For provisions each lad had a couple of long rolls of bread in his haversack. Thelma had brought biscuits and butter; Yvonne had provided a tin of ground coffee and condensed milk--a meagre fare on which to essay a voyage across the North Sea, but enough to hazard the journey without fear of actual starvation. Kenneth was by no means a novice in seamanship, On more than one vacation he had spent part of the time in motor-boating in Southampton Water, where a cousin of his kept a high-powered craft. After very little delay he succeeded in finding the position of the various switches and taps. At the third attempt the engine fired. The propeller blades, set at the neutral, churned the water. The motor purred rhythmically, as a well-conducted motor should. "Cast off there, for'ard!" ordered Kenneth, addressing Rollo, who had taken up his post in the bows. "Thelma, undo that rope, quickly now!" It was no time for courtesies. Kenneth was skipper, and his crew had to be told peremptorily; it was his notion of showing authority. Swiftly gathering stern-way the boat glided away from the staging; then, with a jerk as the propeller began to churn ahead, the little craft headed towards the Scheldt and the North Sea. Kenneth's was by no means an easy task. Having the use of only one arm, he was severely handicapped. Steering by means of a wheel is far from satisfactory when literally "single-handed", while the intricacies of the canal required a certain amount of quickness with the helm. Twice the boat nearly collided with the partly submerged hulls of destroyed barges. The canal was now little better than a ditch, for the tide had already fallen twelve feet out of sixteen. One satisfaction Kenneth had: there were no lock-gates to negotiate. The falling tide told him that. "Something ahead!" shouted Rollo. "Wreckage, I think." His chum immediately throttled down, keeping his unwounded hand on the reversing lever. By the lurid glare in the sky he could discern the obstruction: the shattered timbers of the lock-gates. Would there be enough water to clear the sill of the basin? If not, they would have to remain for hours, in danger of the falling shells, until the tide rose sufficiently to float the boat over the barrier. Kenneth prudently stopped the engine. He would not risk losing the blades of the propeller. Slowly and with bare steerage-way the boat glided towards the ruined gates. Her bows passed the gaunt timbers, then, with a horrid grinding noise, she hung up by the stern. "Get for'ard, all hands!" shouted Kenneth. "We may be able to jump her over." The four members of the crew made their way to the bows. Regardless of their injuries the two lads heaved and pushed with the boat-hooks. They could hear the keel grate on the stone-work. The tide was still falling. A shell, fortunately without exploding, dropped into the water twenty yards astern, throwing a shower of spray over the boat and her crew.