s to go some to round up and
get the right brand on some of these blue-blooded names of yours.
What'll it be?"

"Thank you. I am not thirsty. I prefer not." With which Mr. Ainsa
executed another bow.

"Just as you say, colonel. But you'll let me know if you change your
mind."

Dick indicated a chair to his visitor, and took another himself; then
leisurely opened the epistle and read it. After he had done so he handed
it to Davis.

"This is for you, too, Steve. The _don_ is awfully anxious to have you
meet Mr. Ainsa and have a talk with him," chuckled Gordon.

"'To arrange a meeting with your friend,' Why, it's a duel he means,
Dick."

"That's what I gathered. We're getting right up in society. A duel's
more etiquettish than bridge-whist, Steve. Ain't you honored, being
invited to one. You're to be my second, you see."

"I'm hanged if I do," exploded the old miner promptly.

"Sho! It ain't hard, when you learn the steps."

"I ain't going to have nothing to do with it. Tommyrot! That's what I
call it."

"Don't say it so loud, Steve, or you'll hurt Mr. Ainsa's feelings,"
chided his partner.

"Think I'm going to make a monkey of myself at my age?"

Dick turned mournfully to the messenger of war.

"I'm afraid it's off, Mr. Ainsa. My second says he won't play."

"We shall be very glad to furnish you a second, sir."

"All right, and while you're at it furnish a principal, too. I'm an
American. I write my address Cripple Creek, Colorado, U.S.A. We don't
fight duels in my country any more. They've gone out with buckled shoes
and knee-pants, Mr. Ainsa."

"Do I understand that Mr. Gordon declines to meet my friend on the field
of honor?"

"That's the size of it."

"I am then instruct' to warn you to go armed, as my friend will punish
your insolence at sight informally."

It was just at this moment that Mrs. Corbett, flushed with the vain
chase of her fleeing brood of chickens, came perspiring round the house.
Her large, round person, not designed by nature for such arduous
exercise, showed signs of fatigue.

"I declare, if them chickens ain't got out, and me wanting two for
supper," she panted, arms on her ample hips.

"That's too bad. Let me chase them," volunteered Dick.

He grasped his rifle, took a quick, careless aim, and fired. A
long-legged, flying cockerel keeled over and began to kick.

"Gracious me!" ejaculated the woman.

"Two, did you say?" asked the man behind the gun.

"I said two."