and, in Terry's
name, demanded "satisfaction." Broderick was half amused at first, but
in the end retorted angrily. They parted in a violent altercation.

"Dave," said Alice, as he dined with them that evening, "your're not
going to fight this man?"

"I shall ignore the fellow. I've written him that I fight with no one
but my equal. He can make what he likes out of that. I've been in a duel
or two. Nobody will question my courage."

* * * * *

Po Lun proved a model servitor, a careful nurse. Alice often left in his
efficient hands her household tasks. Sometimes she and Benito took an
outing of a Saturday afternoon, for there was now a pleasant drive down
the Peninsula along the new San Bruno turnpike to San Mateo.

The Windhams were returning from such a drive in the pleasant afternoon
sunshine when a tumult of newsboys hawking an extra edition
arrested them.

"Big duel ... Broderick and Terry!" shrieked the "newsies." Benito
stopped the horse and bought a paper, perusing the headlines feverishly.
Alice leaned over his shoulder, her face white. Presently Benito faced
her. "Terry's forced a fight on Dave," he said huskily. "They're to meet
on Monday at the upper end of Lake Merced."

CHAPTER LIV

THE "FIELD OF HONOR"

Chief of Police Burke lingered late in his office that Saturday
afternoon. Twilight had passed into dusk, through which the street lamps
were beginning to glimmer, leaping here and there into sudden luminance
as the lamp-lighter made his rounds. Deep in the complexities of police
reports Burke had scarcely noted the entrance of a police clerk who
lighted the swinging lamp overhead. And he was only dimly aware of faint
knocking at his door. It came a second, a third time before he roused
himself. "Come in," he called, none too graciously.

The door opened with an inrush of wind which caused his lamp to flicker.
Before him stood a slight and well-gowned woman, heavily veiled. She was
trembling. He looked at her expectantly, but she did not speak.

"Please be seated, madam," said the chief of police.

But she continued to stand. Presently words came to her. "Can you stop a
duel? Will you?" Her hands went out in a gesture of supplication,
involuntary, unstudiedly dramatic.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "What duel?"

"Senator Broderick ... Justice Terry," a wealth of hate was in her
utterance of the second name. "They fight at sunrise Monday morning."

"It'