Before the astonished Craddock could offer any comment the Patrol-leader called to Mr. Grant to come on deck.
The Scoutmaster appeared promptly, followed by the rest of the crew, who, judging rightly by the Patrol-leader's anxious tone, were anxious to know the reason for the urgent summons.
"A mine, sir!" reported Brandon.
"By Jove, yes!" agreed Mr. Grant. "We've only just missed it."
The sinister object had evidently been under water for years. Its globular shape was thickly encrusted with barnacles and seaweed. Only a small portion of it was above the surface, but even that relatively diminutive part displayed a pair of aggressive-looking horns. These, composed of brittle material, had only to be fractured and the explosive contents of the mine would be detonated.
"Right in the fairway," remarked Peter.
"Yes," agreed the Scoutmaster. "Right in the line of shipping. It's up to us, lads, to do our best to scotch it. Carline and Phillips! You two keep aft and watch that mine. Don't lose its position whatever you do! Now, lads, down spinnaker! Smartly, now!"
The huge light triangular sail was lowered and unbent in double-quick time, and the spinnaker-boom topped-up into its usual place.
"Down helm!" ordered Mr. Grant. "Mainsheet home! Stand by headsheets!"
The Puffin came round slowly yet surely into the wind, close-hauled on the starboard tack.