Anyhow, there won't be no chance to trade long as he's round, for you folks don't dare say your soul's your own when there's a Frenchy on the coast." "Nor hardly at any other time," remarked White, moodily.
"There's another one, too--Britisher, I reckon--went up the bay towards Humber Arm ahead of us.

I only wish the two tarnal critters would get into a scrap and blow each other out of the water.

Then there'd be some chance for honest folks to make a living.

Now I'm up a stump and don't know what to do, unless some of you people can let me have a few barrels of bait right off, so's I can clear out again to-night." "There isn't any to be had here," replied White, "for this is a lobster factory, and the whole business of the place, just at present, is catching and canning lobsters.

You'll find some round at York Harbour, though." "No use going there now, nor anywhere else, long as that pesky Frenchman's on the lookout.