Concho (wrathfully). Bully! (Aside.) I have heard that this
pomposo, this braggart, is a Yankee trick too; that he has the
front of a lion, the liver of the chicken. (Aloud.) Yes, I have
said, you hear I have said, I, Concho (striking his breast), have
said you are a--bully!

Starbottle (coolly). Then you are prepared to give me satisfaction,
sir,--personal satisfaction.

Concho (raging). Yes, sir, now--you understand, now (taking out
pistol), anywhere, here! Yes, here. Ah! you start,--yes, here and
now! Face to face, you understand, without seconds,--face to face.
So. (Presenting pistol.)

Starbottle (quietly). Permit me to--er--apologize.

Concho. Ah! It is too late!

Starbottle (interrupting). Excuse me, but I feared you would not
honor me so completely and satisfactorily. Ged, sir, I begin to
respect you! I accede to all your propositions of time and
position. The pistol you hold in your hand is a derringer, I
presume, loaded. Ah--er--I am right. The one I now produce
(showing pistol) is--er--as you will perceive the same size and
pattern, and--er--unloaded. We will place them both, so, under the
cloth of this table. You shall draw one pistol, I will take the
other. I will put that clock at ten minutes to nine, when we will
take our positions across this table; as you--er--happily express
it, "face to face." As the clock strikes the hour, we will fire on
the second stroke.