"She's a whopping craft, after all!" exclaimed Ted Coles, as the dinghy drew near the guardship.

Viewed from without, the guardship turned out to be an old Thames barge, about eighty feet over all and from fifteen to eighteen feet beam. The whole of her two holds had been built upon, with a double-decked structure extending the whole width of the ship except for about fifteen feet amidships, where the deck-houses came to the outer edge of the original coamings, thus leaving two sheltered portions of the deck. Aft, the upper deck terminated twelve feet for'ard of the lower deck, the roof of the latter boasting of a large teak skylight. There were several large glass windows, while a short lowermast and light topmast gave a finishing touch to the Wootton Bridge Sea Scouts' guardship.

Making the dinghy fast fore and aft to a couple of booms, the Sea Scouts followed their Scoutmaster on deck, and waited with ill-concealed eagerness while he unlocked the door leading to the upper deck.

They found themselves in what was styled the chartroom, a space about six feet in length and occupying the extreme width of the ship. In it were a compass, a flashing signal lamp, a signal locker with a complete set of flags, hand semaphore flags, a couple of telescopes, and on the bulkhead two large charts of Spithead and the Solent.

On each side were windows commanding a view abeam and ahead, while right aft another window, long and narrow, gave an uninterrupted view of the entrance to the creek and the sea beyond.

Leading out of the chartroom was a wide, doorless opening, communicating with the club-room and two sleeping-cabins on the upper deck; while a steep brass-treaded ladder with brass hand-rails gave access below.

On the lower deck were the dining-saloon, kitchen, and two more sleeping-cabins, with nearly seven feet headroom throughout, while right for'ard was a low-roofed storeroom. Abaft the dining-saloon, and gained by means of a small sliding door, was the bathroom, which in the days when the guardship was a sea-going Thames barge had served as the skipper's cabin. "Jolly fine, isn't it, sir!" exclaimed Desmond. "And did the Wootton Bridge Sea Scouts do all the work of converting her?"

"Every bit, I think," replied Mr. Graham. "I remember Mr. Tweedie writing to me about it. They cemented the floors and the space between the sides and the lining with ferro-concrete—nearly forty tons of it—before they commenced the woodwork. Altogether it took them seven months to finish the work."

"It must have cost them something," observed Frank Bedford.

"About a couple of hundred pounds," replied the Scoutmaster. "They raised every penny of it by themselves—concerts and that sort of thing—without cadging a single halfpenny. Well, come on. How about grub? Then we'll go to general quarters, stow gear, and sling our hammocks."