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Galvinne was a prisoner by my side on board of the flag-ship, and told me all about it when he was releasing my right hand from the bracelet," replied Captain Flanger. "Then I am to do duty as a figure-head, am I?" laughed Christy. "Precisely; and you are a better-looking one than your cousin. But excuse me for changing the subject of the conversation, for I am losing time.
"Because I have been trying to get here for more than a year," replied the contraband, after looking about him for a moment, and then dropping his voice as though he feared Captain Flanger might hear what he said.
The prisoners appeared to be quite as much interested in the proceedings on deck as the ship's company, and closely observed everything that was done. Michael Bornhoff was quite excited, and walked the deck hurriedly, as though he was in search of something to do; but he was very careful not to go near the place where Captain Flanger was made fast to the rail. "Mr.
His nose was terribly disfigured, not by the blow of the young officer, for, twisted as it was, there was no sign of a fresh wound upon it. One glance was enough to satisfy Christy as to the identity of the ruffian. It was Captain Flanger, whose steamer Christy had captured, with a boat expedition sent out from the Bronx, in St. Andrew's Bay.
"I was passing the door of this saloon, and did not even look into it, when that man rushed upon me, and seized me by the collar," replied Christy. "I tried to shake him off, but I could not, and then I struck him in the side of the head." "Look here, you nigger!" shouted Captain Flanger. "It's none of your business who began it."
Passford, if that suits you better, I was going to say that I mean to treat you like a gentleman, whether you are one or not, in spite of my shattered and battered nose," added the captain. "I do not consider myself responsible for the condition of your nose, Captain Flanger.
His second idea was that he had mistaken the declaration of Captain Flanger, though he had certainly said that he meant to replace the Floridian with the Bronx, and the statement could hardly mean anything else.
I will meet you on the public wharf at half-past, and see that you have a good stateroom in the cabin of the Snapper." "That seems to be all very well arranged," added Christy. "But I must see Captain Flanger before four o'clock. How much longer do you intend to cruise in this boat?" asked the schemer, beginning to manifest a little impatience.
He had first seen her when she was in the act of turning, obtaining only a glance at the three masts. Whether or not she was "end-on" for the Snapper, he could not determine, and Captain Flanger seemed to be studying up this question with no little earnestness.
The Snapper was quite a small craft, and looked like an old vessel; for she was a side-wheeler, though she had evidently been built for a sea-going craft. Whether Flanger had escaped from the Bellevite after being transferred to her from the Bronx, or had been regularly exchanged as a prisoner of war, Christy had no means of knowing.
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