comfortable position
on the bottom of the boat, and then examined into his condition.
A bullet had struck him in the right side, and the blood was flowing
freely from the wound. Mr. Pennant did the best he could for his relief,
and the man said he was comfortable.

"Sail ahead!" shouted the bow oarsman, looking behind him.

"What is it, Gorman?" asked the lieutenant, standing up in his place.

"A steamer, sir," answered Gorman.

"I see her; it is the Bronx," added Mr. Pennant.

By this time it was broad daylight, and apparently the fog was not as
dense as it had been earlier in the morning. The boat with her tow
continued on her course, now headed for the gunboat which the officer
had made out. In ten minutes more the expedition was within hailing
distance of the steamer, which immediately stopped her screw.

The cutter came up at the gangway of the Bronx, and Christy was standing
on the rail, anxious to learn what the boat had accomplished. He had
heard the report of the volley fired at the cutter, and had been very
solicitous for the safety of her crew. He had weighed anchor as soon as
he heard the sounds, and proceeded in the direction from which they
came.

"I have to report the capture of the small sloop, the Magnolia, in tow,"
said the third lieutenant, touching his cap to the commander. "We have
eleven prisoners. Hilton is wounded, and I will send him on board first,
if you please."

"Do so," replied Christy. "Mr. Camden, pass the word for Dr. Connelly."

A couple of men were directed to convey the wounded seaman up the steps,
and he was handed over to the doctor, who had him conveyed to the sick
bay. The obdurate Captain Flanger was next sent up to the deck, where
Mr. Camden received him, and made him fast to the rail without note
or comment; and even Christy made no remark except to give necessary
orders. The other prisoners were not bound, and they were put under
guard in the waist. The dignified gentleman in black was the last to
come up the stairs.

The moment he put his feet upon the deck, the commander stepped back,
with a look of profound astonishment, if not of dismay, on his face, as
he glanced at the important prisoner of the party. At first he seemed to
be unable to believe the evidence of his senses, and gazed with intense
earnestness at the gentleman.

"Uncle Homer!" exclaimed Christy, extending his hand to him, which
Colonel Passford, as he was called at home, though he was not in the