Such a dispute could have but one ending, even without the deadly insult in which it had culminated. In those early days in the West dueling was common on very much smaller cause than this quarrel afforded. Any one who had dared to dissent from the custom and refused to meet his enemy on the “field of honor” would have been publicly branded as the most cowardly of men. “You will meet me to-morrow morning!” hissed the bully, choking back his rage with an effort. “Certainly--whenever and wherever you like,” replied the young rancher. At this point Buffalo Bill, who had been smoking on the veranda and had heard the scuffle, entered the room. He took in the situation at a glance and went up to Ketchum. “I don’t like your face or your manner, Mr. Ketchum,” he said, in a hard, clear voice, which every man in the room could hear. “It will give me great pleasure if you will meet me in the morning before you fulfill your engagement with my friend here.” Ketchum looked into the eyes of the border king, which were filled with a somber and dangerous light, and he quailed before them. “I have no quarrel with you,” he muttered. “My quarrel is with your friend. He struck me in a most unwarranted manner.” “Oh, is that all? Well, he’s not the only man who can do it.” Buffalo Bill stepped lightly forward and struck the bully a smashing blow between the eyes, which sent him reeling to the floor. “Have you got a quarrel with me now?” he asked, as the man got up and wiped away the blood that was streaming from his nose. “Yes, curse you! I suppose I must fight you, but I insist on my right to fight this young whelp here first!” “And so do I!” cried Mainwaring. “Cody, you mean well, but I won’t let you take up my quarrel in this way. I can fight my own battles, and I will. But I’ll be very much obliged to you if you will act as my second.” “Certainly I will,” said Cody, seeing that it was hopeless to try to prevent the duel, now that the quarrel had gone so far. “And if you fall it will not be long before I avenge you. But, you hot-headed young ass, why couldn’t you leave him alone, as I wanted you to do?” * * * * * It was a clear, bright, beautiful morning when the two men went forth from the little frontier hotel to kill or be killed. The sun was rising in cloudless glory over the green-clad prairie. All nature seemed peaceful and glad and bright around these two men who had murder in their breasts toward one another. All the men who had witnessed the quarrel on the previous evening were present. One of them consented to act as a second for Ketchum, who seemed to have no friends of his own. As the insulted party, Ketchum had not only the choice of weapons, but also the decision as to the manner in which the duel should be fought out. He chose the French “barrier” method, in spite of the protest of his second that it was altogether too bloodthirsty.