CHAPTER XVII
THE MYSTERIOUS YACHT
UNTIL over the following Sunday the Scouts of Seal Island "stoodeasy." The usual routine was maintained, but operations necessitatingarduous work were temporarily dispensed with. The lads were all moreor less done up. Want of sleep, exposure to the rain, and a surfeitof excitement tried them to a very great extent; but, thanks to theirphysical training, they were soon little the worse for theexperiences they had undergone.
Even Coventry minor's case showed good signs of improvement. He wasstill unable to leave the doctor's house, but there was every chanceof his being fit to take part in the camp before the end of afortnight.
Early on Tuesday morning, the two patrols started on a boatingexcursion. The "Otters," with the Scoutmaster, took Varco's largestboat, while the "Wolves" embarked in a craft only slightly smaller.Both boats were provided with masts and sails, the area of the latterbeing comparatively small, so that there was little chance of acatastrophe occurring. Mr Buckley was a skilled and keen boat-sailer,while Simpson and Fraser of the "Wolves" knew enough about themanagement of a small craft under sail to be entrusted with the careof the one in which their patrol embarked.
After the gale, which had finished with the torrential rain that hadcaused the flooding of the subterranean passage, the weather set infair, with a very high temperature. The Scouts unanimously voted thatit was simply ripping weather for camping, and the discomforts of thegale were now almost forgotten.
It was the intention of the Scouts to circumnavigate Seal Island. Abetter day could not have been chosen. There was hardly any wind:what there was was off shore, while--a somewhat unusualcircumstance--the ground-swell was absent.
Past the now familiar Dollar Cove the lads rowed, pausing every nowand then to admire the fantastic outlines of the rugged cliffs.
"Mackerel in the bay," announced Mr Buckley, pointing to a shimmeringlight on the surface of the water, about half way across to BewareHead.
"I wish we had some rag worm for bait," said Jim Sayers. "There aretwo lines in the boat, but without bait they might just as well notbe there."
"Don't say that," rejoined the Scoutmaster, laughing. "Let me have alook at the lines. Ah! they're properly hooked. Sayers, I see an oldtin can under the bow thwart. Give it a rub on the leather of youroar and pass it to me."
The Tenderfoot did as Mr Buckley suggested. With a pair of pocketscissors the Scoutmaster cut three spoon-shaped pieces from the nowglittering tin, curved them with his fingers and attached the metalto the line just in front of the three-barbed hooks.
"Well I never!" ejaculated Sayers. "To think that fish make a mealout of a chunk of tin."
The lines were paid out, the metal discs jumping erratically underthe resistance of the water.
Three minutes later, Sayers felt a sharp tug on his line.
"A fish!" he exclaimed excitedly.
"Haul it slowly and carefully or you'll lose it," cautioned MrBuckley. "Yes, Sayers, you've hooked a beauty."
Wildly struggling, a fair-sized mackerel was landed into the boat,its gills impaled by two barbed hooks. After that the sport was fastand furious, and before the boats were abreast of Beware Head elevenfish were lying on the bottom boards of the "Otters'" boat, and ninefell to the lot of the "Wolves."
"There's a cutter close inshore," observed Phillips, as the boatsrounded North Head.
"She's too close in for safety," added Mayne. "She can't be very farfrom the reef where the tramp steamer struck."
"She's anchored," declared Atherton. "I can see the cable. She's agood distance this side of the reef, nearly opposite the Tea Caves, Ishould imagine."
"We'll pull close to her and see if anything's wrong. Perhaps they'vemissed the tide, and have anchored close inshore till slack water,"said Mr Buckley. "Give way 'Wolves'; we'll race you."
The "Wolves" did give way with a will, and being in a lighter andfairly narrow-beamed boat they outstripped their friendly rivals.
"That will do," ordered the Scoutmaster. "Take it easy now."
The cutter was a yacht of about ten tons. Since she had no name onher counter, Mr Buckley came to the conclusion that she belonged to arecognised yacht club in spite of the fact that she flew no burgee.
She was moored with two anchors and cables--an unnecessary businessunless she was to stay over one tide. A dinghy was made fast astern,and this was the only intimation the Scouts had that there was someone on board the yacht, for her deck was deserted.
"Yacht ahoy!" hailed the Scoutmaster.
Two disreputable-looking men clad in blue jerseys and dirty canvastrousers emerged hurriedly from the cabin.
"Wot d'ye want, Capting?" asked the taller of the two, with aninsolent ring in his voice.
"We thought you were brought up too close inshore," said theScoutmaster. "Perhaps you're strangers to this part of the coast?"
"I'll chaunce me arm over that, old mate," was the reply. "We'rebloomin' well all right, cocky. When the tide serves we'll sweep theblinkin' boat rahnd to Padstow if there's no bloomin' wind."
"Give way, lads," ordered the Scoutmaster.
Not a word more was spoken till both boats had put an interveningheadland between them and the cutter and her surly crew.
"They're a churlish set," remarked Mr Buckley. "I wonder what theirlittle game is, bringing up so close to the Tea Caves?"
"Do you know, sir, I believe--although I am not quite sure--that theshorter man is one of the fellows who threw Sir Silas over HungerfordBridge."
"Eh?" exclaimed Mr Buckley, incredulously. "I think so, sir. Andanother thing I noticed: those fellows said they would sweep theyacht to Padstow if there were no wind."
"That's so," agreed the Scoutmaster.
"Then why would they want to row her when there's a motor on board,sir?"
"A motor--how do you know, Atherton?"
"I noticed the propeller under the water, sir."
"You did? I missed that, then. I was directing my attention to thestern to see if a name had been painted out. It is quite possible,since the yacht is a fairly decent one, that those two fellows havestolen it. Such acts are not uncommon. That also might be anexplanation for their statement that they intended to use theirsweeps. They might be ignorant of how to run a motor."
"Looks fishy, sir," remarked Phillips. "Do you think, since they areclose to the mouth of the Tea Caves, that they have anything to dowith Paul Tassh?"
"The possibility is somewhat remote. Tassh is, according to allaccounts, hiding in London."
"With the bulk of the booty, sir?"
"Well, since you suggest it, there might be something in the windbetween those two surly fellows and Paul Tassh," admitted Mr Buckley."I thought we had finished with the business. However, I'll call forvolunteers to patrol the cliffs above the Tea Caves tonight if theyacht hasn't cleared off in the meantime."
With that the voyage was resumed. At the blowing holes the Scoutslanded, in order to investigate this natural curiosity; but, owing toan absence of wind and no sea running, the "performance was off," asNeale expressed it.
The lads thoroughly enjoyed a scamper over the remarkably shapedrocks, which were only accessible from the sea; and here asubstantial lunch was partaken.
"I wonder what would happen if we stopped up the blowing hole?" askedReggie Scott of his churn Sayers, pointing to an orifice in the rockabout three inches in diameter, which was worn perfectly smooth bythe violent up-burst of water.
"I reckon it would go off like a pop-gun the first time the wavesbroke under it," replied Sayers. "But what's the use? We shan't behere to see what happens."
"I'll fill it up, just for fun," said Scott. "Let's see how deep itis first."
Lying at full length on the flat-topped rock, the Tenderfoot baredhis arm and thrust it down.
"I can't reach anything like far enough, Sayers," he began. "It willtake a lot of filling up----"
His remarks were rudely interrupted by a sudden rush of compressedair. Before Scott
could throw himself clear of the blow-hole he wasdrenched to the skin by a torrent of water forced through thecircular hole in the rock.
Sayers yelled with delight, but his mirth was brought to an abrupttermination by a regular waterspout from another blow-hole close towhere he was standing. Slipping on the weed-covered rock, he subsidedon his back, and while in this ignominious position he was completelyenveloped in the falling spray.
At the first sign of the spout Atherton, Simpson, Phillips, andCoventry made a hurried dash for the boats. They were only just intime to prevent them from being dashed broadside on to the beach asthree rollers in quick succession hurled themselves up the rocks.
"It must have been the swell of a steamer," declared Simpson, afterthe sea had resumed its placid condition.
"Steamer? I saw none within a mile or so of shore," remarkedPhillips, "and the last one quite a quarter of an hour ago."
"That, no doubt, was the one that caused the three rollers," remarkedMr Buckley, who had overheard the Scouts. "The swell of a largesteamer, travelling at a fair speed, will be felt five miles off, andat a considerable time after the ship has passed abreast of that partof the shore on which the waves break. But come along, lads, we'veseen the blowing holes at work, and some of you have wet shirts inconsequence."
Into their boats the Scouts jumped, and once more the coasting tripwas resumed. Without further incident the lads landed at the cove,hauled the boats up the slope, and returned to camp for dinner.