s.

"Neither do I feel disposed to risk my friend's life with swords, a
weapon which he knows nothing of," I replied.

"Then perhaps we had better settle the matter satisfactorily without
fighting," Mr. Merriam said.

"With all my heart," I cried, with alacrity. "I will meet you half way
in any scheme of pacification."

"Then let your friend say that he is sorry for using the words, and send
a note to that effect to my principal."

"We can't do that," I replied, after a moment's thought. "But I will
tell you what we will do. We will say that during all our travels we
never saw a man who could suck a sword hilt so gracefully as your
friend."

"Pshaw," cried the Englishman with a grim smile, "don't let us trifle
over the matter, it is too serious."

"I know that, and it's the very reason why I wish to settle the quarrel
without bloodshed," I answered.

"Then you decline to apologize?" inquired Merriam, after a short pause,
during which he helped himself to another cup of coffee.

"Only on the grounds which I have stated," I answered.

"And you still insist upon rifles being used?" continued he.

"A just regard which I have for my friend compels me to say that I
cannot conscientiously consent to use any other weapon. At the same time
I protest against being called to the field for a few words spoken in
jest."

The Englishman slowly sipped his coffee and remained deep in thought, as
though there was some matter on his mind in which he wished
enlightenment, yet feared to broach the subject. At length he showed his
hand, and I saw his move.

"The rifle is extensively used in America, I believe," Merriam said,
carelessly.

"In some sections of the country it is a favorite weapon," I replied.

"I have heard much of the rifle shooting in the United States, and have
often longed to witness a specimen of the skill of its marksmen. Has
your friend seen much service with that weapon?"

"He has lived in a city since he was twelve years of age," I replied,
evasively, "and in cities there is not much chance to practise."

"Then he is not a skilful marksman?" cried Merriam, eagerly.

"He is fair," I replied. "In Vermont he would be called only a
third-rate marksman."

"And pray, may I ask what you call a first class marksman?"

"A good rifle shot is a man who can hit a shilling piece five times out
of six, standing at a distance which requires a telescope to see the
money."

"And what is a third-class marksma