"No closer," cautioned Mr. Grant to Brandon at the tiller. "Round-to well away from her stern and let's see her name." The Patrol-leader carried out his instructions, and the crew saw the letters, "_Getalong_, London," painted on her rounded stern. "She's not getting along, is she?" whispered Carline. "Unless it's to the bottom of the sea," added Hopcroft, rather awestruck at the thought that an apparently seaworthy ship was doomed. "Will it be safe to watch her go, sir?" The Scoutmaster did not reply. He was thinking deeply over a puzzling problem. Here was a steam vessel abandoned. There were no evidences of her having been in collision. Her fires were still in. Outwardly there was nothing to suggest a disaster, save for the ship being deep down aft. Yet she did not appear to be foundering rapidly. As far as he could judge she had not sunk another six inches during the last five or ten minutes. A desire to render assistance, coupled with pardonable curiosity, prompted Mr. Grant to board her. On the other hand caution urged him to keep away. He was responsible for the lives of his youthful crew, and on that account he hesitated. "I wonder if she is abandoned?" remarked Brandon. "Suppose there are people on board--gassed, injured, or something like that? Oughtn't we to make sure, sir?" "Stow canvas and start up!" ordered Mr. Grant laconically. Quickly the sails were lowered and temporarily stowed. Craddock hurried below to prepare the motor for starting. In five minutes the _Puffin_, under power but with the clutch in neutral, was almost motionless within fifty yards of the _Getalong's_ starboard quarter. "Now, lads!" exclaimed the Scoutmaster earnestly. "Listen. I'm going to board her. Brandon, you will remain here and keep the yacht going, but don't close the ship--keep your distance. At the same time don't lose sight of her. "Craddock and Phillips, you can come with me in the dinghy, but directly I jump aboard push off and lay-to. If that vessel does make a sudden plunge pull away for all you're worth. I'll have to take my chance of getting clear, but I don't fancy she will. Get the dinghy alongside, Peter." CHAPTER IX TOWED INTO PORT IT cannot truthfully be recorded that Craddock and Phillips were cool and collected--they weren't. It would be difficult to describe their true feelings. They were excited at entering upon this strange adventure, and a bit scared as to the possible results. On the other hand they had implicit trust in their Scoutmaster and could be relied upon to carry out faithfully his instructions. "Keep your weather eye lifting, Brandon!" exclaimed Mr. Grant, as the dinghy pushed off from the yacht. "Watch the fog. It may come on worse." "Ay, ay, sir," responded the Patrol-leader.