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"Very well, Mike; you are a free man on board of this ship."

āļ—āļēāļ‡ āđ€āļ‚āđ‰āļē mafia88 "Precisely; and you are a better-looking one than your cousin. But excuse me for changing the subject of the conversation, for I am losing 274 time. I see by the telltale over our heads that the Bronx is headed to the south-west, which is doubtless the course you were ordered to take by the commodore." "Thank you, sir; I will take some of it, if you please," replied Christy, as he passed his plate across the table. "Of course, as you have done me the honor to take a seat at my table, I must be acquainted with you." "Yes, sar; ober dar," he replied, pointing to the west. "You are more fortunate than your cousin, for he is having quite a hard time of it," added the doctor, who seemed to be very much amused that the future commander of the Bronx, who had been to sea so much, should be afflicted in this manner. Again the steamer darted ahead at a speed which would soon carry her beyond the reach of the musket ball of the soldiers. Christy still remained upon the bridge, observing the fort and all that was done on the deck of the Bronx. He directed his glass frequently at the barbette of the fort; but the prudent commander of the garrison had evidently concluded to confine his efforts to the casemates. At least one-fourth of his men had been disabled. "You know that I am. Wasn't the commission decided to be mine?"

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