Dunton hesitated, a sour look on his face.
“Be a man,” urged Havener. “Promise.”
“Be a man!” Those words cut, and Dunton ground his teeth softly. Then, all at once, he pretended to relent, and he said:
“Oh, well, I can’t forget so quickly, but I’ll do what I can for the fellow on the duel.”
“That’s good,” nodded Havener. “I shall be watching.”
“Yes, I’ll do what I can for him!” grated Dunton, softly, as the stage-manager moved away. “Oh, but you had a crust to come to me and talk like that!”
When the curtain went up for the third act, Dunton was eager for the time of the duel to arrive. His eagerness made him go at his part with more vim than heretofore, and Havener, watching him, nodded his satisfaction, saying to himself:
“I guess the fellow sees at last that he has been making a fool of himself. He’ll be all right, now.”
The third act went with a swing that fairly carried the audience. Bursts of applause were frequent. The play was a success, and Havener knew he would receive congratulations from Haley, who was “on the front of the house.” At last the duel scene was on. It was a forest setting, and Merriwell, the challenged party, had fallen into a snare set for him by Dunton, the villain, by naming swords as the weapons.
Dunton and his second were first on the scene, and the conversation between them was to the effect that in three minutes the time set for the duel would pass, and there were no signs of the challenged party.