Thieves
"What do you think of him, sir?" asked Flemming, indicating the
disappearing figure of Mr. Murgatroyd.
"Hardly cricket, Flemming," replied the Scoutmaster, "asking me to
pass an opinion. He's our employer, so to speak."
"I didn't mean anything disrespectful," explained the Sea Scout. "I
thought it was jolly decent of him to give us that hamper of
provisions. What with those we bought we'll feed like fighting-cocks.
He's been telling us awfully funny yarns as we came along; he's quite
a humorist, and so chirpy."
"Peter Pannish," declared Warkworth. "He doesn't seem to have grown
up. Hope I'll be as brisk as he is when I'm his age," he added, with
a philosophical air.
Having snugged down and cleaned the engine, all hands piped to tea.
It was a pleasant meal eaten on deck in the brilliant sunshine, while
Mr. Murgatroyd's contribution was of a choice and lavish kind.
"Now," said Mr. Armitage, consulting his wristlet watch, "it's six
o'clock. Time for a good brisk stroll before supper. What's that I
hear, Woodleigh? A suggestion to go to the 'pictures'? All those in
favour? None. Your motion's lost, Woodleigh. For my part, I wouldn't
waste a beautiful evening like this in a hot, stuffy room, and I'm
glad five of you share my opinion. On a long, dull winter's evening
it's different. One hand will have to remain on board, so you had
better toss for it."
A coin was spun until only Woodleigh and Roche were left in the
running.
Roche grinned at his companion.
"Hard lines if you lose, Bill," he remarked.
The coin glinted in the sunlight and fell head uppermost. Woodleigh
had chosen tails, and he had lost.
"Nemesis, ship-keeper!" exclaimed the Patrol-leader. "Never mind.
Basking on deck and watching the boats go by is preferable to the
cinema and a jolly sight more healthy."
At half-past nine the rest of the crew came back, and after supper
turned in. So tired were they with the long day in the open air that
they all slept like logs, until Mr. Armitage bawled in nautical style
into the fo'c'sle: "Show a leg, show a leg, and shine! Sun's over the
fore-yard!"
"Can we bathe, sir?" asked Roche.
The Scoutmaster gave a glance at the swift-flowing current.
"I don't think it's advisable," he replied. "There's too much run of
water. We'll put into a quiet backwater farther down stream, and all
hands can have a swim. Besides, there's none too much time. We must
have breakfast cleared away, and have everything in readiness for Mr.
Murgatroyd."
"'Fraid you won't!" exclaimed the owner, with a boisterous laugh, as
he stepped on board. "Caught you Sea Scouts napping, or nearly so.
Carry on and get breakfast. It will be a treat to watch you
youngsters eat. Remind me of the days when I had an appetite. Don't
worry, I'm an hour before my time; but all Nature seemed to be
calling, so I got up early."
While the engine was being started up--an operation that Mr.
Murgatroyd made a valiant and determined attempt to carry out but
without success--Stratton went up to his Scoutmaster.
"I can't find one of our Manila ropes, sir," he reported. "It was
coiled up on the fore-deck last night all right."
"Has anyone taken it below?" asked Mr. Armitage.
Inquiries of the rest of the crew resulted in the statement that none
had touched the rope, although several affirmed that it was there
when they turned in.
"In fact, sir," said Roche. "I remember moving it a couple of inches,
because part of the coils was resting on the fore-hatch."
"Apparently some of the light-fingered fraternity have paid us a
nocturnal visit," declared the Scoutmaster. "I hardly expected there
would be thieves on the upper Thames, although, I believe, their name
is legion lower down. Anything else missing?"
The loss was immediately reported to the _Olivette's_ owner, but Mr.
Murgatroyd treated the matter almost with indifference.
"Bad luck, Armitage," he observed. "It was considerate of the thief
not to pinch the other two, otherwise the boat might have drifted
down to the next lock or over the weir. That would have given you a
bit of a shock, wouldn't it?"
The second stage of the trip was begun in glorious weather, and
thanks to a comparative scarcity of other craft, and to the fact that
most of the locks were open, good progress was made. By this time the
Sea Scouts were quite expert in taking the _Olivette_ through the
locks, knowing exactly how much way to carry until the boat's nose
was within a few feet of the closed gate.
"Shall we ask Mr. Murgatroyd to have lunch with us?" asked Warkworth,
who, as cook for the day, was rather proud of his handiwork in the
culinary department.
"Delighted!" exclaimed the owner, when the proposition was put to
him.
"We'll stop at Goring," decided Mr. Armitage, "and climb the hill
above Streatley. The view is superb, I'm told. Lunch can come after.
It's a pity for half the crew to be feeding while we are passing such
lovely scenery."
This programme was duly carried out, and, on re-embarking, Mr.
Murgatroyd, Mr. Armitage, Roche, Woodleigh, and Warkworth went to
lunch, while the others remained on duty.
The meal was but half over when Stratton, from the wheel-house, gave
the order for Flemming to stand by. The latter grasped the lever of
the reversing-gear and awaited the next order.
"Surely we haven't got to Pangbourne Lock already," remarked the
Scoutmaster. "What is it, Peter?" he inquired raising his voice.
"Launch broken down, sir," replied the Patrol-leader. "They're asking
for assistance."
Even as he spoke, the _Olivette_ bumped on the bottom of the river,
listed heavily to starboard, sending an avalanche of plates, dishes,
and cups upon the floor of the cockpit. Still carrying way, she
grated over the obstruction into deeper water.
At the shock, Mr Armitage clambered up the iron ladder and looked
around. It was no fault on the part of Stratton that the boat had
grounded. She was almost exactly in the middle of the river, and had
hit upon a submerged bank that had evidently been formed during the
recent floods.
"Good job our propeller is above the keel line," declared the
Scoutmaster. "Apparently those fellows have bumped, but with
disastrous results."
He indicated a 35- or 40-foot launch, drifting broadside on at a
distance of 80 yards from the _Olivette_. Over her port quarter ran a
rope stretched as taut as an iron bar.
"Hi, gov'ner!" shouted the coxswain of the launch. "Kin yer give us
er tow as far as Readin'?"
"What's wrong?" asked Mr. Armitage.
"Hit summat fust goin' orf an' then our line got rahnd the screw.
Proper lash-up, that's wot it is."
"Right-o," agreed the Scoutmaster. "We'll give you a pluck as far as
Reading."
He went for'ard and, bending down, spoke through the open window of
the wheel-house.
"Something more for you to practise, Stratton," he said. "Now, carry
on, just as if I weren't here."
The Patrol-leader considered a few moments, then, "Stand by the
wheel, Hepburn," he ordered. "I'll go on deck and give directions
from there."
By this time the rest of the crew had left their interrupted meal and
were preparing to assist in the towing operations, Roche and
Warkworth going aft ready to heave a line.
Very slowly and deliberately the _Olivette_ was manoeuvred within 5
or 6 feet of the broken-down craft. Roche was preparing to heave a
line when the Patrol-leader hurried aft.
"Let them pass us a line," he said hurriedly, and in a low tone.
"I'll tell you why later."
As the _Olivette_ glided slowly past the launch, Stratton shouted:
"Now then, pass your rope smartly."
The man in the bows of the launch obeyed promptly; Peter took a turn
round the after towing bollard and gave the word "easy ahead".
As soon as the _Olivette_ and her tow had steadied on their course,
Stratton went up to the Scoutmaster.
"Very well done, Peter," said Mr. Armitage.
The Patrol-leader flushed with pleasure.
"It wasn't that I want to speak to you about, sir," he said. "It's
the towing-warp. It's the one that was stolen from us."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Armitage. "Are you quite sure of that?"
"Quite, sir. If you'll go into your cabin and look through the
after-scuttle--that won't arouse suspicion--you'll find that there's
West Country whipping on the rope. I noticed that the ordinary
whipping was almost chafed through, so I put on a fresh lot at
Oxford."
"We'll have that back then," decided the Scoutmaster. "I'll speak to
Mr. Murgatroyd about it. If he likes to prosecute he can; but,
personally, it would mean a great waste of time for us."
The owner was almost of the same opinion.
"I'd run the blighters in as a warning to others," he said, "only
there's the fuss of police proceedings. I think if we get the rope
back and give the thieves a jolly good scare that will answer our
purpose."
Evidently the purloiners of the warp were either ignorant of the fact
that the vessel that had them in tow was the same craft from which
they had "annexed" the rope very much earlier in the day, or else
they thought that there was no suspicion on the rightful owners'
part. One man was steering, while the other--puffing away at a
cigar--was staring vacantly at the water.
Entering the next lock presented more difficulty, owing to the
motor-launch towing astern, but Peter managed the operation quite
successfully.
"Right yer are!" sung out the helmsman of the launch, when both boats
were opposite a boat-yard in Reading. "Cast off, an' thanks."
"I'll trouble you to cast off," rejoined Mr. Armitage sternly.
A well-feigned look of astonishment appeared on the fellow's face.
"Wot for?" he asked. "It's our bloomin' rope, ain't it?"
The while the Sea Scouts were hauling in the slack until the two
boats were almost touching.
"Possession may be nine points of the law," continued the
Scoutmaster, "but that warp belongs to this craft."
"Rot!" ejaculated the man in the launch. "It's ours."
"Since how long?"
"Wot d'yer wanter know for?" asked the other insolently.
"We lost a warp like that this morning," pursued Mr. Armitage. "And
this happens to be the identical one."
"You'd better look somewhere else for it," suggested the fellow.
"This ain't it. If yer wants to know, I paid five bob for it a month
or more ago."
"It would have been dirt cheap at the price," commented Mr. Armitage
drily. "I wish I could get hold of a bargain like that--honestly, of
course. However, we are digressing. That's our warp. We recognize our
private marks. Either you cast off at once, or I shall be compelled
to put the matter into the hands of the police."
The threat was sufficient. Surlily the men slipped the warp from the
bits.
"Hold on a minute," cautioned Mr. Armitage. "We'll lay you alongside
the stage."
This was done. The Sea Scouts coiled away the retrieved rope and
prepared to resume, when to their surprise they saw three policemen
dart from behind a shed and neatly handcuff the crew of the launch.
"One moment, sir!" called out the sergeant authoritatively. "Come
alongside. I wish to ask you a few questions."
It quickly transpired that the prisoners were "old hands". They had
stolen the launch from Abingdon and were on their way to Reading,
where they hoped to ransack their prize and leave the hull for its
owner to claim.
Mr. Armitage explained how the _Olivette_ fell in with the disabled
craft, but made no mention of the stolen rope. Even then he had some
difficulty in convincing the representative of the law that the
evidence of the Sea Scouts would not materially assist the
prosecution.
"Another half-hour wasted," commented the Scoutmaster, glancing at
his watch. "We'll be lucky if we get as far as Henley to-night."