Mrs. Skagg's Husbands and Other StoriesHarte, Bret
General
Mrs. Skagg's Husbands and Other Stories
Harte, Bret
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories; Western stories
The way this one thing was done belongs to the record of Madrono Hollow.
The morning was bright and clear; the air was slightly chill, but that
was from the mist which arose along the banks of the river. As early
as six o'clock the designated ground--a little opening in the madrono
grove--was occupied by Culpepper Starbottle, Colonel Starbottle, his
second, and the surgeon. The Colonel was exalted and excited, albeit
in a rather imposing, dignified way, and pointed out to the surgeon the
excellence of the ground, which at that hour was wholly shaded from the
sun, whose steady stare is more or less discomposing to your duellist.
The surgeon threw himself on the grass and smoked his cigar. Culpepper,
quiet and thoughtful, leaned against a tree and gazed up the river.
There was a strange suggestion of a picnic about the group, which was
heightened when the Colonel drew a bottle from his coat-tails, and,
taking a preliminary draught, offered it to the others. “Cocktails,
sir,” he explained with dignified precision. “A gentleman, sir, should
never go out without 'em. Keeps off the morning chill. I remember going
out in '53 with Hank Boompirater. Good ged, sir, the man had to put on
his overcoat, and was shot in it. Fact.”
But the noise of wheels drowned the Colonel's reminiscences, and a
rapidly driven buggy, containing Jack Folinsbee, Calhoun Bungstarter,
his second, and Bill Masters, drew up on the ground. Jack Folinsbee
leaped out gayly. “I had the jolliest work to get away without the
governor's hearing,” he began, addressing the group before him with the
greatest volubility. Calhoun Bungstarter touched his arm, and the young
man blushed. It was his first duel.
“If you are ready, gentlemen,” said Mr. Bungstarter, “we had better
proceed to business. I believe it is understood that no apology will be
offered or accepted. We may as well settle preliminaries at once, or
I fear we shall be interrupted. There is a rumor in town that the
Vigilance Committee are seeking our friends the Starbottles, and I
believe, as their fellow-countryman, I have the honor to be included in
their warrant.”
At this probability of interruption, that gravity which had hitherto
been wanting fell upon the group. The preliminaries were soon arranged
and the principals placed in position. Then there was a silence.
To a spectator from the hill, impressed with the picnic suggestion, what
might have been the popping of two champagne corks broke the stillness.
Culpepper had fired in the air. Colonel Starbottle uttered a low curse.
Jack Folinsbee sulkily demanded another shot.
Again the parties stood opposed to each other. Again the word was given,
and what seemed to be the simultaneous report of both pistols rose upon
the air. But after an interval of a few seconds all were surprised to
see Culpepper slowly raise his unexploded weapon and fire it harmlessly
above his head. Then, throwing the pistol upon the ground, he walked to
a tree and leaned silently against it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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