'What!' gasped out the brave Mr. Ham, while a gleam of hope shot through his eyes like a sunbeam, 'Mr. Drummond could ride away and get me one in fifteen minutes.'
'Mr. Drummond,' replied Harland, 'this would be absurd. The thing will be all over in three minutes.'
'But it would keep me warm going home.'
'For only three minutes longer, however,' Harland again replied, addressing the second. 'Besides,' he added, 'it might be'—and here stopped short with the manifest intention of torturing the cowardly wretch. It was noticed by Roland that Ham was constantly casting his eyes up the hollow, as if expecting somebody. At last a thought flashed upon him.
'Mr. Harland, I believe that craven has notified the officers of justice, and that he expects them to come and break up the affair. Let us therefore proceed. He may keep on the remainder of his wraps. No delay; measure off the ground.' The two seconds then measured off fifteen paces, and stopped.
'Not such a short distance as that!' shrieked Mr. Ham.
'Why, I thought your friend never fired except with a shot-gun at crows?' Harland observed. 'But it appears that he is a crack shot. And so generous, too; since the greater distance is intended no doubt for the safety of Mr. Gray.' This was said in a tone just loud enough to be heard by all the rest.
'Ask Mr. Ham what distance he would propose—I have no objection to the inquiry.'
'What distance would you propose, Mr. Ham!' inquired the second.
'My pistol will carry at least a hundred yards; I drove a ball through an inch board with her yesterday. Why not make it, say eighty paces?'