"Hang the faculty! We'll have to take chances. You can't stand his insults, Merry, and you'll have to fight him with the weapons he has named. That's the only thing you can do."
"You may be right," said Frank, slowly. "I am getting sick of the way the thing is going, but I don't want to make a fool of myself."
"You won't; but you'll make a monkey of Rob Marline, and I'll bet on it. Why, Merry, you are wonderfully clever with the foils, and you have nerves of iron."
"Still, there might be a slip, you know."
"Are you afraid he'll do you up?"
"Not that," said Frank, "although I know he might. I'll tell you the truth. I hate Marline, and I might do him up. A sword is a nasty weapon. What if I should run him through?"
"I never saw the time yet when you were not your own master. I don't think there is any danger that you will kill Marline, but you pink him, just so he would remember you. He wouldn't blow. He's from the South. He wouldn't blow if you pinked him for keeps."
"I think you are right about that. Well, Jack, there's no telling what I may be driven into. If I have to meet him in a duel, I shall call on you to act as my second."
"You may depend on me. I'll serve you with great satisfaction. Call him out, Merry—call him out!"