it was crashing down, carrying a portion of the ship's flag with it. One end struck the gun turret, and then the wreckage hit Larry on the shoulder, hurling him on his back.
The foremast was heavy and had it struck the youth before landing on the turret and the surrounding works it might have killed the young gunner's mate on the spot. As it was, Larry lay like a log where he had fallen and when Luke raised him up the old tar found him unconscious.
"If he ain't got his shoulder broke then I miss my guess," muttered the Yankee gunner." Larry! Larry! Can't ye speak to me? "
"That was a nasty one," came from one of the officers of the deck. "Better carry him below." And then the officer gave orders to remove the wreckage and hoist the flag once more.
With the unconscious youth in his arms, Luke hurried below and to the sick bay of the warship. Here the surgeon got to work immediately and examined Larry thoroughly.
"No bones broken," he announced. "But the bruise is severe and he is suffering from shock. He will soon come to his senses."
Luke had to return to his gun, for duty is duty in the navy, regardless of what is happening around one. It was true, the Russian warships were now
