The Blockade Runner — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THH BLOCKADE RUNNER. en waiting for him. The two met cordially, and went off arm in arm like confidential friends. “Well, she is off your hands, Bardolph !” exclaimed Grilmor. “The devil you say,” exclaimed young Mr. Bardolph. ‘Who is the purchaser ?” “Gordon Mowbray.” “The deuce! At what price ?” “ The one you named.” “ Good! Gilmor, you don’t know what a load you’va lifted from my heart. You shall have your commis. sion as soon as Mowbray secures the payments. Sold!- and well sold, too.” “That’s what I say.” “She'll never run the blockade, Gilmor. Those Yankee sbips will redouble their vigilance since the Foxhound got in with such a valuable cargo, and the Swiftwing will either be sunk or captured within sight of the coast. Then—but you know the rest.” “Yes,” said Gilmor; and then he added under his breath. ‘ And that’s why I never intend to sail in the Swiftwing.” The two men adjourned to a neighboring wine shop, and, over the costliest vintage the proprietor could place before them, they drank to the successful sale of the new privateer, which, in Mowbray’s mind, was to sweep the seas and rid him forever of his troublesome nephew. An hour later they left the drinking-place and sought out the office of the Messrs. Bardolph, where the senior member of the firm told them that Gordon Mowbray had just departed, carrying with him cer- tain papers which constituted him sole owner of the privateer. CoOMmuicooks co 5}