The children shot off to get George’s boat. He kept it tied to a rough little wooden pier in a cove nearby. He used it for fishing and it was a good, strong little boat.
“George, did you see anything of the people who are going to buy the Old House?” asked Jack eagerly.
“Yes,” said George, who was mending his fishing lines. “They came and asked me to tidy up the garden a bit and to get a couple of women from the nearest village to scrub down the house. And they wanted to know a tidy lot about the coast around here!”
“Did they? What for?” asked Mike.
“That’s what I’d like to know!” said George, with a laugh. “That man’s up to no good, I reckon! He wanted me to sell him my boat too, when I told him it was the only one hereabouts.”
“Oh, George! You didn’t sell it to him, did you?” cried Jack in dismay.
“Of course not,” said George. “I wouldn’t part with my boat, not for a hundred pounds! I don’t think they wanted the boat to use themselves though - I just think they didn’t want me rowing round about this coast for a bit.”
“George! Do you think they are smugglers then?” cried Mike. “I thought smugglers used aeroplanes, not boats nowadays.”
“They’ve got some little game on,“ said George, packing up his nets neatly into the bottom of the boat. “But I’m not going to help them by selling my boat. I’m going to keep my eyes open.”
“So are we, George, so are we!” cried the four children excitedly. They told him all about their adventure in the Old House that day. George listened. He got into his boat, which was floating by the side of the little pier, and beckoned to the children to get in.