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Updated: October 1, 2026
"The fight is all our own!" shouted the second lieutenant, from among the guns, stanching, as he spoke, the blood of a severe splinter-wound in the face, and far too intent on his own immediate occupation to have noticed the signs of the weather. "He has not answered with a single gun, for near a minute." "'Fore George, the rogues have enough!" exclaimed the delighted Bignall.
There was none; not even a bullet score or a splinter-wound to show for the hot bombardment, though the side of the Nadia facing the commissary was riddled. "I'm believing all I've ever read about its taking a hundred pounds of lead to kill one man in a war battle," said the New Yorker, grimly humorous to the last. "How do you two C. E.'s account for it?" "We don't," said Ford shortly.