A SUCCESSFUL RUSE
"HALF-EBB," he continued, musingly to himself. "She won't float
much before six or seven. It'll be broad daylight by then. I wonder
where we are? Can't see any sign of land. It's lucky there's no sea
on. She won't hurt; that's one blessing. Wonder what that fellow's
doing in the cabin? I'll see."
Carefully Craddock approached the still open skylight. Looking down
through the smoke-laden atmosphere of the cabin he saw that the
captive was calmly lying at full length on the starboard settee and
was seemingly deep in the pages of Peter's favourite paper.
On the swing table was a cigarette case and a spirit flask. The
occupant of the cabin appeared to be very happy! Rather ruefully the
Sea Scout compared his own position with the comfortable
surroundings in which his prisoner was taking things so easily.
"He won't enjoy himself when the yacht begins to heel," thought
Peter. "She's bound to lie right over when the tide leaves her."
Even as he watched, Craddock saw the man bring his hand up to his
forehead and slide helplessly upon the cabin floor, groaning
dismally as he did so.
In an instant Peter's feelings towards the fellow changed. Up to the
present he had treated him as a dangerous character, now he regarded
him only as a human being in distress.
"He's ill--very ill," thought the Sea Scout. "I'll do what I can to
render First-Aid, and while I'm about it I may as well relieve him
of that revolver."
Without hesitation Craddock unlocked the padlock and flung open the
doors. Nimbly descending the companion ladder he gained the cabin.
As he did so a hand shot out and grasped him firmly by the shoulder.
"Now, young man!" exclaimed the stranger briskly. "I've done you
this time. What's your explanation?"
Peter gaped at his captor. The man had scored by a ruse. He was
smiling grimly as he gripped the lad's shoulder.
"Like firing on the white flag, eh?" continued the man. "Couldn't be
helped. You wouldn't listen to reason. You thought I was reading. I
wasn't. Your Scoutmaster's shaving-mirror came in very handy. But
isn't it time to knock off fooling? The yacht's aground. If we don't
get her off she'll be matchwood before morning."
This solicitude for the _Puffin_ took Craddock completely by
surprise.
"She's all right," he protested. "There's no wind and the sea's
calm."
"All right so far," corrected the other. "You jolly well ought to
know better than that. A windless rain is invariably followed by a
very hard blow. Look at the glass--fallen three-tenths since it was
last set. That's enough warning. What possessed you to cast off the
warps?"
"Cast off the warps?" repeated Craddock. "I didn't. That was your
work."
"Rot!" commented the stranger. "But explanations can come later.
Time's precious. Get that engine running as sharp as you can. We may
be too late as it is."
Meekly Peter dived into the motor-room. Since the other fellow was
top-dog at present, it would be wise to humour him. In any case it
was worth trying to get the yacht afloat, especially as there was a
strong possibility of a gale springing up.
"She's ready," announced Craddock, emerging from the engine-room.
"I'll have to start her up from the cockpit."
"Good!" ejaculated the stranger. "There's a reversing propeller, I
hope?"
"Reverse gear," corrected Peter.
The pair went on deck. It had ceased to rain. Overhead the stars
were shining brightly, but away to the south'ard a bank of dark
clouds with jagged edges betokened the approach of the predicted
storm.
Two miles to the nor'east glimmered the harbour lights of
Sablesham--a sight that surprised Peter considerably. He had been
under the impression that the _Puffin_ had drifted to the east'ard.
Instead she had drifted to the sou'west, and was now aground on the
Tinker Shoal.
But there was no time to be lost. The motor fired at the first
swing. Craddock put the reverse lever hard back. Frothy water
swirled past the yacht's sides from stern to stem, but although the
_Puffin_ trembled under the pulsations of the motor she showed no
sign of slipping off into deeper water.
"She's on," declared the stranger. "Mind your head."
He sprang aft, uncleated the main-sheet and removed the boom-crutch.
The boom, together with the gaff and snowed mainsail, was now held
only by the topping-lift. With a heave the boom was swung out until
it was nearly at right angles to the side.
"Get outside the shrouds and shake her," commanded the stranger
briskly. "I'll bear a hand with the sweep."
Listing under the uneven balance of the heavy boom, and with Peter's
weight hanging over the side, the _Puffin_ lay well down until her
rail was within a foot of the water. At the same time the stranger,
standing in the bows, thrust with all his might at the end of a
fifteen-feet oar, while the motor was racing at full speed astern.
"She's moving," panted the stranger.
Peter could hear the metal keel grating over the gravel--slowly but
surely.
Once or twice the yacht held up, but the detention was only
temporary.
"She's off!" shouted the stranger, putting down the sweep and coming
aft. "I'll take the helm. Keep her going astern for a bit."
Not until the _Puffin_ was well clear of the dangerous shoal did
Peter receive the order, "Full ahead."
Round swung the yacht. Craddock watched with eager eyes to see what
course the helmsman would take, until to his unspoken relief Peter
saw that the _Puffin_ was heading straight for Sablesham Harbour,