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āđāļ§āđāļ āļāļāļąāļ āļāļāļāđāļĨāļāđ āļĢāļąāļ āļ§āļ āļĨ āđāļĨāļ Christy looked at his watch when the sail was reported to him, and found that it wanted ten minutes of eleven. The Bronx had been steaming for just about three hours, and must have made about forty miles, as he hastily figured up the run in his mind. "But I am all right, mother, and there is not the least reason to worry about anything, for the 22 ship is not going to the bottom just yet," replied Christy, indulging in a forced laugh to assist in quieting his mother's fears. "I do not, Paul; I think it wears upon me, though I am willing to do my duty wherever I am ordered." "Strike one bell, Vincent!" said Mr. Flint, when the captain had given him the order to go ahead.