The Captain and the Doctor conferred together. The other two studiously kept apart.
'Very well. I'll measure the ground, and do you place your man.'
It was done.
'Now for the pistols,' whispered the Captain to his fellow-second.
'They are all ready, in the valise,' replied the Doctor.
The principals were placed, ten paces apart, and wearing that decidedly uncomfortable air a man has who is in momentary expectation of being shot.
'You will fire, gentlemen, simultaneously, when I give the word,' said the Captain. Then, in an undertone, to the Doctor, 'Quick, the pistols.'
The Doctor, stooping over and fumbling at the valise, appeared to find something that surprised him.
'Why, what the devil—'
'What's the matter?' asked the Captain, striding up. 'Can't you find the caps?'