"Why, that's what we're looking for—the Mixon," declared the Scoutmaster. "We're off our course. I expected to find it off our starboard bow. Starboard a bit, Peter. That's it. Keep her at that."
The alteration of helm was promptly noticed by the crew of the Olivette. The motor-boat had been maintaining her station splendidly, the Rosalie having to reduce speed slightly to enable the slower craft to do so.
Passing a hundred yards to the south'ard of the beacon, both boats entered the Looe Stream, a short but somewhat intricate cut for craft making a passage from Spithead to the east'ard. In the actual stream there was very little sea running, although the tide set strongly, but on its western edge there was a regular, clearly-defined wall of tempestuous overfalls.
"We'll get it in a minute or so," declared Mr. Armitage. "Close the fore-hatch and the engine-room skylights, Peter. There's nothing not lashed down on deck, I hope?"
The Rosalie plunged bodily into the turmoil. White-crested waves poured over her bows and surged aft in milky foam, while spray dashed in showers high over the wheel-house. The belt of disturbed water was but a hundred yards or so in width. Beyond, the waves were regular.
Flemming was steering. The rest of the crew, including the two Scoutmasters, looked aft to see how the Olivette was faring. Greatly to their surprise they noticed that she was slowing down and displaying a tendency to fall off into the trough of the sea.
"Hope her motor hasn't given out," exclaimed Mr. Armitage.
"I don't think so, sir," replied Stratton. "There's smoke coming from her exhaust, and the circulating-pump is still working. But, look! What is Hepburn doing?"
Apparently Warkworth was in the wheel-house. Roche had left the engine-room, and with Mr. Murgatroyd was standing by the low stanchion rail on the port side. Alan Hepburn, with one foot on the broad rubbing-strake, and hanging on with one hand to a stanchion, was evidently contemplating a plunge overboard. Already all three were wet through, owing to the spray and the waves that tumbled inboard as the Olivette rolled in the trough.
Suddenly Hepburn leapt. The watchers on the Rosalie saw that he took a coil of rope with him. He struck the water feet foremost, reappearing almost before the splash of the impact had subsided. Then, raising one arm as a signal, he was hauled back by Mr. Murgatroyd and Roche.