"Yes, if you insist," replied Dic, calmly, as if he were accepting an invitation to dinner. "I have always supposed that this sort of an affair should be arranged between gentlemen by their friends; but of course I don't know how gentlemen act under these circumstances. Perhaps you don't consider me a gentleman, and you certainly must have some doubts in your mind concerning yourself; therefore, it may be proper for us to arrange this little matter with each other."
"I suppose you would prefer seconds," returned Williams. "They might prevent a meeting."
After a few moments of silence Dic said, "If we fight, I fear another person's name will be dragged into our quarrel."
"You may, if you wish, find plenty of excuses," returned Roger. "If you wish to accept my challenge, do so. If not, say so, and I will take my own course."
"Oh, I'll accept," returned Dic, cheerily. "As the challenged party, if we were gentlemen, I believe I might choose the weapons."
"Yes," responded Williams.
"What do you suppose would be the result were I to choose rifles at two hundred yards?" asked Dic, with an ugly smile on his face.
"I should be delighted," responded the other. "I expected you to choose hoes or pitchforks."
"I think it fair to tell you," said Dic, "that I can hit a silver dollar four times out of five shots at two hundred yards, and you will probably do well to hit a barn door once out of ten at that distance. I will let you see me shoot before I definitely choose weapons. Afterwards, if you prefer some other, I will abide your choice."
"I am satisfied with your choice," responded Williams, who prided himself upon his rifle-shooting, in which accomplishment Dic had underrated his antagonist.