"Wounded, you"--
The oaths and epithets he used need not soil our page; but the prisoner
seemed to be suffering more from his wrath than from his wound.
"You have shot off by dose, you!"--groaned Flanger. "The ball welt
straight through it."
"Then you are not dangerously wounded," added Christy. "I was afraid it
had gone through your head."
"I wish it had! You have bade a scarecrow of be for life!" he gasped.
"What's the trouble here, Captain Passford?" asked Dr. Connelly,
presenting himself at the door of the cabin. "Didn't I hear the report
of a firearm in this direction just now?"
"Very likely you did, if your hearing is good," replied Christy with a
smile, for the large revolver, discharged in the small cabin, made a
tremendous noise. "The gentleman behind the table, who is holding on to
his nose, requires some of your professional skill. He was proceeding to
capture the Bronx, and had gone to the point where you find him."
"I dol't walt any Yalkee surgeod at work od be," protested Captain
Flanger, whose speech was badly affected by the injury to his nasal
organ, or by the pressure he applied to it with his hand.
"You can consult your own inclination as to that, my excellent friend.
I shall not force you to be treated by him," added Christy, "But I must
suggest that this farce has been carried far enough in my cabin.
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