"Which makes it bad for others who cannot afford to pay through the nose," rejoined Mr. Graham. "Fortunately, I know the ways of the longshore-men, and Messrs. James Jell and George Grainger have the reputation of being the biggest rascals amongst the boatmen of the Island. I found that out before we went for the dinghy. They had to clear out from Ventnor on account of a very shady transaction, and at Sea View they narrowly escaped prosecution for stealing gear from another boatman."
"I've been talking matters over with my wife," said Mr. Collinson, abruptly changing the subject. "Naturally I don't want to thrust myself upon you longer than I can possibly help. And I'm not at all keen upon going into apartments for the next six weeks. I came down here to be afloat, and I jolly well mean to be afloat, a broken arm notwithstanding." The Scoutmaster nodded gravely.
"You're not intruding upon us," he said. "What we did was up to us as Scouts."
"I do not doubt that," rejoined Mr. Collinson. "But tell me: your lads wear the Southend-on-Sea shoulder-straps; what brings you down to this part of the south coast?"
Mr. Graham explained.
"Then you haven't a—er—guardship, I think you call it, of your own?"
"No; but we have an ex-naval boat," replied Mr. Graham. "My lads get a good deal of fun and instruction out of her."
"Centre-board?" inquired Mr. Collinson, with the interest of a typical yachtsman in nautical matters.
"No, unfortunately," admitted the Scoutmaster. "It limits us, of course; but half a loaf's better than no bread. At least we've something to go afloat in, and she isn't such a bad sort of craft."
"To-morrow," announced Mr. Collinson, "my wife and I are going on board our yacht. We intend to use her as a house-boat until I'm fit again. In this sheltered creek there will be no difficulty about getting ashore, and my wife can manage the dinghy quite well. If you wouldn't mind mooring the Ocean Bride about a cable's-length astern of you I'll be most grateful."