He took off his glazed hat as he spoke.
"Well, Gumley I'm sorry we disturbed you. Look here, take those artichokes up to the Grange when they're ripe and ask my cousin, the squire, to give you fifty shillings for them. Say I said so. Now, men, we'll get back. We owe the smugglers one for this, and we'll pay it back, all in good time."
CHAPTER VII
THE BEST-LAID SCHEMES
There was a good deal of grumbling among the men as they trudged back to Wynport. No man likes to be made a fool of, and a Jack Tar as little as any.
"This is what comes of doing landlubbers' work instead of fighting the French on sea," growled Turley.
A heavy rainstorm that came on did not improve their tempers, and when, just as they marched into Wynport, they were overtaken by Mr. Goodman, riding at a smart pace from a cross-road, they began to mutter uncomplimentary remarks about the zealous officer.
"Any luck, Mr. Hardy?" he cried, as he passed.
"None," replied Jack shortly.
"Sorry for that. Perhaps your search was not thorough enough: your men aren't used to it."