man, with a little felt hat that sat over his brow with a half humorous flap. He had his knees wide apart, and his hands clasped between them. And he looked for the most part down at the ground. When he did cock up his eye at Somers, it was with a look of suspicion marked with humour and troubled with a certain desire. The man was restless, desirous, craving something—heaven knows what.
"You thinking of settling out here then, are you?" he asked.
"No," said Somers. "But I don't say I won't. It depends."
William James fidgetted, tapping his feet rapidly on the ground, though his body was silent. He was not like Jack. He, too, was sensitive all over, though his body looked so thick it was silently alive, and his feet were still uneasy. He was young too, with a youth that troubled him. And his nature was secretive, maybe treacherous. It was evident Jack only half liked him.
"You've got the money, you can live where you like and go where you like," said William James, looking up at Somers. "Well, I might do the same. If I cared to do it, I could live quietly on what I've got, whether here or in England." Somers recognised the Cornishman in this.
"You could very easily have as much as I've got," he said laughing.
"The thing is, what's the good of a life of idleness?" said William James.
"What's the good of a life of work?" laughed Somers.
Shrewdly, with quick grey eye, Trewhella looked at the other man to see if he were laughing at him.
"Yet I expect you've got some purpose in coming to Australia," said William James, a trifle challenging.
"Maybe I had—or have—maybe it was just whim."
Again the other man looked shrewdly, to see if it were the truth.
"You aren't investing money out here, are you?":
"No, I've none to invest."
"Because if you was, I'd advise you not to." And he spat into the distance, and kept his hands clasped tight.
All this time Jack sat silent and as if unconcerned, but listening attentively.
"Australians have always been croakers," he said now.
