ercely.

"I see it is; but what has that to do with this matter?" asked the negro
officer.

"That man shot my nose off!" roared Flanger. "I am going to kill him for
it, if it costs me my head!"

"You shall not kill him here," protested the guardian of the peace. "You
have been drinking too much, sir, and you must go with me and get
sobered off."

The two policemen walked up to him with the intention of arresting him;
but he showed fight. He was too tipsy to make an effectual resistance.
His companions in the saloon huddled around him, and endeavored to
compel the policemen to let go their hold of him; but they held on to
their prisoner till two more officers came, and Flanger was dragged out
into the street, and then marched to the jail.

Christy was very much surprised that nothing was said to him by the
officers about the affair in which he had been one of the principal
actors. He had expected to be summoned as a witness against the prisoner
they had taken, but not a word was said to him. He looked about to see
if the detective was in sight, but he had disappeared.

"That was an ugly-looking man," said a gentleman in the street, after
the carousers had returned to the saloon. "I hope he has not injured
you."

"Not at all, sir; he was too drunk to do all he could have done if he
had been in full possession of his faculties, for he is a much heavier
person than I am," replied Christy. "Why was I not summoned as a witness
at his examination?"

"Oh, bless you, sir! they will not examine or try him; they will sober
him off, and then discharge him. He is the captain of that little
steamer near the public wharf. She is called the Snapper, and will sail
for the States on the high tide at five o'clock."

"Do you know to what port she is bound?" asked Christy.

"Mobile."

The young officer walked down to the public wharf to see the Snapper.

CHAPTER XIX

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

The Snapper was quite a small craft, and looked like an old vessel; for
she was a side-wheeler, though she had evidently been built for a
sea-going craft. Whether Flanger had escaped from the Bellevite after
being transferred to her from the Bronx, or had been regularly exchanged
as a prisoner of war, Christy had no means of knowing. It made little
difference; he was in Nassau, and he was thirsting for revenge against
him.

The young officer did not feel that the brutal wretch had any reasonable
cause to complain of him, and esp