f this. I wonder if I know him. Is he a Newbern man?"

"No, sir; he hails from up toward Plymouth. And he isn't a doctor,
either. He's the captain."

"Oh, ah!" said the surgeon, who was very much surprised to hear it. "I
see, now that I come to look at it closely, that it is not quite as
straight as I thought it was. It sticks out a little on this side, and
your arm will always be more or less crooked. It is unfortunate that you
did not have a surgeon aboard; but we will have to let it go."

"Of course I can't do duty with one hand," said Marcy, "and so the
captain has given me leave to go home for awhile. I can travel on the
cars, I suppose?"

"There's nothing in the world to hinder it," replied the medical man,
who seemed on a sudden to have lost all interest in Marcy and his
injured arm. "I will do it up again and give you a little medicine, and
you will get along all right. It's a mere trifle."

When Marcy asked what his bill was, he told himself that he made a
mistake when he said it was the captain and not a doctor who set his
arm, for the surgeon charged him a good round price for his trouble, as
well as for the little bottle of tonic he wrapped up for him; and when
he went to the telegraph office, the operator who sent off a dispatch to
his mother made no distinction between him and a citizen. The dispatch
ran as follows:

Arrived from Nassau this morning with a valuable cargo after a running
fight with the Yankees. Had two men slightly injured. Will leave for
Boydtown by first train.

"After mother reads that she will not be so very much shocked when she
sees me with my arm in a sling," was what he told himself as he passed
the dispatch over to the operator.

"Did you have a tight with one of the blockaders?" asked the latter
carelessly. He had become accustomed to the sight of wounded men since
the battle of Bull Run was fought, and did not take a second look at
Marcy.

"It wasn't much of a fight, seeing that there was but one shot fired on
our side," answered the pilot. "But that one shot was what brought us
through. It wasn't a blockader, either, but a launch; and if you want to
see what she did to us, step down to the wharf and take a look at the
_Hattie_. One more round of canister would have made a wreck of us."

"And you happened to be one of the two who were wounded, I reckon," said
the operator. "Fifty cents, please."

"The last time I sent off a dispatch from here you did not tax me a cen