"
"Farce! Do you cod this a farce?" demanded the wounded man indignantly.
"You have shot off by dose!"
In fact, Captain Flanger seemed to be more disturbed at the accident to
his proboscis, than by the failure of his quixotic scheme to capture the
Bronx. He was certainly a very good-looking man, and took good care of
his person, as indicated by the care bestowed upon his hair and beard.
"The farce came to an end when you menaced me with death if I declined
to sign the order you dictated, and the steward played the first scene
in the tragedy. I am sure it was a farce up to that time," replied
Christy. "Mr. Flint, have the prisoner put in irons, and remove him to
the quarters of the men forward. Give him a berthsack and a blanket, and
place a hand to stand guard over him."
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
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.
"I think you had better let me stanch the blood," suggested Dr.
Connelly.
"Do!" exclaimed the patient. "You will take off what is left of by
dose.
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