"We'll pull their legs, sir," declared Peter, as he hauled the mascot on deck. "I'll take him below out of the way and then signal to ask them where he is. That'll put the wind up them."
"A better way, I think, will be to invite them all on board to tea," suggested the Scoutmaster. "We'll have to bring them off in the dinghy. Then there'll be some commotion when they can't find Bruin. Hail them, Peter."
At the Patrol-leader's stentorian "Ahoy!" Hepburn's tousled head appeared above the coaming. Alan was evidently in the midst of his toilet.
"Tea's nearly ready," shouted Stratton. "Mr. Armitage wants you all to come on board. We'll send the dinghy."
Within a few minutes Stratton was alongside the Olivette. Her crew boarded the waiting boat, Mr. Murgatroyd beaming with satisfaction at the picturesque surroundings of the sheltered creek that was to be the Olivette's home port.
"Where's Bruin?" inquired Stratton. "You aren't going to leave our mascot all alone, are you, Alan?"
"'Course not," replied Hepburn, although, if the truth be told, Bruin had been overlooked in the bustle of 'snugging down and squaring up'. "Here, Bruin—come along, good dog!"
No Bruin appeared. Hepburn whistled, but without the desired result.
"He's asleep in the after-cabin, I expect," he suggested.
"You're a fine fellow to have charge of a dog," said Peter scornfully. "He ought to appear at once at your whistle."