Presently Brandon hailed his chum.
“Have you got Molly?” he enquired.
“Yes,” replied Peter, who was holding the pup in his arms. “She’s with me, but she’s got the wind up frightfully.”
“We ought to have left her on board,” continued the Patrol Leader.
“There wasn’t time,” rejoined Craddock.
“ ’Sides, she’d be far more terrified if she’d been left by herself.”
Another ten minutes passed. Then the Scoutmaster of the Troop on the Kestrel’s right came up to Mr. Grant.
“There’s a boat come ashore,” he reported. “She was full of water and capsized as she was thrown on the beach. The Weymouth Troop have found eight of the crew. Two of them are dead. There are a lot more to be accounted for. Pass the information along, please.”
Presently from the left came the order, “Increase interval by four paces.”
This was to fill up the gap left by the Weymouth Sea Scouts, who, being engaged in the task of restoring to life the apparently drowned members of the Lumberjack’s crew, had left their section of the shore unwatched. Already they were carrying some of the survivors away in hastily constructed stretchers to the shelter of an isolated farm-house.