"Not that I know of," was the response. "How are you, Bradish?" "How are you?" replied Bradish. "Mr. Barnstable, I've called twice to-day at your rooms." "I am sorry that I was out," Barnstable answered with awkward politeness. "I have been here since luncheon." "I'm half sorry to find you now," Bradish proceeded, while Harbinger and Jack looked on with some surprise at the gravity of his manner. "I've got to do an errand to you that I'm afraid you'll laugh at." "An errand to me?" Barnstable returned. Bradish drew out his pocket-book, and with deliberation produced a note. He examined it closely, as if to assure himself that there was no mistake about what he was doing, and then held out the missive to Barnstable. "Yes," he said, "I have the honor to be the bearer of a challenge from the Count Shimbowski, who claims that you have grossly insulted him. Will you kindly name a friend? There," he concluded, looking at Harbinger and Neligage with a grin, "I think I did that right, didn't I?" "Gad!" cried Jack. "Has the Count challenged him? What a lark!" "Nonsense!" Harbinger said. "You can't be serious, Bradish?" "No, I'm not very serious about it, but I assure you the Count is." "Challenged me?" demanded Barnstable, tearing open the epistle. "What does the dago mean? He says--what's that word?--he says his honor ex--expostulates my blood. Of course I shan't fight." Bradish shook his head, although he could not banish the laughter from his face. "Blood is what he wants. He says he shall have to run you through in the street if you won't fight." "Oh, you'll have to fight!" put in Jack. "The Count's a regular fire-eater," declared Tom. "You wouldn't like to be run through in the street, Barnstable." Barnstable looked from one to another as if he were unable to understand what was going on around him. "Curse it!" he broke out, his face assuming its apoplectic redness. "Curse those fellows that write novels! Here I've got to be assassinated just because some confounded scribbler couldn't keep from putting my private affairs in his infernal book! It's downright murder!" "And the comic papers afterward," murmured Jack. "But what are you going to do about it?" asked Tom. "You might have the Count arrested and bound over to keep the peace," suggested Bradish. "That's a nice speech for the Count's second!" cried Jack with a roar. "What am I going to do?" repeated Barnstable. "I'll fight him!" He struck himself on the chest, and glared around him, while they all stood in astonished silence. "My wife has been insulted," he went on with fresh vehemence, "and I had a right to call the man that did it a villain or anything else! I owe it to her to fight him if he won't take it back!" "Gad!" said Jack, advancing and holding out his hand, "that's melodrama and no mistake; but I like your pluck! I'll back you up, Barnstable!" "Does that mean that you'll be his second, Jack?" asked Harbinger, laughing.