"The less you say about it the better," remarked Phillips.
"No 'tain't. I mean to turn King's evidence, so the sooner I get's it off me chest the better, says I. Bill is that silly lubber Tassh's brother-in-law, that's wot yer don't know, eh? Well, Bill 'ad 'is knife inter old Gwinnear over the shippin' strike. I knows as 'ow Bill 'ad a 'and in chuckin' the old josser inter the Thames: that's gospel truth. An' then 'e cods old Tassh inter sneakin' the silver. Told 'im 'e 'd 'ave 'arf the proceeds, and Bill and me 'ud share the rest, and Tassh like a blinkin' fool believed 'im. 'Tis like this——"
"Yacht ahoy!" came a peremptory hail from without.
Phillips dashed up the companion-ladder, and gained the deck to find a coastguard gig alongside.
"Hulloa, my lad!" exclaimed the petty officer in charge. "What's the game? Having a joke with us, eh? Some of you Scouts signalled to us that some of the thieves were on board with the stolen silver."
"One of them is," replied Phillips. "You're a little too late. He is a prisoner; the other one is also captured. He's on shore, and if you hurry up you may have a look in when our fellows collar Mr Tassh."
* * * *
Upon rejoining the "Wolves" the elated "Otters" found their comrades keeping watch in front of the "needle's-eye." Until their Scoutmaster's return Simpson would not allow his patrol to enter the inner cave. Nevertheless there was now no need for absolute silence, and the lads were able to converse and wile away the otherwise tedious vigil; nor was there any necessity to do without artificial light.
"Now, Simpson," said Mr Buckley, "it's the 'Wolves'' turn. You've plenty of candles?"
"Yes, sir."