ntury life, to find such wild adventures.

"There's only one way to stop me," Tudor went on. "I can't insult you
directly, I know. You are too easy-going, or cowardly, or both, for
that. But I can narrate for you the talk of the beach--ah, that grinds
you, doesn't it? I can tell you what the beach has to say about you and
this young girl running a plantation under a business partnership."

"Stop!" Sheldon cried, for the other was beginning to vibrate and
oscillate before his eyes. "You want a duel. I'll give it to you." Then
his common-sense and dislike for the ridiculous asserted themselves, and
he added, "But it's absurd, impossible."

"Joan and David--partners, eh? Joan and David--partners," Tudor began to
iterate and reiterate in a malicious and scornful chant.

"For heaven's sake keep quiet, and I'll let you have your way," Sheldon
cried. "I never saw a fool so bent on his folly. What kind of a duel
shall it be? There are no seconds. What weapons shall we use?"

Immediately Tudor's monkey-like impishness left him, and he was once more
the cool, self-possessed man of the world.

"I've often thought that the ideal duel should be somewhat different from
the conventional one," he said. "I've fought several of that sort, you
know--"

"French ones," Sheldon interrupted.

"Call them that. But speaking of this ideal duel, here it is. No
seconds, of course, and no onlookers. The two principals alone are
necessary. They may use any weapons they please, from revolvers and
rifles to machine guns and pompoms. They start a mile apart, and advance
on each other, taking advantage of cover, retreating, circling,
feinting--anything and everything permissible. In short, the principals
shall hunt each other--"

"Like a couple of wild Indians?"

"Precisely," cried Tudor, delighted. "You've got the idea. And Berande
is just the place, and this is just the right time. Miss Lackland will
be taking her siesta, and she'll think we are. We've got two hours for
it before she wakes. So hurry up and come on. You start out from the
Balesuna and I start from the Berande. Those two rivers are the
boundaries of the plantation, aren't they? Very well. The field of the
duel will be the plantation. Neither principal must go outside its
boundaries. Are you satisfied?"

"Quite. But have you any objections if I leave some orders?"

"Not at all," Tudor acquiesced, the pink of courtesy now that his wish
had been