done with him, Paul Vapoor, the chief
engineer, the young lieutenant's particular crony, hugged him as though
he were a brother.

Most of the old officers were still in the ship, and Christy found
himself entirely at home where-ever he went on board. He was duly
presented to Mr. Walbrook, the third lieutenant, the acting second
lieutenant having returned to the flag-ship in the tender.

For all the rest of the year the Bellevite remained on duty as a
blockader off Fort Morgan. It was an idle life for the most part, and
Christy began to regret that he had caused himself to be transferred
from the command of the Bronx. The steamer occasionally had an
opportunity to chase a blockade-runner, going in or coming out of the
bay. She was the fastest vessel on the station, and she never failed to
give a good account of herself.

Late in the year the Bellevite and Bronx were ordered to operate at
Tampa Bay, where it was believed that several vessels were loading with
cotton. On the arrival of the ships off the bay, a boat expedition was
organized to ascertain what vessels were in the vicinity. But the
entrance was protected by a battery, and it was supposed that there were
field-works in several places on the shores. One of these was discovered
just inside of Palm Key, and the Bellevite opened upon it with her big
midship gun. Two or three such massive balls were enough for the
garrison, and they beat a precipitate retreat, abandoning their pieces.
There was water enough to permit the steamer to go into the bay nearly
to the town at the head of it.

No other batteries were to be seen, and the Bronx proceeded up the bay,
followed by the Bellevite. When the latter had proceeded as far as the
depth of water rendered it prudent for her to go at that time of tide,
the Bronx went ahead some ten miles farther. The boat expedition,
consisting of three cutters from the Bellevite and one from the Bronx,
moved towards the head of the bay. Christy, in the second cutter of the
Bellevite, was at least two miles from any other boat, when a punt
containing a negro put out from the shore near him.

"Are you a frien' ob de colored man?" demanded the negro as soon as he
came within speaking-distance of the cutter.

"Within reasonable limits, I am the friend of the colored man," replied
Christy, amused at the form of the question.

"What you gwine to do up dis bay, massa?" asked the colored man.

"That will depend upon what we find up this