The suggestion met with approval, and forthwith they "tucked in," at the same time keeping up a lively flow of chatter.
Presently the conversation turned to the subject of smuggling.
"There's not much of that done nowadays," remarked the deputy Scoutmaster. "The coastguards and custom-house people are far too smart. The game isn't worth the candle, apart from the dishonesty of the whole business. Yet only the other day there was an attempt to run a cargo at Sablesham, where I live. A. vessel from France came into harbour and unloaded part of her cargo. Amongst it were half a dozen cases of boots consigned to one of the leading tradesmen in the town—the mayor, in fact. He knew nothing about them—hadn't ordered them. But he paid freightage and duty and took delivery. When the cases were opened they were found to contain—what?"
"Tobacco," suggested Carline.
"Hardly," replied Mr. Gregory with a smile. "The cases contained boots and shoes, but they were all lefts."
"Not much good to anybody, then," remarked Phillips.
"So the mayor thought," continued Mr. Gregory. "There was nothing to show where the consignment came from, and as the vessel had left they couldn't be put on board again. So after a while they were sold by auction. Some fellow from London, a total stranger, bought them for less than the mayor had paid for freightage."
"Then where did the smuggling come in?" asked the Patrol-leader. "It was all done openly."
"It was," agreed Mr. Gregory. "But the Customs people 'smelt a rat.' Before the stranger from London could remove his purchases one of the Customs officers picked up a shoe and knocked the heel off. It was a hollow heel, and inside was a Swiss watch. The Londoner was one of a gang. He got away, but he must have lost a lot of money, for every one of the odd shoes had a watch hidden inside the heel."
During the whole of the afternoon the Puffin held on her course. It was one of those delightful, whole mainsail breezes, sufficient to keep the lee rail steadily awash.