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āđāļāļĩāļĒāļ āđāļāļ āļāļāļĨ āļ§āļąāļ āļāļĩāđ "How was the weather when you left the deck, Mr. Flint?" asked the commander. "He is better; in fact, he was about well when I left him," replied the practitioner. "But I have no more time to waste," added he, as he quickened his pace, moving in the direction of the shore. "No matter what you are; I propose to overhaul you and judge for myself what you are," answered the officer in command of the cutter. "Let go your sheet, skipper!" Captain Flanger was a man of stalwart proportions, and Christy realized that he was no match for him in a hand to hand encounter, even with the aid of the steward, for the ruffian would not fail to use his revolvers. "Precisely so; West India rum and wines."