"Then that accounts for it," decided Mr. Grant. "There was a regular torrent coming in through the valve until by a lucky chance the suction drew that dead sheep. The carcase acted as a valve and stopped or nearly stopped the inflow. Now it's safe to conclude that the vessel won't sink." Mr. Grant looked at the _Puffin_. She was still in about the same place, and fairly visible in spite of the wreathing fog. "_Puffin_, ahoy!" he hailed. "Ay, ay, sir," replied Brandon. "Close a bit." "Ay, ay, sir." The yacht's propeller began to churn, and the _Puffin_ glided gently to within a dozen yards of the tramp. "We're going to get that craft into Aberstour, lads," declared the Scoutmaster. "Tow her in, sir?" asked Brandon. "Hardly," replied Mr. Grant. "Our twelve horse-power wouldn't get her along at more than one mile an hour. The tide would set us well beyond Oldbury Head before that. "No; I want you, Brandon, to take the _Puffin_ back to Aberstour. North by west is the approximate course. Keep your lead going and mind the Medlar Shoal. When you get there tell Weatherhead, the master of the tug _Stormcock_, to put out to us at once. Let him know that the job's worth a hundred or more." "Ay, ay, sir," replied the Patrol-leader, keenly alive to the possibilities of sole command. "And another thing," continued Mr. Grant. "You may pass some boats making for the shore--boats from this vessel. If they ask for a tow do so, but on no account must any of you even hint that the _Getalong_ is still afloat." "And how about you, sir?" inquired the Patrol-leader. "Craddock, Phillips and I are going to stand by," replied the Scoutmaster. "There's no danger unless we're run down by another vessel. Between us I think we can manage all right till the _Stormcock_ arrives." The _Puffin_ departed on her errand. Mr. Grant told the two Scouts to come on board and hoist in the dinghy. "Now," he continued briskly. "There's some bilge water to be got rid of. It's lucky I know something--not much, though--of steam engines. We'll try getting the donkey engine to work." Coals were shovelled into the foremost boiler. Slowly but surely the needle of the pressure gauge rose until the head of steam was sufficient for the work required. In less than half an hour the steam bilge-pipes were at work, throwing huge jets of water over the side, while in a couple of hours the _Getalong_ was again in her normal trim. {Illustration: "THE SQUAT LITTLE TUG LOOMED UP, HER CREW AUGMENTED BY SIXTEEN WILDLY EXCITED SEA SCOUTS." [_P_. 61} That was all that could be done, at least for the time being. A tedious wait ensued, until Mr. Grant decided that they ought to anchor. Hitherto such a precaution was hardly necessary, since the east-going tide had changed fifty minutes ago and the opposite or west-going stream was setting the _Getalong_ back to the approximate position where the _Puffin_ left her.