“Thinking of Sallie Ford, I reckon,” some one replied; and the remark passed with a laugh. Pete was near enough to catch this, but he did not stop to set them right in their conjectures. He slipped into the house.
It was less than two hours after this when Dale Randolph returned and went immediately to his cousin’s room, where Harrison followed him.
“Well?” said the latter, as soon as the door closed behind them.
“It’s all arranged, and he’s anxious to hurry it through for fear some one may interfere. Pistols, and to-morrow morning at daybreak.”
“And the place?”
“The little stretch of woods that borders Ford’s Creek. I say, Harrison, it isn’t too late to stop this thing yet. It’s a shame for you two fellows to fight. You’re both too decent to be killed yet.”
“He insulted me.”
“Without intention, every one believes.”
“Then let him apologize.”
“As well ask the devil to take Communion.”