"what are we going to do with the spindrift when we get her back to wootton, sir?" asked findlay.

"find a suitable spar, use the old fittings and make a new mast," replied mr. graham.

"i don't mean that exactly, sir," continued jock. "do you intend to keep her there or sail her back to the east coast?"

"that is a matter for all of you to decide," said the scoutmaster. "personally, i think she draws too much water for the essex estuaries. that would limit us to the deeper channels. here, on the south coast, are plenty of harbours capable of taking her at any state of the tide, and it would take two seasons to explore the solent, portsmouth, langston, and chichester harbours, to say nothing of poole harbour."

"i vote we keep her on the south coast, sir," suggested desmond. "it's a new cruising ground, and we can get six weeks every summer. we still have our cutter at southend to go afloat in during the week-ends."

to this the others agreed.

"that settles it, then," added mr. graham. "we can go into details later. what's that on your starboard bow?"

the lads looked in the direction indicated. just above the horizon was a faint, triangular-shaped patch of white.

"looks like a sail, sir," said coles.

"six hundred feet in height, eh?" exclaimed the scoutmaster. "no, it's not a sail, coles, it's the chalk cliff at the western end of the isle of wight, sixteen miles away."

at eight o'clock christchurch head was abeam, distance two miles, with the needle-like shaft of hurst high light showing ahead against the sky.

"we'll do it if the breeze holds," declared desmond. "how much petrol have we on board, jock?"

"three full tins and one about half full," replied findlay.

"you took in enough while you were about it," commented the patrol leader.

"nothing like being on the safe side," was findlay's rejoinder.

"look!" exclaimed hayes, pointing to a craft about a mile on the starboard bow. "isn't that the olivette?"

"believe it is," said desmond, picking up his binoculars. then, leaning over the companion, he announced:

"olivette in sight, sir."

mr. graham, who was consulting a chart in the cabin, came on deck.

"she's spotted us," he exclaimed. "she's slowed down to have a run in company. perhaps they've noticed our broken mast."

"jolly decent of them," said hayes.

a quarter of an hour later, the two vessels were within hailing distance.

"hello! armitage," called out mr. graham. "going to give us a tow in?"

"wish we could," was the reply. "we're broken down—out of fuel."

"tank's leaking," supplemented woodleigh, to dispel any suggestion that the fault lay in not providing sufficient fuel. "it's done that before, but we thought we'd fixed it up all right."

the spindrift ran alongside the "fifty-four footer ", and a line was thrown and made fast. although the breeze still held, the sea was comparatively smooth.

"you can't tow us," objected mr. armitage. "you've as much as you can do to carry on with that broken mast. i was about to send a boat ashore for some paraffin."

"no need," replied mr. graham. "your engine will run on petrol. we can let you have a couple of tins—three if necessary, and we've about three gallons of paraffin for the stove. you can have that."

"what are you doing with petrol, then?" asked mr. armitage.

"oh, we've a motor too," replied desmond proudly. "a dinky little outboard."

the offer of the petrol and paraffin was gladly accepted. already the leak in the tank had been soldered, and all that was required was to fill up and restart the engine.

"stow your canvas, graham," said mr. armitage. "you won't want that again this evening. we'll tow you into keyhaven. that will suit, i hope?"

"perfectly," was the reply.

the olivette gathered way, the spindrift following meekly at the end of a four-inch grass hawser, and well before dark both boats were safely moored in the narrow and sheltered waters of keyhaven.

"i think we can fix you up with a spar to-morrow," said mr. armitage, when the milford sea scouts boarded the spindrift to see what sort of craft the southend lads had obtained. "a yacht came ashore at milford last month and became a total wreck. we bought a lot of her gear, including her mast. i think it would just suit you."

"thanks awfully," replied mr. graham. "what do you want for it?"

"pooh, pooh!" protested mr. armitage. "we are not dealers in marine stores. we bought the stick for a mere song, thinking it might come in handy for a signal mast for our hut. but it would be a jolly sight more useful in a yacht, i take it."

"and we have all the tools for the job in our boathouse," added woodleigh. "we'll all turn out to-morrow and lend a hand. many hands make light work."

"and too many cooks spoil the broth," laughed flemming. "however, we'll all see if we can help without tumbling over each other."

early next morning, as soon as the dew had vanished, the milford sea scouts gathered at their boat store. the mast and a couple of stout scaffold-poles were placed on a truck and wheeled down to the quay.

here they were joined by the crew of the spindrift, and while one party sandpapered down the mast and applied a coat of quick-drying varnish, the others brought the yacht alongside and rigged up a pair of sheer legs. these were set up with their heels wedged alongside the shroud plates, and guyed fore and aft with strong tackles.

by this means the broken mast was lifted out and carried ashore. the running and standing rigging and halliards were then removed and transferred to the new mast, which by this time was quite dry.

it was a tricky job shipping the new mast. not only was it longer than the broken spar but considerably heavier, and the height of the sheer legs was not enough to hoist it in an almost perpendicular position.

"we can hold the heel down," said findlay.

"no," objected mr. graham, peremptorily. "i'm not going to allow anyone under those sheer legs in case anything carries away."

"i don't see how we can do it otherwise, sir," remarked jock.

"there is a way," observed the scoutmaster. "we'll have to make the mast heavier."

the sea scouts looked at him to see if he were joking, but mr. graham was perfectly grave.

"yes," he continued. "if we get a pig of ballast and secure it to the mast three feet above the heel, that will cant the mast at the required angle. we can then guide the heel to the proper position by means of rope, and lower away."

this task was successfully accomplished, and by noon the mast wedges were driven home and caulked, the shrouds set up, and the boom and gaff placed in position.

"now you're all shipshape and bristol fashion!" exclaimed mr. armitage.

"thanks largely to your assistance," added mr. graham.

the scoutmaster of the milford troop made a deprecatory gesture.

"that's nothing much," he protested. "it's all part of the game—the brotherhood of the sea. we've been helped out of difficulties before to-day, and much of the zest of life is derived from helping others."

"i hope we may never have to do you a good turn of this sort, armitage," said mr. graham, "but, if we do, you will know that it will be a pleasure for us to do so. one never knows."

"that's a fact," declared mr. armitage sententiously. "no doubt we'll come across you again, especially as you're keeping the spindrift in commission on the solent."

at two o'clock the spindrift got under way, amidst an exchange of hearty cheers between the two troops. outside keyhaven they picked up a favourable breezes, but progress was slow owing to the foul tide. nevertheless, it was a pleasant sail, and it was six o'clock before the tide changed and swept the yacht quickly through cowes roads.

"there's our home port," exclaimed desmond, as the yacht rounded old castle point and opened up the wooded shores of osborne bay. "wonder if the other fellows will spot us when we're abreast of wootton rocks."

"sure thing," declared findlay. "patrol leader bradley is dead nuts on watchkeeping. i don't suppose many craft pass within sight of the guardship without his knowing it."

"we shall see," rejoined desmond. "i don't suppose they expect us before the beginning of next week."

"give bradley a chance, anyway," said hayes. "let's hoist our patrol burgee. are you starting the motor, findlay?"

findlay looked inquiringly at mr. graham.

"it would show your seamanship if you beat into the creek," remarked the scoutmaster.

"very good, sir," replied desmond. "we won't use the engine. a pull on the main sheet there!"

the spindrift, hitherto running, was now close hauled on the starboard tack. this would take her up the "boomed" channel, but above the coastguard slipway it would mean almost a dead beat before squaring off for the final reach.

"ready about—lee-o!" ordered desmond as the beat began.

mr. graham sat on the top of the companion ladder, watching the manoeuvre but resolving to let the crew carry on under the patrol leader's orders.

it was a narrow channel and the wind was fluky, but the crew were smart at their work, and by this time they knew their ship. she was fairly slow at coming about, but sure. not once did she show a tendency to miss stays.

every board brought the spindrift nearer and nearer to the guardship. the crew could see the ocean bride moored astern of her, but on neither craft was there any sign of animation.

"by jove!" ejaculated desmond. "we've got 'em cold! we'll run right under her lee, and give them our patrol call."

blanketed by the high wooded ground to starboard, the spindrift was now making very little way. at intervals faint puffs of wind swept down upon the land-locked estuary, but the faint flood-tide was sweeping the yacht steadily inward.

"down mainsail!" ordered desmond. "stand by to lower headsails and mizzen smartly. bedford, you tend the for'ard warp; hayes, look out for the quarter-rope—a bowline round the guardship's bollard as we go alongside, but check her gently."

like a band of conspirators, the crew of the spindrift prepared for the surprise of their chums on the guardship. the ocean bride was passed without attracting the attention of the collinsons. then her bows drew level with the stern of the guardship.

desmond made a sign with his hand. down fluttered the rest of the canvas, with hardly a sound, save for the cheep of a stiff running-block. deftly the securing ropes were thrown and belayed. the patrol leader raised his hand again.

instantly the crew yelled their hardest, making the wooded shore echo and re-echo to their ear-splitting patrol call.

the effect was almost instantaneous. at every open lower-deck port, one, two, or three heads were thrust out—wide-eyed astonished sea scouts who could hardly grasp the fact that their comrades had returned from their long coast-wise voyage. and with them were mr. collinson and his wife.

"caught you napping, lads!" exclaimed mr. graham.

"spoilt my yarn, you mean," rejoined mr. collinson laughing. "i'll admit i kept their attention pretty well until you fellows raised that infernal din. that tore it! so you've brought the old ship round: what do you think of her?"

"a rattling good little craft," replied the scoutmaster.

"thought you'd find her so," rejoined mr. collinson. then he looked up with a puzzled air. "i say, you've got a new stick?"

"yes, mast carried away in an accidental gybe in west bay," said mr. graham. "we haven't had an uneventful time, and it's been quite enjoyable."

"it has," added desmond. "i'm sorry it's over."

"the holidays aren't over yet," remarked findlay optimistically.

"and you have a large and new cruising ground open to you," said mr. collinson. "if the spindrift serves you as well as she has me, you'll have no cause for complaint. well, lads, here's good luck to the spindrift and her crew."