As soon as the rectangular-shaped woodwork was placed in position the motor stopped. “That beats me!” remarked the Patrol Leader. “There’s your trouble,” declared Craddock, removing and overturning the floorboard. “See that steel plate?” He pointed to the double strip of metal forming the edge of a slot to take the reversing lever. “It’s bearing directly upon the high-tension wire, and the continual vibration has damaged the insulation. The motor fired when the floorboard was up, but when it was in position the metal touched the wire and caused a short circuit. Wrap some insulating tape round the wire—it would be as well to cut a notch in that beam to let the wire bed itself better—and you won’t have any more bother.” “My word! You’re a smart fellow!” exclaimed the other, with frank admiration. “Not at all,” protested Craddock. “You see, I had exactly the same trouble once on board our old boat, the _Puffin_, and I had to get another fellow to put it right.” “’Tany rate, you’ve done a very Good Turn,” declared Mr. Pendennis. “We’ll try and return it by giving the _Kestrel_ a tow. I don’t say that we’ll succeed against this tide, but we’ll have a good shot at it.” The Falmouth Scoutmaster hailed the _Kestrel_. “I say, Grant!” he exclaimed. “We’re going to give you a tow. Do you know your way in? I don’t, except for the directions in the ‘Channel Pilot’; but which is Fort Victoria? Look here, do you mind coming on board and piloting us?” Mr. Grant accepted the invitation. Craddock returned to the _Kestrel_, and preparations were made to pass a hawser from the _Merlin_ to the other yacht. Both anchors were weighed simultaneously and the strenuous effort began. Slowly yet surely the two vessels approached Hurst Channel. Ahead could be seen a confused turmoil of broken sea as the pent-up water of the Solent forced its way through the narrow passage between Hurst Castle and the Isle of Wight. It was now that local knowledge came in most usefully. Except for one point ominously named “The Trap,” the beach at Hurst Castle is steep-to, the depth increasing to fifteen fathoms within a few yards of the shore. By keeping close in, Mr. Grant knew that the full force of the tide would not only be avoided, but that there would also be found a tidal eddy in their favour. “You can rely upon the motor, I hope?” he enquired. “If it should go wrong, we’ll find ourselves in a very dangerous situation.” Receiving an assurance on that point, Mr. Grant ordered the helm to be starboarded a little. Gradually the slow progress increased until, aided by the counter-current, the _Merlin_ and the _Kestrel_ seemed to jump ahead. They were now within their own length of the beach. Ahead lay “The Trap,” and off it a broiling tide which, if it caught the _Merlin_ on her port bow, would swing her out into the full strength of the ebb.