CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
Always the same answer.
No, they hadn't seen no sailor lad in a red cap, only their own boys, and they were all at home.

Had he lost one?
Yes; a boy had come ashore and not returned.
The different men questioned chuckled, and one oracular-looking old fellow spat, wiped his lips on the back of his hand, stared out to sea, and said gruffly,-- "Runned away." "Ay," said another, "that's it.

You won't see him again." "Won't I ?" muttered Gurr between his teeth.

"I'll let some of you see about that, my fine fellows." He led his men on, stopping at each cluster of cottages and shabby little farm to ask suspiciously, as if he felt certain the person he questioned was hiding the truth.
But he always came out again to his men with an anxious look in his eyes, and generally ranged up alongside of Dick.
"No, my lad," he would say, "they haven't seen 'im there;" and then with his head bent down, but his eyes eagerly searching the road from side to side, he went on towards Shackle's farm.
"Say, Mester Gurr," said Dick, after one of these searches, "he wouldn't run away ?" "What! Mr Raystoke, sir?
Don't be a fool." "No, sir," replied Dick humbly, and the men tramped on with a couple of open-mouthed, barefooted boys following them to stare at their cutlasses and pistols.
"Say, Mester Gurr," ventured Dick, after a pause, "none of 'em wouldn't ha' done that, would they ?" Dick had followed the master's look, as he shaded his eyes and stared over the green slope which led up to the cliffs.
"What ?" "Chucked him off yonder." Gurr glanced round to see if the men were looking, and then said rather huskily but kindly,-- "In ord'nary, Dick, my lad, no; but when smugglers finds themselves up in corners where they can't get away, they turns and fights like rats, and when they fights they bites." "Ah!" ejaculated Dick sadly.
"You're only a common sailor, Dick, and I'm your officer, but though I speak sharp unto you, I respect you, Dick, for you like that lad." "Say, Mester Gurr, sir, which thankful I am to you for speaking so; but you don't really think as he has come to harm ?" "I hope not, Dick; I hope not; but smugglers don't stand at anything sometimes." Dick sighed, and then all at once he spat in his fist, rubbed his hands together and clenched them, a hard, fierce aspect coming into his rough dark face, which seemed to promise severe retaliation if anything had happened to the young officer.
There was nowhere else to search as far as Gurr could see, save the little farm in the hollow, and the black-looking stone house up on the hill among the trees.
Gurr, who looked wonderfully bull-dog like in aspect, made straight for the farm, where the first person he encountered was Mrs Shackle, who, innocent enough, poor woman, came to the door to bob a curtsey to the king's men, while Jemmy Dadd, who was slowly loading a tumbril in whose shafts was the sleepy grey horse, stuck his fork down into the heap of manure from the cow-sheds, rested his hands on the top and his chin upon his hands, to stare and grin at the sailors he recognised.
"Morning, marm," said Gurr; "sorry to trouble you, but--" "Oh, sir," interrupted Mrs Shackle, "surely you are not going to tumble over my house again! I do assure you there's nothing here but what you may see." "If you'd let me finish, you'd know," said Gurr gruffly.

"One of our boys is missing.