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"Who's there?" demanded Christy Passford, sitting up in his bed, in the middle of the night, in his room on the second floor of his father's palatial mansion on the Hudson, where the young lieutenant was waiting for a passage to the Gulf.

น ได้ 300 Christy was still on the bridge, and he watched with intense interest the effect of the shot. In a moment he saw the carriage of the only gun that seemed to be mounted on the barbette flying in pieces in every direction. He directed the gunner to use a shell next time; but the soldiers had hastened away from the place, bearing with them two of their companions, doubtless wounded by the splinters. "I will take care of the orders myself." The lamp on gimbols was lighted, and Corny took possession of the room, and had not a suspicion that he was not its only occupant. He lay down in his berth after he had removed his coat and shoes, and in a few minutes Christy judged that he was asleep from the sound of his breathing, which soon degenerated into a mild snore. Mr. Flint was to make a beginning in the project, or, as Dave called it, "open the ball." CHAPTER III CHRISTY PASSFORD IS UTTERLY CONFOUNDED "I can; but I have not had time to consider any 97 events or circumstances, and it would not be treating Captain Battleton with proper respect to submit a string of crude conjectures to him."