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"Whew! Then you are still the commander of the Bronx?" repeated Christy, laughing at his cousin's persistence.

āļ—āļĩāđ€āļ”āđ‡āļ” āļŸāļļāļ•āļšāļ­āļĨ āļ§āļąāļ™ āļ™āļĩāđ‰ āļ§āļīāđ€āļ„āļĢāļēāļ°āļŦāđŒ āļšāļ­āļĨ "Vincent, pass one half of the men on board of the cutter," said Mr. Pennant, when he had looked over the boat and the men on board of it. Seated on the side of his berth he considered the situation very faithfully. The Bronx lay off St. Rosa's Island; she was on the blockade, evidently ready to trip her anchor, whenever occasion should require. In regard to her officers Christy only knew that Mr. Flint was in temporary command of her, in place of Mr. Blowitt, 115 who had become the executive officer of the Bellevite. The other officers must have been appointed for temporary service. "I don't understand it," said Captain Battleton, shaking his head.

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