"There is nobody there now, sir," Seth answered. "Mark Redisham is out at sea with the mine-sweepers. I've just been making things a bit tidy. I'm sorry I haven't time to stay, sir; but I've got to go down to the naval base to see our Scoutmaster. Mrs. Daplin-Gennery has gone into the town in her motor-car; but I daresay if you ask the cook she will show you into the trench, or," he reflected that Mr. Croucher was lame, "you could get into it yourself easily enough if you're careful about how you go down the ladder."
Mr. Croucher looked somewhat disappointed. He had resolved to ask Mark Redisham to dig a similar refuge in his garden at Rose Cottage.
"Gone out mine-sweeping, has he?" he ruminated. "When will he be back?"
"I don't know, sir. Perhaps in a week; perhaps in a day or two."
"That reminds me," pursued Mr. Croucher, detaining Seth with a grip on the boy's shoulder. "Is it true that Redisham has invented a new contrivance for picking up German mines, and that the Admiralty have adopted it?"
"They're always making improvements of one sort or another," Seth answered evasively.
"Yes, I suppose so. But I understand that this invention of Redisham's is not only an improvement, but an entirely new idea, on the principle of a torpedo net, and that it's the means of saving dozens of valuable lives. I have noticed some of the mine-sweeping boats going out with curious gear at their prows. How is it worked?"
Seth Newruck was not quite sure whether or not he was expected to regard the matter as a naval secret.
"How is it worked, eh?" repeated Mr. Croucher. "I am sure you know."
"I'm afraid it would take too long to explain, sir," Seth answered guardedly. "You should go down to the harbour and get one of the naval officers to show you. But there's the cook at the kitchen door, sir. I must be off. Good-morning, sir."