Peele, who was an admirable boxer for his age, regarded Gough with particular contempt.
"Squinnige would be at us before I'd blackened the other eye," he said to Gough. "Name your weapons. We'll fight this thing out like gentlemen."
Gough was staggered. If he did not assert himself his ascendency was gone forever.
"I'd like to punch your head," he said; "but, as you say, when gentlemen fight about a woman they don't do it with fists. Swords and pistols are common. I'd like something worse."
Gough's followers crowded to the support of their chief with a thrill of delight.
"I call this prime," said the Guinea-Pig. "Prime!" he repeated, smacking his lips.
Peele waved his hand with lofty condescension.
"As you please," he said, glancing idly at the blackboard. Then a thought struck him which did credit to his love of the dramatic.
"What do you say to stilts?" he asked.
"Stilts!" said Gough, in amazement. "You might as well talk of 80-ton guns."