“What do you say, Sam, to making a stop at Magdalena Bay?” asked Uncle Naboth, as we stood on the deck of the _Seagull_, anchored in Golden Gate Harbor. “I know,” he replied; “but the torpedo fleet is there, doin’ target practice, an’ Admiral Seebre has asked us to drop some mail an’ dispatches there, as well as a few supplies missed by the transport that left last Tuesday.”…
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