"Wot d'ye want, Capting?" asked the taller of the two, with an insolent ring in his voice.
"We thought you were brought up too close inshore," said the Scoutmaster. "Perhaps you're strangers to this part of the coast?"
"I'll chaunce me arm over that, old mate," was the reply. "We're bloomin' well all right, cocky. When the tide serves we'll sweep the blinkin' boat rahnd to Padstow if there's no bloomin' wind."
"Give way, lads," ordered the Scoutmaster.
Not a word more was spoken till both boats had put an intervening headland between them and the cutter and her surly crew.
"They're a churlish set," remarked Mr Buckley. "I wonder what their little game is, bringing up so close to the Tea Caves?"
"Do you know, sir, I believe—although I am not quite sure—that the shorter man is one of the fellows who threw Sir Silas over Hungerford Bridge."
"Eh?" exclaimed Mr Buckley, incredulously. "I think so, sir. And another thing I noticed: those fellows said they would sweep the yacht to Padstow if there were no wind."
"That's so," agreed the Scoutmaster.
"Then why would they want to row her when there's a motor on board, sir?"