"I don't reckon you will. Do you see my nose? Look at it! Don't you see that it is knocked into a cocked hat?" said Flanger fiercely.
"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.