“ Obediently the crew gazed stolidly at a fishing smack moored alongside the opposite quay, notwithstanding a strong inclination to know what was going on behind their backs.
"Now, this way!"
The Sea Scouts faced about. On the coaming of the cockpit lay the signal code-book, while from beneath the latter projected eight pieces of rope each showing an equal length.
"The fellow who draws the short piece is to be ship-keeper," explained Mr. Grant. "Now, Symington, Talbot, Hopcroft, Carline, Phillips, Wilson." ”

“ Clifton as a grey, seven-arched bridge appeared in sight. "There's only one spot where we can anchor here without taking ground at low water—and we don't want to do that."
For the next twenty minutes Craddock and Carline were far too busy to take stock of their surroundings, but when sails were stowed, and the Thetis moored fore and aft they were able to enjoy a well-earned spell. ”

“ Gregory gave no sign that he had noticed the fact, yet the crew knew perfectly well that on the homeward beat they would have a two-knot tide to run against.
Half an hour later the yacht was abreast of the harbour piers. The Deputy Scoutmaster brought his glasses to bear upon the crowded port.
"H'm," he ejaculated. "I don't think we'll put in. It's later than I thought, lads. Ready about—lee-ho."
The head-sail sheets were let fly, mainsheet hauled in and the helm put down. The Puffin went about and settled down on her dead beat to wind'ard.
"She's not making much, sir," remarked Brandon. ”

“ Peter shook his head.
"No, that's the worst of it," he replied. "We aren't allowed to without our Scoutmaster on board. We can use the dinghy, though."
"Do the Customs people ever search your yacht?" was the next question.
"No, why should they?" replied Peter. "We aren't smugglers, and we've never taken her across Channel. We may some day. 'Sides, the Customs officers know all about us."
"'Fraid I'm not a good sailor," admitted the stranger. "I'd be seasick. Well, I must be moving. Hope you'll have good luck when the tide makes. Good morning."
"Good morning," replied Craddock. ”

“ The yacht's propeller began to churn, and the Puffin glided gently to within a dozen yards of the tramp.
"We're going to get that craft into Aberstour, lads," declared the Scoutmaster.
"Tow her in, sir?" asked Brandon.
"Hardly," replied Mr. Grant. "Our twelve horse-power wouldn't get her along at more than one mile an hour. The tide would set us well beyond Oldbury Head before that.
"No; I want you, Brandon, to take the Puffin back to Aberstour. North by west is the approximate course. Keep your lead going and mind the Medlar Shoal. ”

“ Without hesitation Craddock assisted the man to his feet. Snodburry, giving Peter a vindictive look, muttering something uncomplimentary about boys in general and Scouts in particular, hobbled away.
"Dashed if I would have helped the old blighter up," exclaimed one of the shopkeepers. "He thinks he's the only fellow in Ravensholm who owns a dog. Your animal was passing along as quietly as a lamb when——"
"I thought, perhaps, that Rex tripped him up accidently," interrupted Peter.
"Not a bit of it," was the rejoinder. "He treats every dog the same either lashes out with his stick or hacks at it. ”

“ Peter gaped at his captor. The man had scored by a ruse. He was smiling grimly as he gripped the lad's shoulder.
"Like firing on the white flag, eh?" continued the man. "Couldn't be helped. You wouldn't listen to reason. You thought I was reading. I wasn't. Your Scoutmaster's shaving-mirror came in very handy. But isn't it time to knock off fooling? The yacht's aground. If we don't get her off she'll be matchwood before morning."
This solicitude for the Puffin took Craddock completely by surprise.
"She's all right," he protested. "There's no wind and the sea's calm." ”

“ Active enough in most respects, he did not relish work aloft. On previous occasions his paid hand undertook tasks of that description. Yet he was quite ready to essay the work of sending the obstinate topsail down on deck.
"I'll go, sir," volunteered Peter.
Mr. Clifton looked very pleased, but the next moment he realised that the job was a dangerous one.
"I'm used to going aloft," continued Craddock. "Am I not, Mr. Grant?"
Scoutmaster Grant, who had relieved the owner at the helm, nodded assent.
"He's as active as a monkey, Clifton. Up you go, Peter!" ”

“ The Scoutmaster travelled light. His luggage consisted of a small handbag and a haversack.
"Quite a smart little craft," exclaimed Mr. Gregory as they embarked in the dinghy. "Eight tons! Why, you could go almost anywhere in her. Our yacht is only about half that tonnage, and we've been as far as Cornwall and the Norfolk coast. Had lunch yet? No? Neither have I. But we'll get under way and grub as soon as we are clear of the harbour."
This suggestion was met with unqualified approval. The Sea Scouts were not ones to let a meal stand in the way when there was chance to get an extra hour afloat. ”

“ Yet the mine did not explode.
"Probably a dud," commented Brandon when the firing ceased. "They've sunk it, more than likely."
But after a brief interval the gunboat reopened fire. Suddenly a huge column of water was flung high in the air, to be followed almost immediately by the terrific crash of the explosion.
"Good-bye to our beaker, boathook and signal-flag," remarked Peter.
"Lost in a thundering good cause," added the Scoutmaster gravely. "Now, lads! up helm. We've got to look slippy if we're to save our tide!" ”

“ The way he worked the Puffin out of the narrow harbour, as if he had been used to her for years, proved that. It was also evident to the crew that he knew the approach channel, which was none too well buoyed, for without once referring to the chart or asking for information, he edged the yacht well to wind'ard of the Medlar Shoal and gained the open sea.
"Here, take her!" he exclaimed, signing to Phillips to take over the tiller. "Course Test by South. We'll run as far as Otherport and beat back. How about grub, you fellows?" ”

“ Lying on his side with his feet curled up, for the engine-room was cramped and awkwardly shaped, Peter tackled his self-imposed job. Altogether it took him the best part of half an hour.
"We're gaining now," declared Mr. Gregory. "Tide's easing a lot. Keep your eyes skinned, you fellows, and see if you can pick up Oldbury Head Light."
"Engine ought to be all right now, sir," reported Peter. "Shall we start her up and stow canvas?"
"Start her up by all means, but we'll keep the sails set and beat to wind'ard with the motor to help us. One long tack to seaward ought to do the trick." ”

“ CHAPTER XXIII CAUGHT BY THE SQUALL
"I can trust young Craddock to do anything or go anywhere within the bounds of possibility," declared Scoutmaster Grant. "He's a bit imaginative, I admit, and apt to jump to conclusions, but he's got the makings of a fine, trustworthy man."
"He is certainly plucky," agreed Mr. Clifton. "And he has proved himself very useful on board the Thetis. He seems to have distinguished himself in several ways while I was off the yacht, visiting my brother, who was taken suddenly ill. ”

“ Getalong was in a thick fog. For another, the old tramp was in a decidedly unseaworthy condition. It was a mystery how the Board of Trade ever passed her on the last survey, or how the underwriters had been persuaded to insure her for sixty thousand pounds. But what weighed most heavily upon the captain's mind was the knowledge that by some means or other the Getalong must not reach port again.
"What's the matter with the Old Man, Bill?" inquired the quartermaster, as for the tenth time in half an hour Captain Quelch walked to the weather-side of the bridge and leant over the rails. ”

“ The heel of the yacht during the squall was too great for the maximum inclination of the swing-table, consequently the tea-things had slid off and were lying in a disordered heap on the floor, together with the best part of the ship's library and the cushion of the wind'ard bunk.
But it was not for that that Rex had given alarm.
The violent motion had unshipped the Primus stove from its gimbals and the fierce blue flame had burnt a considerable part of the fo'c'sle floor, notwithstanding the wet state of the boards. It was owing to the latter circumstance that the fire was not more serious. ”

“ In an instant Peter's feelings towards the fellow changed. Up to the present he had treated him as a dangerous character, now he regarded him only as a human being in distress.
"He's ill—very ill," thought the Sea Scout. "I'll do what I can to render First-Aid, and while I'm about it I may as well relieve him of that revolver."
Without hesitation Craddock unlocked the padlock and flung open the doors. Nimbly descending the companion ladder he gained the cabin. ”

“ The yacht being "stiff," she could carry this additional canvas with ease even in a much stronger breeze. Now she was slipping through the dancing, sunlit water at a very modest three knots.
"Jolly sight better than sitting in a stuffy court," remarked Peter Craddock, referring to the recent trial of a certain Harry Benz, who, under the name of George Gregory, had attempted to smuggle a quantity of cocaine. ”

“ Viewed from the quayside the Thetis looked very little larger than the Puffin. She was ketch-rigged, with roller headsails. All her canvas was tanned, thus doing away with the necessity of sail-covers. What little brasswork she had shone like gold, but as far as possible all the metal work was galvanized iron, Her cockpit was small, but owing to her beam and the narrowness of her raised cabin-top, there was plenty of deck space. She was whaler-sterned—a great advantage in a heavy following sea. On the port side was a pair of davits from which hung a dinghy fitted with an outboard motor. ”