As O'Flynnone explained, the duel would have to be fought with "killing
weapons"; nothing else would satisfy the bloodthirsty editor. Meanwhile
he would think on the matter, and he advised McTavish to do likewise.

The following were the most unpleasant days of his life, as McTavish
confessed afterwards. He was not a "conscientious objector," but he had
no pressing wish to exterminate his opponent, as that would have
necessitated a sudden and forcible exile from the land of his adoption;
still less did he fancy an early demise in the interests of his paper.

Meanwhile the General visited the rival editor's seconds and arranged
for a meeting in his own rooms to discuss final conditions.

O'Flynnone's rooms contained, among other things, a collection of
curious and ancient weapons. The walls were decorated with all sorts and
conditions of strange and barbarous instruments of slaughter; Zulu
assegais, Afghan knives and Burmese swords hung in savage array.

The meeting took place on the following Sunday afternoon. The officers
greeted the General agreeably enough, but saluted McTavish with the
stiffness that the occasion called for.

"Well, Señores," commenced the General, after depositing his visitors in
the most comfortable chairs, "to business. Mr. McTavish, as you will
admit, has the choice of weapons."

The officers nodded assent.

"This gentleman," continued O'Flynnone, "comes of that most noble and