While he was filling his glass, he ran on, talking about half a dozen subjects, and it was not until Smith asked the result of the interview, that he would be quiet enough to listen to my communication.
"I have arranged every thing," I said. "We are to use the rifles, and meet to-morrow morning early."
"And did you make no attempts at a reconciliation?" demanded Smith, reproachfully.
"Don't answer that question, Jack," Fred said, seriously. "I placed my life and honor in your hands, and I am satisfied that you dealt with me as though I were a brother."
I grasped his extended hand, and for a few moments we sat thus, without exchanging a word, both buried in thought and conjuring up reminiscences of the past, when a few months before we had left Boston to search for gold in California, and then, actuated by a spirit of adventure, had emigrated to Australia, still cherishing the hope of returning home with riches and with honor.
"I shall write a few letters to-day, Jack," Fred said, at length. "One of them will be addressed to you, and if any thing should happen you will find full directions how to dispose of the few things which I own."
"Let me meet the man," blubbered Smith. "I'm of no account, and if killed, shan't be missed, while both of you have something to live for."
"It cannot be," replied Fred. "I insulted the gentleman, and to me alone does he look for redress. God knows I do not desire the man's blood, and still hope that I shall not be forced to spill it."
"At least promise that I may accompany you to the field?" Smith said.
His request was readily complied with; but all day long Smith's face seemed as though he had lost his only friends.