"Only ruffians and prize fighters use their fists."
"Eh? What do you mean?"
"I mean business, sah!" shot back the boy from South Carolina, drawing himself up, with the aid of his crutch. "You have seen fit, Mr. Merriwell, to consider yourself insulted by me, and you have demanded satisfaction. You shall have it, sah—all you want! We will fight, but not with our fists. I am the challenged party, and I name swords as the weapons!"
Marline's words produced a sensation. Of all who heard them, Frank Merriwell seemed the least startled or surprised. Danny Griswold near fell off the fence. All the boys looked at each other, and then stared at the boy from South Carolina, as if seeking to discover if he could be in earnest.
He was in deadly earnest; there could be no doubt of it. His face was pale, and his eyes gleamed. The fighting blood of the Marlines was aroused.
Then the other lads of the group remembered the record made by the Marlines, the famous fighters of South Carolina. They remembered that Rob Marline's ancestors were duelists before him, and every one of them on record had killed his man!
With such an example in his own family, and with certain notions of the proper course for a man to defend his honor, it was certain Marline meant business when he named swords as the weapons.
But such a meeting could not take place. It was unlawful. Besides that, dueling was not popular in the North, and it was not believed that a man showed cowardice if he refused to consider the challenge of an enemy.
What would Merriwell do? He could not accept Marline's proposal, and still it would not be easy for him to back down, after demanding satisfaction. He was in a trying position, and the boys wondered how he would get out of it.
"Mr. Marline," said Frank, and his voice was perfectly calm and cool, "you must be aware that such a thing as you propose is utterly impossible."