The next day, while he was eating his scanty dinner, the lieutenant
in charge of the prisoners came in, and, as was his custom, began to
argue with them as to the probable termination of the war. Frank
had always hoped that he would let him alone, for the lieutenant
invariably became enraged if the prisoners endeavored to uphold their
Government.
"Well, young man," he exclaimed, walking up to Frank, "how do you get
along?"
"As well as can be expected, I suppose," answered Frank.
"How do you relish being a prisoner? Are you not sorry that you ever
took up arms against us?"
"No, I am not," answered Frank, indignantly, "You'll have to fight me
again, as soon as I get out of this scrape."
"What made you come down here to fight us?"
"Because I thought you needed a good drubbing."
"Well, we haven't had it yet;" said the lieutenant, stroking his
moustache. "Why didn't you take Fort Pemberton? You got the worst of
it there. We sunk the Ticonderoga."
"Oh, yes," answered Frank, with a sneer, "no doubt of it. But, on the
whole, I think you had better tell that to the marines.
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