"One of the fishermen, perhaps——"
"They are honest men, and it is against their primitive yet effective code of honour to trifle with the gear of anybody's boat. Still, although there is a faint possibility that such might have taken place, and we have an explanation for the broken thread, the double occurrences seem to suggest very forcibly that some one has landed on Seal Island during the night and has paid a visit to the Tea Caves."
"Are we going to explore the caves again to-day, sir?"
"If time permits. Our morning and afternoon are pretty full up: we may make an opportunity after tea. But turn those fellows out, Atherton; it's time, and there's a lot to be done before we pay a visit to Farmer Trebarwith."
As soon as the meal was over and the camp tidied up, the two patrols prepared for their trip to Polkerwyck Farm. The weather still remained calm and bright, and there was little or no wind. All the same the ground-swell was troublesome, as the "Wolves" learnt to their cost, for upon landing, a heavy roller threw their boat broadside on to the beach, and drenched the lads to the skin.
"It's salt water; it won't hurt," shouted Leader Simpson to his patrol. "Our clothes will be dry by the time we get to the farm."
Meanwhile Atherton had landed and was quietly and unostentatiously examining the other boats hauled up on shore or else lying within the shelter of the land-locked harbour. Presently he went up to Mr Trematon.
"There are our thole-pins, sir: I found them in that double-ended boat," he announced, pointing to a whaler lying just inside the old stone pier.
"One of Peter Varco's boats," observed the Scoutmaster. "Perhaps, after all, he had occasion to land on Seal Island last night. He might have gone to look at his boat in Dollar Cove. We'll ask him."
The old Cornish fisherman was discovered sitting in the sun and mending his nets by the side of his cottage.