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āđāļ§āđāļ āļŠāļĨāđāļāļ āđāļĢ āļĄāđāļē āđāļāļ āļāđāļēāļĒ "Can you tell me what position Mr. Flint has on board?" "Then I shall put you in irons, and take you on board of the steamer," added the officer sternly. In a few minutes he reported that the prisoners were all fast asleep. Boxie had been relieved as guard, and another seaman was marching back and forth by their couches. It was still dark and foggy, and a hail came from the mast-head forward. "No, sir; I don't believe he is over twenty, if he is that," replied the third lieutenant. Mr. Flint went to his stateroom, and turned in; but Christy spread his chart of the Gulf of Mexico, and using his parallel ruler, he found that the present course of the Bronx would take her to the Pass à Loutre, the most northerly entrance of the Mississippi River. He went to the bridge at once, and directed the officer of the deck to make the course south-west by south. Everything was going well on deck, and Mr. Pennant had proved that he was a competent officer.