'But do you fish in this part?' said the captain.
The strong man, with a face put together in pieces like masses of putty, answered—
'We fish where we think there is anything to be caught.'
'What's the smuggler doing down here now?'
'Oh, they're all gone away to the east'ard!' answered the man, with a note of indifference.
'But they thought well of this place once upon a time. Men must live to learn that they're fools. Who would sail a hundred and fifty miles to run a cargo when he may set it ashore on this coast with only the danger of a third of the distance? Were you ever at sea as a sailor?' said the captain.
The man smiled, and showed his immense yellow teeth, and, pulling off his cap, combed down his grisly hair.
'I've served at sea on blue water thirty years. I've come to this because I can earn more money by it. I've served in men-o'war and merchantmen, and was second mate of the West Indiaman Sirius.'
'What's your name?' said the captain.
'Bill Hoey,' answered the man.