“I give in,” he said. “You force me to the unromantic acknowledgment that I’ve never used a sword, and can’t shoot a revolver without jerking the barrel all around.”
“You find me mighty amusing, it seems,” said Julian, hotly.
“My dear fellow——”
“I don’t know anything more about swords or pistols than you do, I reckon, sir, but I’ll be mighty glad to—to——”
“Cut my head off or shoot holes through me? Thanks, but I never felt less like departing this life than I do now, Mr. Wayne.”
“Then you refuse?”
“Unconditionally. The fact is, you know, I, as the aggrieved party, am the one to issue the challenge. As long as I am satisfied with your apology I don’t believe you have any right to insist on shooting me.”
Julian chewed a corner of his lip and scowled.
“I thought maybe you weren’t satisfied,” he suggested hopefully.