"He's Amos Hooker," said Danks, "and we must try and work our cards with him, he rules the roost here."
"It's you, Phil Danks, is it?" said Hooker, "and I see you've got company with you. There's not much for you to find here, and what little there is by rights belongs to us. We live here, and I'm damned if it's fair for you fellows to come and poach on our fishery."
"We have as much right to fish here as you have," retorted Phil Danks, "and what's more, we intend to try our luck. Be sensible, Amos, we can make it worth your while. If you care to live in this hole, I know you have very good reasons for keeping out of the way. There's one or two men down at Fremantle who would not be at all sorry to come across the man who cleared out with the 'Mary Hatchett.'"
Amos Hooker's eyes gleamed and he looked angrily at the speaker, but the blow struck home and Jack saw he was not quite so brave as he wished to appear.
"Who told you I was in the 'Mary Hatchett'; you can tell 'em from me it's a lie."
"Oh, no, it is not, so you had better be reasonable. There are several things you can do for us if you will, and you shall be well paid, if not in cash in kind, and when you hear who has fixed out these schooners you'll know he is not the man to forget you."
Amos Hooker had no relish for this situation. He was the best man at Shark's Bay amongst the fishers, and he felt if he gave way too easily his authority would be diminished. It would never do to give in without some show of bluster, so he said,
"If the Governor owned the schooners, you have no right to come here. What's become of that fool, Jacob Rank? We soon cleared him out, and a nice crew he had with him; I suppose you know he got left?"
"We heard he was drowned," said Danks.
Amos Hooker laughed as he replied,—