The Tenderfoot knew. Although that type of sail is not common in the Essex estuaries, he had seen Scottish fishing-boats at Yarmouth.
"A sail you have to lower a little and set it on the other side of the mast whenever you go about, sir," he replied promptly.
"Which means a lot of hard work, especially in a stiff breeze," added Mr. Collinson. "Well, that would be beyond you fellows, I fancy, but you needn't let that trouble you. The Spindrift is ketch-rigged with gaff mainsail and mizzen. She's rather under-canvassed, which is in her favour. The West Country boatmen used to tell me she'd 'starve me before she drowned me', which is the same as saying she's slow but very seaworthy. She has a cabin and a watertight cockpit, so if you happen to be caught out there's little to fear, provided you know how to manage her."
"Where is she, sir?" asked Hayes. "At Cowes?"
"A good deal farther away than Cowes," came the reply. "She's at Bude, which is in Cornwall. You'll have to sail her round Land's End."
"How topping, sir," exclaimed Desmond. "When can we go for her?"
"That, I take it, depends upon your Scoutmaster's arrangements," said Mr. Collinson. "It is out of my province altogether. I'll write to Brice and Sons—they're in charge of her—and tell them to launch her and put her on moorings as soon as possible. Well, that's that. I wish you jolly good luck with the Spindrift."
The Sea Scouts gave three cheers, then, almost falling over each other and themselves in their excitement, they went on deck to discuss their good fortune.
"I wonder why he gave the yacht to us?" asked Bedford.
"'Cause we did him a few good turns," replied the Tenderfoot.