Peter went for'ard. Under the wheel-house was a tap communicating with the fresh-water tank under the foredeck. Upon turning the tap the Patrol Leader had to come to the conclusion that the cook's report was correct. There was only a slight trickle of water. "Evidently our friends the thieves were a bit heavy on the fresh water," remarked Mr. Armitage. "Wonder what they used such a quantity for? Fortunately there's enough to make the cocoa with. To-morrow we'll run alongside the quay and fill up by means of a hose." The night passed without incident, although Bruin persisted in barking at the few belated craft that were making for their moorings. The Sea Scouts were getting used to this sort of thing, for whenever the _Olivette_ was in a strange harbour, the dog seemed to have a fixed idea that no other boat ought to be in the vicinity; and when, as often happened, there was another dog to be seen, Bruin simply bristled with indignation and barked the more. "Water rats," as the longshore thieving fraternity are called, wouldn't have much chance surreptitiously to acquire the _Olivette's_ gear when Bruin was on board. [Illustration: THE HIGH-PRESSURE JET CAUGHT THE TENDERFOOT FULL IN THE FACE (missing from book)] Next morning Hepburn, who was "cook of the day", could only obtain enough fresh water for half a cup of tea per head, and then only by waiting patiently at the full-open tap while the water trickled slowly. So directly the dry meal was over the crew set to work to take the _Olivette_ into the harbour. Here they found no vacant berth alongside the quay, but under the harbourmaster's directions they brought up against a three-masted schooner flying the Italian ensign. "The _Giuseppe Emilio_," said Roche, reading the name on her stern. "She's a whacking big craft. Wonder what she's for?" "Loading clay," replied Mr. Armitage. "There's a great quantity of clay shipped away from Poole. Stand by: here comes the hose." As a matter of fact there were two hoses coupled together, leading from the hydrant on the quay across the _Giuseppe Emilio's_ deck to the _Olivette_. "How many gallons do you want, sir?" shouted the harbourmaster's assistant. "Two hundred, please," replied the Scoutmaster; "we're all ready." Roche had opened the deck-plate, and had inserted the nozzle of the hose into the three-inch pipe leading to the tank. There was a preliminary gurgle, and then like a young torrent the water poured into the tank. "This is some stunt," declared Roche. "Better than pouring it in bucket by bucket as we usually do." Before anyone could offer any remark, the tank overflowed. Roche, attempting to point the hose overboard, slipped on the streaming deck. Still grasping the nozzle, he sprawled at full length, while a high-pressure jet caught the Tenderfoot full in the face, hurling him backwards into Flemming's arms, and simply soaked every Scout in the well.