"Here's my card, Mr. Grant," said the stranger. "Mr. Ulysses Paynton, of the firm of Paynton and Small, the underwriters of the s.s. Getalong. Apparently the bright youth took me for an undesirable acquaintance; but we've squared that up, haven't we, Craddock?"
"It was your revolver, sir, that confirmed my suspicions."
"Revolver?" inquired Mr. Paynton. "I haven't one."
Then he laughed whole-heartedly, and drew from his pocket a steel spanner.
"Had to make an adjustment to my car," he explained, "and absent-mindedly I put the spanner into my hip pocket. So that's that. But you'll be wondering why I called to see you, Mr. Grant. I motored down to Aberstour, and finding you were at Sablesham I came on here. That made me late. My firm wished to pay a slight acknowledgment to your Sea Scouts for the work in salving the s.s. Getalong, which, you will remember, was scuttled by her captain some time ago. Will you please accept this?"
"This" was a packet of Bank of England notes to the value of fifty pounds.
CHAPTER XV
THE FISHING EXPEDITION
"Where are we making for, Negus?" inquired Patrol-leader Frank Brandon, as the fishing smack Frolic with triced-up tack, reefed foresail and small jib, threshed her way out of Aberstour Harbour.