“Yes, he said them very words, Nelson, although he knowed I was on hand that day when he paid off his bill in full. I couldn't chip in thar before his wife, an' the Lord knows I couldn't tell him I had an idea what was in the note, so I rid on as fast as I could. I had a turn o' meal under me, an' I tuck it off an' hid it in the thicket t'other side o' Duncan's big spring. I wasn't goin' to carry a secret war-message a-straddle o' two bushels o' meal warm from the mill-rocks. An' I'd bet my hat that sheet o' paper hain't no flag o' truce.” Floyd read the note. There was scarcely a change in the expression of his face or a flicker of his eyelashes as he folded it with steady fingers and held it in his hand. “Yes, he says he has got the whole story, Pole,” Floyd said. “He gives me fair warning as a man of honor to arm myself. He will be here at twelve o'clock to the minute.” “Great God!” Pole ejaculated. “You hain't one chance in a million to escape with yore life. You seed how he shot t'other day. He was excited then--he was as ca'm as a rock mountain when I seed him awhile ago, an' his ride to town will steady 'im more. He sorter drawed down his mouth at one corner an' cocked up his eye, same as to say, 'You understand; thar hain't no use in upsettin' women folks over a necessary matter o' this sort.' Looky' here, Nelson, old pard, some'n has got to be done, an' it's got to be done in a damn big hurry.” “It will have to be done at twelve 'clock, anyway,” Floyd said, calmly, a grim smile almost rising to his face. “That's the hour he's appointed.” “Do you mean to tell me you are a-goin' to set here like a knot on a log an' 'low that keen-eyed mountain sharp-shooter to step up in that door an' pin you to that stool?” “No, I don't mean that, exactly, Pole,” Floyd smiled, coldly. “A man ought not to insult even his antagonist that way. You see, that would be making the offended party liable for wilful, coldblooded murder before the law. No, I've got my gun here in the drawer, and we'll make a pretence at fighting a duel, even if he downs me in the first round.” “You are a fool, that's what you are!” Pole was angry, without knowing why. “Do you mean to tell me you are a-goin' to put yore life up like that to gratify a man o' Jeff Wade's stamp?” “He's got his rights, Pole, and I intend to respect them,” Floyd responded with firmness. “I've hurt his family pride, and I'd deserve to be kicked off the face of the earth if I turned tail and ran. He seems to think I may light out; I judge that by his setting the time a couple of hours ahead, but I'll give him satisfaction. I'm built that way, Pole. There is no use arguing about it.” The farmer stepped forward and laid a heavy-hand on Floyd's shoulder, and stared at him from beneath his lowering brows. “You know, as well as I do, that you wasn't the only man that--that dabbled in that dirty business,” he said, sharply, “an' it's derned foolish fer you to--”