"We did," Charley answered briefly.
"Well, you-all have got to get off this island—and get off of it mighty quick," he declared.
"Why," Captain Westfield demanded, his own anger beginning to rise.
"First place, 'cause you ain't got any right to stay here. This island belongs to a friend of mine and I've got charge of it."
Charley was keeping his temper well in hand though he was as angry as his chums. "We have been advised that this island belongs to the state," he said, coolly, "and we believe what we have been told. We have got as much right on state land as you or any one else."
"Well, I give you notice to get off right away. We don't allow no niggers in the fishing business 'round hyar."
"Now look here, Hunter," Charley said coolly, "you fellows objected to our having the little negro with us on the dock. Very well, we moved over here to avoid trouble. Now you come over here and try to order us off this island which we have as many rights to as you. That's going too far and we are not going to stand for it."
"We ain't going to have no niggers fishing 'round hyar," repeated Hunter doggedly.
"Chris is not going to do any fishing. He is our cook—and a mighty good one too."