"We'd have our rest at the wrong end, so to speak, if we did," explained Mr. Armitage. "If we're at our port of departure, we can get under way directly the weather moderates, which we couldn't do if the Rosalie were at Yarmouth and we at Brightlingsea."
Breakfast over, the Sea Scouts prepared to evacuate their temporary floating home. They were sorry to leave the Olivette, but regrets were tempered by the knowledge that a bigger undertaking was awaiting them.
Before they went ashore the Olivette was cleaned down and tidied up, her decks scrubbed, ropes coiled neatly down, and a kedge run out.
Mr. Murgatroyd shook hands with every member of the crew, thanking them for the real good time.
"I'll try to follow your example," he said, "and make some sort of a sailor-man. It's never too late to learn, as I expect I've said before."
"Decent old chap," remarked Peter Stratton, when the Sea Scouts embarked in a ferry-boat and were taken ashore. "Wonder if the owner of the Rosalie is anything like him?"
"We won't know until we hand the yacht over," replied the Scoutmaster. "He's not coming with us. That reminds me, I must send a wire to our friend the Oxford Scoutmaster."
"Mr. Jackson?" asked Roche.
"Yes," was the reply. "You fellows are doing so well, that I feel out of it; so, needing someone to keep me company, I invited Mr. Jackson for the voyage from Yarmouth to Poole. He and I will have a rare, good, lazy time, sitting on deck and watching you do the donkey-work."
"I can see you doing that, sir," rejoined Hepburn, laughing. "Wonder what the Rosalie is like?"