Knowing the set of the tides, the Scoutmaster felt pretty hopeful that he could pick up the drifting yacht. He was still hoping that Craddock had paid out more chain and that the _Puffin_ would be found brought up within a mile of the entrance to the harbour. But when the boat gained the open sea Mr. Grant did not feel quite so optimistic. Even at a short distance the harbour lights looked dim. Seaward not a glimmer of any description was visible. For the best part of forty minutes the Sea Scouts pulled steadily. The boat was heavy and beamy, but the lads by double banking three of the four oars, kept her going at a steady pace. "We'll go back," decided Mr. Grant. "She doesn't appear to be anywhere this way. The rain's easing a bit. We may be able to see better presently." "Light right astern, sir!" reported Brandon, almost as soon as the boat's head was turned in the direction of Sablesham. Mr. Grant looked over his shoulder. "Your eyesight's better than mine, Brandon," he remarked. "What sort of light?" "White, sir." Ten minutes later Brandon gave a whoop of joy. "It's the _Puffin_, sir," he announced. "I know the bark of the motor." No explanations were asked or given until the _Puffin_, with two boats towing astern, brought up in a secure berth in Sablesham Harbour. There, in the cosy cabin, Scoutmaster and Sea Scouts crowded to hear the story of the _Puffin's_ adventures. "Here's my card, Mr. Grant," said the stranger. "Mr. Ulysses Paynton, of the firm of Paynton and Small, the underwriters of the s.s. _Getalong_. Apparently the bright youth took me for an undesirable acquaintance; but we've squared that up, haven't we, Craddock?" "It was your revolver, sir, that confirmed my suspicions." "Revolver?" inquired Mr. Paynton. "I haven't one." Then he laughed whole-heartedly, and drew from his pocket a steel spanner. "Had to make an adjustment to my car," he explained, "and absent-mindedly I put the spanner into my hip pocket. So that's that. But you'll be wondering why I called to see you, Mr. Grant. I motored down to Aberstour, and finding you were at Sablesham I came on here. That made me late. My firm wished to pay a slight acknowledgment to your Sea Scouts for the work in salving the s.s. _Getalong_, which, you will remember, was scuttled by her captain some time ago. Will you please accept this?" "This" was a packet of Bank of England notes to the value of fifty pounds. CHAPTER XV THE FISHING EXPEDITION "WHERE are we making for, Negus?" inquired Patrol-leader Frank Brandon, as the fishing smack _Frolic_ with triced-up tack, reefed foresail and small jib, threshed her way out of Aberstour Harbour. The old fisherman, usually a man of few words, gave a glance to wind'ard before replying.