"Hard lines on old Tress," declared Fuller. "He'll come out with flying colours, of course; but just fancy the poor fellow cooling his heels ashore waiting for another command when out there----" And with a comprehensive sweep of his hand he indicated the seemingly limitless expanse of the North Sea--the arena where the question of naval supremacy will be settled, let us hope once and for all time in favour of the glorious White Ensign. CHAPTER XXIV ENTWISTLE'S DECISION "So this is the coastguard station?" asked Billy Barcroft of his youthful guide. "Any chance of getting a conveyance to the nearest station Tongby, I believe?" "I am afraid not, sir." "Even this donkey might be pressed into service," continued the flight-sub, indicating Butterfly, who, having been placed "under arrest," was browsing on the green surrounding the flagstaff. "Although I've had enough of donkeys to last me for some considerable time." Little knowing that the animal under discussion was the self-same one that had given him the slip at Barborough, Billy, accompanied by his two comrades, entered the detached building known as the look-out house. The ground floor was utilised as a kind of store, where arms and nautical gear were kept. Above was a large room furnished like an office, in which was a telephone as well as a large telescope mounted on a tripod so as to command a clear view of the sea. Being night the windows were closely shuttered, while double doors prevented any stray beams from escaping into the night. "Up aloft, sir," said the scout. "I'll telephone through and see if a trap or a car can be sent from Tongby. This is our mess room," he explained. "There's a good fire going. Hullo! There's some one here already. I think it's the gentleman who told us about the spy." Seated on either side of the roaring fire were Peter Barcroft and Philip Entwistle. The former's face was turned away from the door, and at first Billy failed to recognise his parent. Nor did he the vet., for Entwistle's face was elaborately and liberally embellished with sticking-plaster, as the result of First Aid on the part of the Scouts following their determined onslaught on the brink of the cliff. Entwistle had taken his gruelling in rightdown good part. He was still under nominal arrest, for having been made a prisoner he could only be released at the order of a superior officer. Already a report had been telephoned through and a reply was momentarily expected.