"Most certainly," said Williams, flushing.
"Well, now, suppose he simply threatened to do so," continued Stanard. "Would that be cause enough?"
"It might."
"Well, then, Mr. Williams, Mr. Mallory desires me with all politeness to beg permission to threaten to strike you."
"I see," said the other, smiling at the solemn air with which the lank stranger made this extraordinary request. "I see. I have no objection to his so doing."
"Thank you," said Stanard. "A fight is now necessary, I believe?"
"Er—yes," said Williams. "I believe it is." The fact of the matter was that he saw that Mark was in a position to force a fight if he chose, and the yearling was by no means reluctant, anyhow.
"I thank you for your courtesy," he continued, bowing Stanard out of the tent. "Tell Mr. Mallory that I shall send my second to see him this evening. Good-day."
And Stanard bowed and strode away with joy in his very stride.
"We have met the enemy," was his report to Mark. "We have met the enemy, and there's going to be a fight!"