Part 31 (1/2)

”Do you know Cunnock Creek?” asked Tommy.

”Cunnock Crick!” repeated Mr. Gow. ”Why, I should think I did, sir. My cottage don't lie more than a mile from Cunnock Crick. Is that where you're makin' for?”

Tommy nodded. ”We were thinking of putting in there,” he said. ”Is there enough water?”

”Plenty o' water, sir--leastways there will be by the time we get up.

It runs a bit dry at low tide, but there's always a matter o' three to four feet in the middle o' the channel.”

This was excellent news, for the _Betty_ with her centre-board up only drew about three feet six, so except at the very lowest point the creek would always be navigable.

”Is it a safe place to leave a boat for the night with no one on board?” inquired Tommy.

Mr. Gow shook his head. ”I wouldn't go as far as that, sir. None o'

the reg'lar boatmen or fishermen wouldn't touch 'er, but they're a thievin' lot o' rascals, some o' them Tilbury folk. If they happened to come across 'er, as like as not they'd strip 'er gear, to say nothin' of the fittings.” Then he paused. ”But if you was thinkin' o'

layin' 'er up there for the night, I'd see no one got monkeyin' around with 'er. I'd sleep aboard meself.”

”Well, that's a bright notion,” said Tommy, turning to me. ”What do you think, Neil?”

”I think it's quite sound,” I answered. ”Besides, he can help me look after her for the next two or three days. I shall be too busy to get over to the creek much myself.” Then putting my hand in my pocket I pulled out Joyce's envelope, and carefully extracted one of the five-pound notes from inside. ”Look here, Mr. Gow!” I added, ”we'll strike a bargain. If you'll stay with the _Betty_ for a day or so, I'll give you this fiver to buy or hire another boat with until you can get your compensation out of our German friends. I shall be living close by, but I shan't have time to keep my eye on her properly.”

Mr. Gow accepted the proposal and the note with alacrity. ”I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, sir,” he said gratefully. ”I'll just run up to my cottage when we land to get some dry clothes, and then I'll come straight back and take 'er over. She won't come to no harm, not with Luke Gow on board; you can reckon on that, sir.”

He touched his cap, and climbing up out of the well, made his way forward, as though to signalize the fact that he was adopting the profession of our paid hand.

”I'm so glad,” said Joyce quietly. ”I shan't feel half so nervous now I know you'll have someone with you.”

Tommy nodded. ”It's a good egg,” he observed. ”I think old whiskers is by way of being rather grateful.” Then he paused. ”But what swine those German beggars must be not to have stopped! They must have seen what had happened.”

”I wonder what he meant by hinting that they'd done it purposely,” I said.

Tommy laughed. ”I don't know. I asked him in the cabin, but he wouldn't say any more. I think he was only talking through his hat.”

”I'm not so sure,” I said doubtfully. ”He seemed to have some idea at the back of his mind. I shall sound him about it later on.”

With the wind holding good and a strong tide running, the _Betty_ scudded along at such a satisfactory pace that by half-past twelve we were already within sight of Gravesend Reach. There is no more desolate-looking bit of the river than the stretch which immediately precedes that crowded fairway. It is bounded on each side by a low sea wall, behind which a dreary expanse of marsh and salting spreads away into the far distance. Here and there the level monotony is broken by a solitary hut or a disused fis.h.i.+ng hulk, but except for the pa.s.sing traffic and the cloud of gulls perpetually wheeling and screaming overhead there is little sign of life or movement.

”You see them two or three stakes stickin' up in the water?” remarked Mr. Gow suddenly, pointing away towards the right-hand bank.

I nodded.

”Well, you keep 'em in line with that little clump o' trees be'ind, an' you'll just fetch the crick nicely.”

He and Tommy went forward to take in the spinnaker, while, following the marks he had indicated, I brought the _Betty_ round towards her destination. Approaching the sh.o.r.e I saw that the entrance to the creek was a narrow channel between two mud-flats, both of which were presumably covered at high tide. I called to Joyce to wind up the centre-board to its fullest extent, and then, steering very carefully, edged my way in along this drain, while Mr. Gow leaned over to leeward diligently heaving the lead.

”Plenty o' water,” he kept on calling out encouragingly. ”Keep 'er goin', sir, keep 'er goin'. Inside that beacon, now up with 'er a bit.

That's good!”

He discarded the lead and hurried to the anchor. I swung her round head to wind, Tommy let down the mainsail, and the next moment we brought up with a grace and neatness that would almost have satisfied a Solent skipper.