“I know. It’s all right. I’ll show him the kind of stuff I’m made of, I will! He thinks he’ll frighten me, but he’ll find out he can’t jar me a bit. I’ll meet him with weapons of any sort. I’ll meet him anywhere!”
“Whoop!” cried Buckhart. “The old boy means it, pard, and I reckon he’ll make good!”
“Mowbry Fitts will find out that I’ll make good,” said Zenas. “He can’t send his representative here and frighten Zenas Gunn, of Fardale. Fix it up, Richard. You shall be my second. I leave it all to you. That unfortunate fall shook me up, and I’m a trifle dizzy. I’ll retire again. But this gentleman had better tell old Fitts to prepare for his funeral. That’s all he’ll be good for when I am through with him.”
Then Zenas again retired to his room.
Aziz Achmet waited. Dick Merriwell thought swiftly.
“Where and when shall this duel take place?” he asked.
“There is an old cemetery a short distance up the street,” said the Turk.
“Well?”
“It will be an excellent place for the meeting.”
“And the hour?”