could say another word the red wine flew across the table straight
into his face.

"Take that!" I cried, "with the compliments of James Frisby of
Fairlee!"

A dozen men were now around us, and Rodolph, spluttering through the
wine and swearing many oaths, demanded to be released from the hands
upon his shoulders, shouting that he would shoot me like a dog.

"It will give me pleasure to let you have an opportunity," I replied
coolly. "It will be a rare chance for you to become a gentleman."

And so, still muttering and swearing, his friends took him from the
room, while I took my seat at the table. But I was not allowed to eat
my meal in peace; for many gentlemen came to offer their services and
to thank me. Rodolph's overbearing manners had long been unpopular
among them, and the wonder was that he had not been forced to fight
before. But I was determined that Dick should be my second, and so,
thanking them all for their kind offers, I placed my hand on Dick's
shoulder, and we went out together amid a volley of advice and
friendly warning.

Half an hour later, as I was examining my sword and Dick his pistols,
there came a rap on my door, and two gentlemen entered; one was
Captain Brooke, the other Lieutenant Barry of the Line.

"Lieutenant Frisby," said Captain Brooke, as he advanced and bowed,
"it is my painful duty to deliver you this challenge."

"It is a pleasure to receive it from your hands," I replied,
returning his courtesy. "Lieutenant Ringgold and Harry Gresham of Kent
will act as my seconds, permit me to refer you to them."

Dick now went out with them to Harry Gresham's room near by, where
they would be safe from interruption, Gresham having volunteered with
Dick to be one of my seconds, and I went on polishing my sword,
waiting for the issue. At last Dick came back.

"Well," he cried, "it is all settled. You are to fight to-morrow
morning at sunrise down in the little meadow below the creek."

"Swords, I suppose?"

"No; pistols. I insisted on swords at first, it being our privilege;
but Captain Brooke said that Rodolph had broken his arm the year
before, and that it was still too weak to fight with. So I waived the
swords and agreed to the pistols."

"It is not quite as gentlemanly a weapon, but just as deadly. I have
put a bullet through the head of a wild duck flying, and I think I can
hit Phil Rodolph."

"That you can," said Dick.

It was a bright, clear morning as we slipped out of the