"Well, I am afraid I have a duel on my hands."

"A duel?"

"Yes; on my way here I accidentally bumped into some fiery French
lieutenant. He slapped me across the face and I knocked him down. He then
informed me his friend would call on me this evening. That sounds like a
duel to me."

"Yes," said Chester, "unless it can be patched up."

"I am afraid it can't. You know these Frenchmen. As far as I am
concerned, there is nothing to fight about, but I am afraid the Frenchman
feels he has a grievance. He'll probably demand a fight or an apology."

"Well?"

"I have nothing to apologize for; therefore I am afraid it means a duel."

"Not if I can prevent it," exclaimed Chester, jumping to his feet.

"But you can't," replied Hal grimly. "And you had better lie down again.
You are liable to strain your wound."

"Oh, I am not worrying about the wound," exclaimed Chester. "The doctor
said there was no danger. It's you I am worrying about. Why, you are
likely to be killed."

"Oh, I guess I can give a good account of myself," returned Hal. "I've
been pretty fortunate thus far. I don't figure I am going to fall before