Awaiting his opportunity, Findlay, with the slack of the painter over his left arm, sprang upon the deck of the yacht, while Mr. Graham fended off. Desmond followed, and finally the Scoutmaster leapt on board, steadying himself by the shrouds. The dinghy, left to its own devices to a certain extent, drifted rapidly astern, until she brought up with a jerk that almost wrenched the painter out of Findlay's hands.
"Below there!" hailed the Scoutmaster again, as he peered down the companion-way in a vain attempt to see what was taking place in the unlighted cabin.
"Come on down," replied a somewhat faint and quavery voice. "Sorry I can't get you a light."
"That's easily remedied," declared Mr. Graham, as he switched on his electric torch. "What's the trouble?"
With Desmond and Findlay close at his heels the Scoutmaster descended the slippery, brass-treaded ladder leading to the yacht's saloon. There on one of the bunks sat, or rather reclined, a man of about fifty years of age. His face looked grey and drawn. He was supporting his right arm with his left, the sweater-sleeve of which looked ominously lumpy just above the wrist, while a dark stain was showing on the woolly garment.
"Fracture, eh?" inquired the Scoutmaster.
"Double fracture, to be precise," replied the owner of the yacht. "You're Sea Scouts, I see? Thought at first you were the coast-guards."
"Sort of substitute, you know," rejoined Mr. Graham. "Now let's see what the trouble is," he added briskly.
Jock Findlay was ready with his first-aid outfit, Desmond lit the cabin-lamp, but the erratic motion of the yacht so affected it in spite of its being gimballed, that the confined space was poorly illuminated.
With a pair of sharp scissors the sufferer's sweater and singlet sleeves were ripped open, and the arm exposed to view. It was not a pleasant sight, for in two places the ends of fractured bones had forced themselves against the skin. In addition, there was an abrasion that was bleeding freely. "'Fraid it will give you gip," said Mr. Graham apologetically, as he prepared, with the assistance of his young companions, to set the broken limb. "I'll have to grin and bear it," replied the injured man stoically. "But before you start--in case I make a fool of myself, you know--can you take my yacht into Wootton Creek?"