Tom blinked his eyes as he studied the features of the coastguard.
"Can't recall your tally, mate." he replied.
"Not Tubby Young, boy 1st class aboard the old Polyandra back in 'nought nine, an' you chief bos'un's mate?"
"Sure I do," exclaimed Boldrigg. "But you've altered the cut of your figurehead. How's things?"
The old shipmates conversed for a few moments. Then the coastguard suggested trying the creeks on the Isle of Wight shore.
"I've had my glass on Thorness Bay and as far down as Hamstead," he added. "There's no craft up again the beach. Like as not she's pushed into Newtown."
The Scouts now re-embarked. It occurred to them that not only was the possibility of success diminishing but that they were hungry.
"We'll carry on as far as Cowes, anyway," decided Peter. "We'll make inquiries there, and buy some grub at the same time. All ready? Get her head round, Alan."
It was a long business stemming the now fierce tide. Half-way across the Island shore they spoke a coaster anchored while waiting for a fair tide. From her master they learnt that there had been someone on deck since sunrise, and certainly no motor-boat answering to Olivette's description had passed between Egypt Point and Stone Point.
"No use carrying on." said the Patrol Leader. "We'll stand across to the opposite shore and put into Newtown for grub. A pull on that mainsheet, Dick. Sit more to windward, you fellows."