'Ask Mr. Ham what distance he would propose--I have no objection to
the inquiry.'
'What distance would you propose, Mr. Ham!' inquired the second.
'My pistol will carry at least a hundred yards; I drove a ball
through an inch board with her yesterday. Why not make it, say eighty
paces?'
'Because, Mr. Drummond,' Harland replied, 'over fifteen paces is
"poltroon distance," and, besides, our pistols do not carry
effectively more than twenty paces. We will not, however, under any
circumstances, fight on "poltroon distance."'
'I agree,' replied Mr. Drummond.
'Now then, gentlemen, take your places.'
The doctor whispered to Roland: 'Is it fair, quite, to fight him
when he says that you are a crack shot, and that he has never fired?'
'He lies, doctor; it is the other way. I learn that from childhood
he has been firing at all sorts of things with pistols; and _I have
never fired a pistol shot in my life._'
'Your places, gentlemen,' cried Drummond. Roland was already at his
post; but his opponent was not yet upon his ground.
'Why this unseemly haste?' he gasped. 'I am so unsteadied by my
illness, that I am really not in a position yet to take my ground.
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