"Sorry, but we're away to-morrow," was the reply. The two men shook hands and parted, the Scoutmaster, hot and tired, making his way to the dinghy.
* * * * *
At seven sharp, the Sea Scouts were at the quay landing steps. There was no sign of the Spindrift's dinghy. The yacht was not visible from where they stood, a large tramp steamer lying between her and the Dartmouth side of the harbour.
At half-past seven, no Scoutmaster being forthcoming, Desmond suggested going on board.
"We can get a boatman to put us off," he said. "It's quite possible Mr. Graham has gone for a row in the dinghy, and it's taking longer to get back against the tide than he thought."
"And we can have grub ready when he returns," added Findlay. "Something hot and tasty, you know."
He winked at Hayes. Desmond, being "cook of the day", didn't greet the suggestion with boisterous enthusiasm.
Returning on board the Spindrift, the lads prepared for the overdue Scoutmaster's arrival. It was not until eight-thirty that Mr. Graham showed up, looking very hot and tired.
Offering no explanation, he sat down at the table where the meal was in readiness. The rest of the crew couldn't understand it. It was not like their Scoutmaster.
But half-way through the meal, Mr. Graham rather astonished them by roaring with laughter.