"Then I won't," he replied with a laugh. "Where are you from?"
Desmond told him.
"Look here," continued the internal combustion engine expert, "I'll make you a sporting offer. Take the bundle of scrap iron on board your boat and tinker about with it. I've done with the beastly thing. If you can make it go within the next hour you can have it for a fiver."
"I haven't anything like that amount," declared the Patrol Leader.
"Does that offer hold good as far as I am concerned, Sadler?" called out Mr. Graham. In the calm air he had heard every word of the conversation.
"By Jove! Graham, old son!" almost shouted the jaded victim of the outboard motor. "How on earth did you come to this part of the world? Here, you fellows, help me to unship the infernal contraption and take me aboard your craft."
The engine was unclamped from the transom and dumped on board the Spindrift's dinghy. Into her jumped Mr. Sadler, and the Sea Scouts rowed back to the Spindrift.
"Now we'll have a long kag about the good old times in the Harwich Patrol, Graham," exclaimed Sadler, gripping the Scoutmaster's hand. "Let your youngsters carry on with that rotten infernal machine. To see your familiar old figure-head again more than compensates me for hours of toil with that low-down motor. Now, then; fire away and tell me all the news about yourself."
While the two ex-R.N.V.R. men were exchanging reminiscences the three Sea Scouts took the motor for'ard. Findlay directed operations. He had a fairly sound knowledge of motor-bicycles, and the principles of an air-cooled engine varied very slightly from the two-stroke outboard motor that had completely baffled Mr. Sadler.
Findlay's first step was to clean the magneto. There were distinct evidences of moisture in the "make-and-break". Testing the plug on the cylinder he obtained a very healthy spark, but, when the plug was screwed home, there was not the faintest trace of firing.