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āļŠāļĨāđāļāļāļāļļāļāļāļāļĨāļĄāļēāđāļāđāļē "I have no idea of its strength; but I do not care to have the Bronx knocked to pieces by the big guns of a fort. The bar of Barataria and the shoal water of the entrance to the bay extend out about two miles into the Gulf. At low water, two miles from the fort, we should bury our keel in the mud. It looks just now as though we should have to put the Bronx under the guns of the fort, or simply blockade the entrance to the bay. That makes it look like a quiet time in these waters." "Perfectly, Captain Passford; and I would trust you with my freedom, which is the dearest thing on earth to me. But don't call me 'mister,' or you will make me forget that I am a nigger," 227 said the skipper, laughing in his delight to find that he was in good and safe hands. "Captain Flanger called me Mike always, and that is a good enough name for me." "I beg your pardon, Captain Passford; I used the title of 'mister' from habit, and not as meaning anything," replied the surgeon. "I was forced by the evidence, and quite as much by the lack of evidence, to concur with Captain Battleton in his decision." "Did he bring you an order to this effect?" asked Christy more seriously.