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v9bidn "Now, give way with a will, my men!" called Mr. Pennant in brisk tones, "for we shall soon have a twenty-four pound shot chasing us out." Quartermaster Vincent was placed in charge of the wheel, with Boxie as helmsman. All that could be done to protect the pilot-house had been done, though it was not yet supposed to be proof against the musket ball that would be fired in that direction. All the men not absolutely needed for 348 duty were sent below, but they were armed with revolvers and cutlasses, ready for service at any instant. The officers retired from the bridge, for it was folly for any one to be unnecessarily exposed to the musketry fire from the loopholes of the fort. The executive officer sent Mr. Camden on deck for a pair of handcuffs and a couple of men to execute the order. Flanger still retained his 286 standing position behind the table, holding on to his nose, which continued to bleed very freely. The surgeon went over to him, and endeavored to obtain a sight of the mutilated member. He had aimed at the head of Flanger, and he saw that he had hit him, for his face was instantly covered with blood. He did not think it necessary 282 to fire a second shot, but he was careful not to let the opportunity pass by if it was needed to reduce the privateersman to subjection. Flanger dropped his weapon instantly, and Dave as instantly picked it up. It was clear to Christy then that the battle had been fought and won, though the defeated party had another revolver in his pocket. "Then I will wait till I have time to attend to it," replied the heroic officer who treated the injury with contempt; "I have not finished my report to the captain yet. I will be in the ward room as soon as the captain is done with me." "I am afraid he is fond of whiskey, though I do not know that he is."