"I hoped to find you here, Armitage," said Mr. Murgatroyd. "In fact I missed you by less than an hour at Ramsgate. Come aboard."
"We're replenishing a depleted grub locker," observed Mr. Armitage, "so we won't stop. We'll call for you on the way back if you'll care to have lunch on the Rosalie. You'll find your old crew. This is Mr. Jackson. No, he's not Rosalie's owner He's a friend assisting us on our way. Right-o; we'll be alongside at eleven."
With the dinghy laden with fresh beef, potatoes, cabbages, bread, and a variety of smaller commodities, the foraging-party rowed down the river and called for their guest. The two paid hands who formed the Olivette's crew declined the invitation to visit the Rosalie, and Mr. Armitage fancied that Mr. Murgatroyd looked relieved at their decision.
"Now tell us of your adventures," suggested the Scoutmaster, when Mr. Murgatroyd had inspected the internal arrangements of the yacht.
"There's not very much to tell," said the Olivette's owner. "I soon got fed up with the East Coast. Too many sand-banks to my liking. I believe the Olivette found a sand-bank at least three times on each occasion she got under way. So I decided to keep her in the Solent. It's merely a two hours' train journey from Waterloo to Southampton, and you're in sheltered water right away."
"The difficulty was a crew. I thought of telegraphing to you at Yarmouth, but I knew you would have your work cut out with the Rosalie. The men I engaged at Brightlingsea—good fellows they were, too—couldn't get away, as they had to go fishing later on in the month, so I got hold of the two brigands you saw on board. Goodness only knows where they hail from. They certainly aren't East Coast men. However, I managed to get going, made Ramsgate, and found that you had just left. Held on, looking into Folkestone, Newhaven, and Shoreham on the chance of finding you, and finally came on here in half a gale of wind. And," he added proudly, "I wasn't sea-sick. I feel like an old salt, although I know I've a lot to learn yet. Must get hold of some textbooks on navigation."
"Don't," interrupted Mr. Armitage earnestly. "If you do, you'll probably chuck it up as a bad job. Three-quarters of the stuff in books on coastal navigation isn't really necessary. It might be useful, but it's not essential."
"Then what is?" asked Mr. Murgatroyd.
"Common sense, resourcefulness, and an ability to read a chart," replied the Scoutmaster. "These, in my opinion, are the essentials, coupled with a nautical instinct. One must be born, not made, for the sea, you know."
"My innate nautical instinct seems to be developing rather late in life," declared Mr. Murgatroyd. "At any rate, I like it. Jolly sight better than hogging it in a motor. When are you leaving here?"