One night we was in the setting room--me and Jonadab and the count and
Ebenezer. The "queen" and the rest of the boarders was abed.

The count was spinning a pigeon English yarn of how he'd fought a duel
with rapiers. When he'd finished, old Dillaway pounded his knee and sung
out:

"That's bus'ness! That's the way to fix 'em! No lawsuits, no argument,
no delays. Just take 'em out and punch holes in 'em. Did you hear that,
Brown?"

"Yes, I heard it," says Peter, kind of absent-minded like. "Fighting
with razors, wan't it?"

Now there wan't nothing to that--'twas just some of Brown's sarcastic
spite getting the best of him--but I give you my word that the count
turned yellow under his brown skin, kind of like mud rising from the
bottom of a pond.

"What-a you say?" he says, bending for'ards.

"Mr. Brown was mistaken, that's all," says Dillaway; "he meant rapiers."

"But why-a razors--why-a razors?" says the count.

Now I was watching Brown's face, and all at once I see it light up
like you'd turned a searchlight on it. He settled back in his chair and
fetched a long breath as if he was satisfied. Then he grinned and begged
pardon and talked a blue streak for the rest of the evening.