"Someone's been——" began Craddock, then, reining in his thoughts, he exclaimed, "Timing's slipped, Frank. Hang on a minute, I'll see if I can adjust it."
"Better not," objected the Deputy Scoutmaster. "It's a tricky business in a bad light. There's a faint breeze springing up."
"I can do it, sir," persisted Craddock.
"All right. Carry on, but be careful not to lose any of the parts." Lying on his side with his feet curled up, for the engine-room was cramped and awkwardly shaped, Peter tackled his self-imposed job. Altogether it took him the best part of half an hour.
"We're gaining now," declared Mr. Gregory. "Tide's easing a lot. Keep your eyes skinned, you fellows, and see if you can pick up Oldbury Head Light."
"Engine ought to be all right now, sir," reported Peter. "Shall we start her up and stow canvas?"
"Start her up by all means, but we'll keep the sails set and beat to wind'ard with the motor to help us. One long tack to seaward ought to do the trick."
This time the motor fired easily.
Midnight found the Puffin, on the port tack at least ten miles from shore. A slight haze had completely dimmed the powerful light on Oldbury Head, while the lights of Aberstour were quite invisible.
"Green light on the port bow, sir!" reported Wilson. "She keeps clear of us, doesn't she, sir?"