สถตสำหรบ อารเซนอล พบ ยเวนตส All was as still as it ought to be in the middle of the night, and no response came to his second inquiry. The brilliant young officer, who had just passed his eighteenth birthday, knew what it was even better than an older person to pass a whole night on difficult duty, without a wink of sleep, for he had been accustomed to spend a portion of every night in planking the deck on his watch; but at Bonnydale, his quiet home, far removed 16 from the scenes of actual conflict, he was an industrious sleeper, giving his whole attention to his slumbers, as a proper preparation for the stirring scenes in which he was again about to engage. "Now, Dave, I have another commission for you to execute," continued Christy, as he tore out the 135 leaf on which he had written the names. "Not less than twenty-five of the crew of the Bronx came from New York in the Vernon. One of them is Ralph Pennant, and he is an intelligent man, and one that can be trusted. You will see him. Tell him the commander is an impostor. Do you know what an impostor is, Dave?" "Count them for yourself!" exclaimed Captain Flanger in brutal tones. "I have one in my stateroom; but it is altogether too small for you," replied the commander, glancing in the gloom of the night at the stalwart form of the third lieutenant, lacking not more than an inch of six feet, and his weight could not have been less than one hundred and eighty. "We will see what can be done in the morning." "Here you differ. Did you make a report of your voyage home, Lieutenant Passford?" continued the captain, pointing at Corny.