"Fairly well," admitted the Scoutmaster modestly. "Knocked about there in and out of most of the creeks and harbours for the best part of ten years."
"Like to have a trip in the Rosalie?" asked Mr. Armitage. "If so, I think it can be arranged."
"Like a shot," said the other eagerly. "I haven't any fixed plans for the holidays."
"Then meet me at Yarmouth next Saturday," continued the Milford Scoutmaster. "Bring a couple of your boys if they care to come. 'Fraid there's not sufficient accommodation for more. No; nothing to thank me for. You'll have to do your whack same as the rest of us, and we'll be glad of your help."
Early on Monday morning the landing-stage, alongside which the Olivette was lying, was invaded with throngs of people anxious to get on the river. Every available boat and punt was let, steamers and motor-launches were packed, while crowds awaited their turn. It was an animated scene, and the Sea Scouts, having washed decks and snugged down, took a lively interest in the proceedings; while they were objects of curiosity on the part of the waiting holiday-makers.
For the best part of an hour Mr. Armitage and the boys were answering questions as to what the Olivette was, where she was bound for, and a hundred inquiries as to the duties performed by Sea Scouts.
Presently a short, stout, red-faced man, who looked like a farmer, made his way to the front rank of the waiting throng and took a studied interest in the boat.
"Good morning," he exclaimed at length.
"Good morning," replied Mr. Armitage.
"Any chance of a trip in this craft?" asked the stranger.