This seemed to add fuel to Glanworth’s anger.
“You are a blooming snob!” he fiercely exclaimed. “I do not believe you would have the courage to meet a gentleman, anyway!”
“I might if I were forced into such an affair,” returned Frank, smiling.
“Then here—here—here is my card! I will shoot——”
“Stop, Kennington!” ordered Inza, commandingly, her hand falling on his arm, as he was fumbling, with fluttering fingers, to extract a card from the case he had taken from his pocket. “I forbid this! There can be no quarrel between you two. You do not know Frank Merriwell. He is a dead shot with rifle or pistol, and you would not stand a show.”
“Then we’d fight it out with swords.”
“And he was the champion fencer at the military school where he was educated. He is an expert with almost every kind of a weapon, and he could kill you in a duel, if you met.”
“Bah! He would not dare to meet me!”
But Kennington Glanworth uttered the words in a manner that showed he was not nearly so eager to force the American lad into a duel as he had seemed to be a short time before.
“If you think I do not dare to meet you,” said Frank, quietly, “we will let it go at that. I am quite willing you should think so.”