"I am not sure that Captain Breaker would be willing to receive me as
his second lieutenant," Christy objected.
"I am sure he would," protested Paul.
"I don't want him to take me simply because my father desires him to do
so," answered the young commander, shaking his head.
"Then let your father give him the choice of two or three officers. That
will settle the matter."
"I don't know, Paul; I will think of the matter, and write to you as
soon as I have time. There comes the boat. Mr. Flint, have the prisoner
brought on deck to be transferred to the Bellevite."
In a few minutes the two stout sailors who had removed him from the
captain's cabin appeared on deck, dragging Captain Flanger after them,
for he would not walk, and did all he could with his hands made fast
behind him to embarrass his conductors.
"Captain Passford, I protest agailst this treatment of a prisoler of
war," howled the privateersman.
"All right, Captain Flanger."
"I say I am abused, and dragged from below like a dog."
"If you stand up and walk like a man, the dog will not be dragged."
"Boat alongside, sir," reported a quartermaster.
"Put him into the boat," added Christy.
The prisoner was certainly a hideous-looking object, his face daubed
with blood, and his nose a mass of tangled flesh; but he was put into
the boat in spite of his struggles.
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