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"I protest agailst this brutal treatmelt!" stormed the prisoner, as he continued to writhe in his irons. "I am a woulded plisoler!"

joker 50 รับ 200bababa88 "No, sir; I belong to Captain Flanger: his father is dead, and left me to his son." 162 Christy was not very hungry after his late dinner, but he ate the dainties brought to him, and found that the cook of the Bronx had lost none of his skill. He might not have an opportunity to eat again very soon, for he did not lose sight of the fact that failure was possible, and he might soon be an occupant of a Confederate prison with Flint, as he had been once before. "I don't think he has." The hands of the impostor were now free, and he placed himself in a defensive attitude; but Ralph Pennant, who was rather above the average stature, threw his arms around him, and he was 185 pinned as tightly as though he had been put into a strait jacket. Corny was probably stiff in his arms from their confinement, and he was unable to make a very spirited defence. While the seaman held him, Christy took the envelope from his breast pocket, and transferred it to his own. But there was considerable noise made in the brief scuffle, which waked some of the sleepers. From one of the staterooms an officer rushed out, and demanded the cause of the disturbance. The person proved to be the surgeon.