"You'd better look somewhere else for it," suggested the fellow. "This ain't it. If yer wants to know, I paid five bob for it a month or more ago."
"It would have been dirt cheap at the price," commented Mr. Armitage drily. "I wish I could get hold of a bargain like that—honestly, of course. However, we are digressing. That's our warp. We recognize our private marks. Either you cast off at once, or I shall be compelled to put the matter into the hands of the police."
The threat was sufficient. Surlily the men slipped the warp from the bits.
"Hold on a minute," cautioned Mr. Armitage. "We'll lay you alongside the stage."
This was done. The Sea Scouts coiled away the retrieved rope and prepared to resume, when to their surprise they saw three policemen dart from behind a shed and neatly handcuff the crew of the launch.
"One moment, sir!" called out the sergeant authoritatively. "Come alongside. I wish to ask you a few questions."
It quickly transpired that the prisoners were "old hands". They had stolen the launch from Abingdon and were on their way to Reading, where they hoped to ransack their prize and leave the hull for its owner to claim.
Mr. Armitage explained how the Olivette fell in with the disabled craft, but made no mention of the stolen rope. Even then he had some difficulty in convincing the representative of the law that the evidence of the Sea Scouts would not materially assist the prosecution.
"Another half-hour wasted," commented the Scoutmaster, glancing at his watch. "We'll be lucky if we get as far as Henley to-night."