“Evidently someone has broken into the shed,” remarked Mr. Grant. “Have you been there to-day? Perhaps it would be as well if you did. I’ll come with you, if I may?” The old man led the way up a steeply sloping garden. In a corner formed by the junction of two hedges was a tumble-down structure composed of boats’ planking, weatherboards, corrugated iron, and tarred felt. The lock was in position, but it was one of those cheap varieties which could easily be picked by means of a piece of bent wire. Marner threw open the door. Within were a number of gardening tools, a pile of old sacks, a motor bicycle, and two tins of petrol. “That’s where I kept un,” declared Marner. “It be gone, as ye see, zur. Nothin’ else be touched as far as I can see.” “Evidently someone borrowed it and lost it,” said the Scoutmaster. “That’s a nice motor bike: you don’t ride it, do you, Mr. Marner?” The old man chuckled wheezily. “Not wi’ this leg, zur. Yes, tes my boy Richard’s; same name as mine ’e be called. ’E wur a Scout same as your lads.” “Well, I hope Master Richard isn’t mixed up in this business,” thought the Scoutmaster; then, aloud: “He’s not a Scout now, is he?” Marner chuckled again. “’E’s mate aboard th’ tawps’l schooner _Huterp_ o’ Fowey,” he announced proudly. “She’s gone foreign wi’ a cargo o’ clay. Where eggsackly I can’t remember like. Reckon she’s about due back come a week or so; an’ if so happen you’m still hereabouts ye might see ’im.” Mr. Grant gave a sigh of relief. It was with no slight degree of satisfaction that he realised the impossibility of Dick Marner, ex-Scout and the apple of the father’s eye, being implicated in this unpleasant business. The while he was conversing with the old man, Mr. Grant kept his eyes wide open. There was nothing of the nature of a clue as far as the shed was concerned. The floor was of hard trodden clay. No tell-tale footprints had left their mark. Both petrol cans, judging by the undisturbed dust on them, had not been touched since Richard Marner, junior, had shipped on board the topsail schooner _Euterpe_ of Fowey. But obviously the fellow who had broken into the shed knew his bearings. He was aware that there was a syringe; he wanted it, so he went to work to take it without disturbing anything else. “Do you know of any of your neighbours who would borrow the syringe without asking you if they might?” enquired the Scoutmaster. “No, zur,” replied Marner. “But why’m you so askifying? You’m questionin’ me same as if I wur a pickpocket at Bodmin Fair.” It was a perfectly reasonable request. In the circumstances, Mr. Grant realised that it was only fair to old Marner to explain the facts that led up to his visit. “An’ you’m come here thinkin’ as ’ow my son Dick had a-set fire to your boat?” demanded old Marner angrily.