"Friends of yours, eh?" continued the persistent questioner.
"Sort of," admitted Craddock. "Hello! My bait's gone again. The crabs are busy. I don't fish off the pierhead as a rule, but some of our fellows have gone away in the dinghy. That's our yacht over there."
He pointed to a cutter of about eight tons sitting with only a slight list on the mud.
"How jolly!" exclaimed the stranger. "Do you Scouts sail her yourselves?"
Peter shook his head.
"No, that's the worst of it," he replied. "We aren't allowed to without our Scoutmaster on board. We can use the dinghy, though."
"Do the Customs people ever search your yacht?" was the next question.
"No, why should they?" replied Peter. "We aren't smugglers, and we've never taken her across Channel. We may some day. 'Sides, the Customs officers know all about us."
"'Fraid I'm not a good sailor," admitted the stranger. "I'd be seasick. Well, I must be moving. Hope you'll have good luck when the tide makes. Good morning."
"Good morning," replied Craddock.