It was plainly and simply furnished. Wooden lockers served a double purpose, as seats and receptacles for storing boat's gear. A folding table, large enough to take a full-sized Admiralty chart, was an object of considerable ingenuity and good workmanship. On the walls were framed and varnished charts of "The Solent", "The Approaches to Spithead", and "Owers to Christchurch", in addition to a bookcase filled with story-books and textbooks dealing with the sea.
In the corner stood a signal-locker containing the flags of the International Code, the flags, like the furniture, being the handiwork of the Sea Scouts. On the locker stood an azimuth compass; while on a pair of brackets by the side of the door was a powerful telescope.
In front of the hut was a flagstaff and a windlass. The latter, purchased for a mere song, came from the wreck of a barge, and served the useful purpose of hauling the Sea Scouts' gig up the steeply-shelving pebble beach, when the state of the sea permitted its being brought round from Keyhaven.
The hut and its contents alone were sufficient to prove that the Milford Sea Scouts were handy and industrious youngsters; but that was not enough to satisfy Mr. Armitage's ambitions. He wanted them to be Sea Scouts in deed as well as in name, skilled in the art of coastal navigation and smart in elementary seamanship, so that in time to come they would be worthy members of the Empire whose existence depends upon the sea.
There were difficulties in his way. He was not a wealthy man, although fairly well off. He had a considerable amount of spare time, which he decided he could put to a good purpose by raising and training a troop of Sea Scouts. The locality was unsuitable, the facilities for getting afloat few. He realized that, like a schoolmaster, he was bound to lose his boys almost as soon as they were thoroughly trained. Others would take their places, and the moulding process would continue until the time came when he, too, would have to "hand over" to a successor.
His own experience had taught him that anyone who knew how to handle a small sailing dinghy properly can sail a yacht, but it did not necessarily follow that a person who could manage a large vessel could sail a dinghy. Carrying the process still further, it was fairly safe to assume that a single-handed yachtsman could be of material assistance if he found himself on board a big craft; hence the advantage of fostering the art of boat-sailing—a pastime of which the joys never pale—is incalculable both in peace and war.
A week elapsed, after the appearance of Mr. Armitage's advertisement, and nothing resulted. The Sea Scouts, scorning the adage "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick", kept a stiff upper lip and went about their tasks unconcernedly, "carrying on" with seamanship and navigation, and taking advantage of every opportunity of getting afloat in their gig. But, at the same time, the fact was apparent that only a month of the holidays remained.
One morning—it was the last Friday in July—the Sea Scouts were preparing to launch their boat, when Mr. Armitage appeared, looking, as Dick Roche afterwards observed, like a dog with two tails.
"Heard anything, sir?" inquired the Patrol-leader.
"It never rains but it pours," replied the Scoutmaster. "We've had two trips offered us."