“I am, as you say,” said Perkins, “a coward, and no fighting man when I’ve got nothing to fight for. I would not go out of doors to fight with anybody.”
“Crawford won’t admit that,” said Plummer, “and if you refuse the challenge, I ask the same satisfaction of him. Let him go out with me if he dares.”
“Plummer,” replied Crawford, “I neither know what cause there is for fighting you, nor why I should fear to go out of doors on your challenge. I do not believe that one man was made to scare another.”
“Come on, then,” said Plummer, passing into the street, closely followed by Crawford. When they had walked a few steps,
“Now pull your pistol,” said Plummer.
Crawford was standing close beside Plummer.
“I’ll pull no pistol,” he replied. “I never pulled a pistol on a man yet, and you’ll not be the first.”
“Pull your pistol,” persisted Plummer. “You may draw it and cock it, and I’ll not go for mine until you have done so, and uttered the word to fire.”
“I’m no pistol shot,” said Crawford, “and you know it,—and you wouldn’t make me a proposition of this kind if you hadn’t the advantage.”
“Pull your pistol,” retorted Plummer, with an oath, “and fight me like a man, or I’ll give you but two hours to live, and then I’ll shoot you down like a dog.”