Without knowing how he managed it, Peter heaved the helpless man until his head and shoulders were without the window. Then he got astride the sill and groped for the top rung of the ladder, by this time unable to decide what to do. He was suffocating, but even in his half stifled state he realised that if he let go of his burden, Mr. Snodburry would probably break his neck by the fall. A burst of flame from the lower window enveloped the ladder. Something had to be done, and that quickly. "Coming, Peter!" shouted Carline. This time Craddock did not forbid him. He was only half conscious that his chum was shouting, until Carline's head and shoulders appeared above the flame-tinged smoke. "Let go!" bawled Carline. "I've got him." Peter let go. Like a sack of flour the bulky figure of Mr. Snodburry vanished. There was a crash and the ladder disappeared. Summoning up his last remaining strength Peter jumped and landed on his hands and feet upon the soft turf. Carline, with his left arm dangling helplessly, was dragging the rescued man clear ... Brass helmets glinted in the firelight ... That was the last Peter remembered until he found himself in bed. The two Sea Scouts admitted next afternoon that they hadn't done so badly and had got off lightly. Peter was slightly burnt about the legs and had had the greater part of his hair and eyebrows singed off; Carline had his left arm in splints with a fracture of the wrist. They were in the Cottage Hospital, and in an adjoining bed was Mr. Horatio Snodburry, whose neck had been saved at the expense of Carline's wrist. True to his trust, Peter, declaring that he felt quite all right, went on board the _Thetis_ that evening, where he was warmly greeted by Rex. Next day Mr. Clifton returned and Carline was sent home to Aberstour by train. According to the usual run of things, Mr. Horatio Snodburry ought to have gratefully thanked the Sea Scouts for saving his life, and by virtue of his escape ought to have lived for ever afterwards in love and charity with his neighbours. But he did neither. Perhaps his mind was still rankling over the pound that he might have got had the Sea Scouts not assisted in recovering Farmer Thorley's ducks. CHAPTER XXIII CAUGHT BY THE SQUALL "I CAN trust young Craddock to do anything or go anywhere within the bounds of possibility," declared Scoutmaster Grant. "He's a bit imaginative, I admit, and apt to jump to conclusions, but he's got the makings of a fine, trustworthy man."