Chapter 9
Ric looked around uneasily. He’d rarely seen the inside of the Angler’s Arms. The town of Drovers Flat boasted two pubs, and their patrons were historically split along party lines. Dad and his irrigator mates frequented the Royal up the road. This hotel belonged to the dry-land farmers and cattlemen.
‘Is that thing real?’ Sophie pointed to the huge cod mounted on the wall.
Ric nodded. This might not be his usual watering hole, but everybody knew the story of Moby d**k. ‘That fish was caught sixty years ago in the Bunyip, not far from here. Weighed more than fifty kilos, apparently, when they dragged it from the water.’
‘That’s sad.’ Sophie studied the mounted fish and the engraved plaque beneath. ‘It says there’s a reward,’ she said. ‘How can there be a reward if somebody’
