"Think again," said Mr. Gregory.
Whilst Wilson did think Phillips exclaimed: "I know, sir. She's not a steamer, 'cause there's no masthead light. We are, although we're under sail."
"Quite right," replied Mr Gregory. "At sea a motor vessel rates as a steamer. Wind's dropping again. Get the canvas down, lads; we'll carry on under motor alone."
The work of lowering sails was quickly performed.
"Hello, sir!" exclaimed Brandon. "Signalling?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Gregory. "That vessel has been signalling to us while you were lowering sails. She wants something; we'll run alongside. Mind the dinghy, one of you, if we have to go astern. Fenders out on the starboard side."
The Sea Scouts obeyed with alacrity. A midnight meeting with another craft was something out of the ordinary.
"What does she want, sir?" inquired Wilson and Carline.
"That I can't say," replied Mr. Gregory. "She may be in distress—sprung a leak, short of water, or half a dozen other causes. We'll soon see. Stand by with the reverse gear, Phillips. Ease her down a bit."
The strange vessel was now looming in the starlight. She was a craft of about fifty tons, ketch-rigged with dark sails.