Stopping only to drink a cup of tea and eat a bullybeef sandwich, Mr. Graham resumed his quest. Another visit to the yacht agent's place proved unsatisfactory. The foreman could give no further information; none of the other hands could throw any light upon the matter.
The Scoutmaster's next step was to board the two coasters. The master of each was sympathetic, but could not give any news of the missing Patrol Leader. Inquiries of the coast-guard were equally fruitless.
"Bless you, sir!" exclaimed the look-out man. "We get dozens of youngsters up-along here all day. Unless they get too near the cliff or start heaving stones at the hut we don't take much stock of 'em. He'll turn up all right, sir, never you fear. If he'd a-come to harm you'd have 'eard about it long ago. Still, I'll keep my eyes open an' I'll warn my relief when he takes over."
Undecided in his mind as to what course he should now pursue, Mr. Graham was like the proverbial "cat on hot bricks" during the rest of the evening. Being responsible for the missing boy he hesitated to telegraph to Desmond's parents. Should the Patrol Leader turn up safe and sound it would be a false alarm, calculated to cause needless anxiety to them. On the other hand, if anything serious had befallen the lad it was gross remissness on the Scoutmaster's part not to have communicated with his people at Southend.
The same argument applied to the suggestion of communicating with the local police.
"Hang it all, Findlay!" exclaimed Mr. Graham at length. "I can't stick this any longer. We'll search together for him. Hayes, you had better remain here in case Desmond puts in an appearance while we are away."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied both lads promptly.