"
"As you please," replied the surgeon, as the second lieutenant returned
attended by two stout seamen.
"Remove the handcuff from his left wrist, and fit him out with a new
pair," said Mr. Flint, who still held the left arm of the prisoner.
Mr. Camden took off the irons, for he had a key to them, and enclosed
the wrist in the new pair. Then the two men were directed to take his
right arm, which they did, and drew his hand from his nose. This act
roused the ire of Flanger, and he began to struggle; but powerful as he
was, the two seamen were too much for him, and he was fairly handcuffed.
The second lieutenant was the officer of the deck, and he was sent back
to his post of duty. Flanger's face was so covered and daubed with the
gore from his wound that the condition of his prominent facial member
could not be determined.
"I protest agailst this brutal treatmelt!" stormed the prisoner, as he
continued to writhe in his irons. "I am a woulded plisoler!"
"I see you are; but you decline to permit the surgeon to dress your
wound. I have no more time to fool with you, and the men will put you
on a berthsack forward. If you want the surgeon to attend to your wound,
you have only to say so."
"It is a bad wound though not a dangerous one," said Dr.
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