Reluctantly the Scouts and Sea Scouts bade each other farewell. The former expressed themselves as being more than repaid for their good turn by the trip in the _Olivette_. "And mind you come to Weymouth again when you have the chance," said Phillips. "Right-o," replied Peter. "But I hope we don't have to come for the same purpose. We had a rotten time until we knew the _Olivette_ was safe." The Sea Scouts re-embarked in the dinghy. Bruin preferred to swim off to the boat, but before he was hauled on board he felt very sorry for himself. The _Olivette_ was still rolling heavily in the long gentle swell. It was quite a different motion from that in a seaway--a long swing-like movement that would quickly put the most experienced seafarer on his mettle. Watching their opportunity as the _Olivette_ rolled towards them, the Sea Scouts gained the deck. Roche made the painter fast, while Peter and Eric Flemming lay at full length on the waterways in order to haul Bruin on board. It was a ticklish task, for the dog realized the danger of being crushed by the boat's bilge keel as she rolled. Twice the Patrol Leader made a grab at the animal's collar as the gunwale dropped to within a few inches of the water. At the third attempt his fingers closed round the scruff of Bruin's neck. "Got him!" he shouted. "Bear a hand, Eric." Flemming leaned outboard to assist his chum. As he did so the _Olivette_ began to roll in the opposite direction. Peter, still hanging on to his pet with one hand, grasped Eric's wrist with the other. Bruin's weight when clear of the water considerably exceeded Stratton's expectations, with the result that the Patrol Leader lost his balance and toppled overboard, bringing Flemming with him. A roar of laughter from the rest of the crew greeted the reappearance of the two lads. Both were good swimmers, and as they came to the surface well clear of the _Olivette's_ hull, they were in no danger. Even Peter and Eric grinned when they shook the water from their hair and eyes, while Bruin, delighted beyond measure at the idea that his master and Flemming were sharing his bath, began tugging at Stratton's sleeve. At length Roche jumped into the dinghy and hauled Peter over the transom. Then the Patrol Leader hiked his pet over the stern and assisted Flemming into the dinghy, while Roche scrambled into the bows in a vain attempt to escape a shower-bath as the dog vigorously shook himself. A few minutes later the _Olivette's_ motor was running. The anchor was weighed and secured, then with three ringing cheers for the 5th Weymouth Troop, who still lingered on the beach, the Sea Scouts resumed their homeward voyage. CHAPTER V Trapped by the Tide It was one of those ideal days for cruising under power. The sea was smooth, visibility good, with the sun shining brightly overhead. The rugged coast, never more than a mile away on the port hand, presented an ever changing panoramic view of the picturesque Dorset coast.