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āļāļāļāđāļĨāļāđ āļŠāļĨāļēāļāļāļīāļāđāļāđāļ āļĢāļąāļāļāļēāļĨ The lieutenant had covered his lantern, for he 320 did not wish to wake the other sleepers in the cabin, after the description the Russian had given of his man. Mike spoke in a low tone to him, and it did not take him long to make his toilet, for he slept just as he was clothed during the day. No one knew how old he was, but he was still brisk in his movements. The officer led the way to one of the deserted cabins at a considerable distance from the one occupied by Uncle Job. "About the same the last time I saw him. He 62 ate all the toast I sent to him, and seemed to enjoy it. I don't think he is in a dangerous condition," replied the surgeon. "That will do; stop her and anchor, Mr. Flint," said Christy, as he looked about him in an endeavor to penetrate the fog in which the vessel was buried.