"Give way, lads," ordered the Scoutmaster. Not a word more was spoken till both boats had put an intervening headland between them and the cutter and her surly crew. "They're a churlish set," remarked Mr Buckley. "I wonder what their little game is, bringing up so close to the Tea Caves?" "Do you know, sir, I believe--although I am not quite sure--that the shorter man is one of the fellows who threw Sir Silas over Hungerford Bridge." "Eh?" exclaimed Mr Buckley, incredulously. "I think so, sir. And another thing I noticed: those fellows said they would sweep the yacht to Padstow if there were no wind." "That's so," agreed the Scoutmaster. "Then why would they want to row her when there's a motor on board, sir?" "A motor--how do you know, Atherton?" "I noticed the propeller under the water, sir." "You did? I missed that, then. I was directing my attention to the stern to see if a name had been painted out. It is quite possible, since the yacht is a fairly decent one, that those two fellows have stolen it. Such acts are not uncommon. That also might be an explanation for their statement that they intended to use their sweeps. They might be ignorant of how to run a motor." "Looks fishy, sir," remarked Phillips. "Do you think, since they are close to the mouth of the Tea Caves, that they have anything to do with Paul Tassh?" "The possibility is somewhat remote. Tassh is, according to all accounts, hiding in London." "With the bulk of the booty, sir?" "Well, since you suggest it, there might be something in the wind between those two surly fellows and Paul Tassh," admitted Mr Buckley. "I thought we had finished with the business. However, I'll call for volunteers to patrol the cliffs above the Tea Caves tonight if the yacht hasn't cleared off in the meantime." With that the voyage was resumed. At the blowing holes the Scouts landed, in order to investigate this natural curiosity; but, owing to an absence of wind and no sea running, the "performance was off," as Neale expressed it. The lads thoroughly enjoyed a scamper over the remarkably shaped rocks, which were only accessible from the sea; and here a substantial lunch was partaken. "I wonder what would happen if we stopped up the blowing hole?" asked Reggie Scott of his churn Sayers, pointing to an orifice in the rock about three inches in diameter, which was worn perfectly smooth by the violent up-burst of water. "I reckon it would go off like a pop-gun the first time the waves broke under it," replied Sayers. "But what's the use? We shan't be here to see what happens." "I'll fill it up, just for fun," said Scott. "Let's see how deep it is first." Lying at full length on the flat-topped rock, the Tenderfoot bared his arm and thrust it down. "I can't reach anything like far enough, Sayers," he began. "It will take a lot of filling up----"