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In a short time the Vernon was alongside the flag-ship. Christy had put his uniform coat in his valise, and still wore the frock he had taken from it. He had removed his linen collar, and put on a woollen shirt and a seaman's cap, for he did not care to be taken for an officer among the crew. He carried his valise to the vicinity of the forehatch, and looked up through the opening to ascertain what he could of the movements on board.

ออนไลน์ สลากกินแบ่ง The commander of the Bronx left the cabin where the interview had taken place. On the 251 deck he met his uncle, who was curious to know what was to be done with him. "Lay her aboard!" shouted Mr. Pennant; and Vincent led the way, leaping directly into the midst of the eight men in the standing room. "That is bad grammar," said the commander, laughing, for he was in an exceedingly pleasant humor, as may well be supposed. "You know what is right, and you must not talk like a contraband." "Certainly, Mr. Salisbury. This is not a court-martial, but an informal investigation, and I shall be glad to have you and Dr. Connelly entirely free to ask any questions you please," replied the captain, who was anything but a martinet. "If I have had any headache, I have entirely recovered from it," replied Christy, laughing heartily. "I came on board only an hour ago, doctor, and I have had no headache, thank you." "Let go the anchor, Mr. Flint!" shouted Christy.