Fort MacPherson was passed at eight in the morning; they had still three hundred and fifty-seven miles to go to Omaha. At nine o'clock the train stopped at North Platte, a town built between the two arms of the river. The hundred-and-first meridian was now passed. Mr. Fogg and his partner had resumed their whist; none of them, not even the dummy, complained of the length of the journey. Fix had at first won several guineas which he now seemed about to lose, but he was not a less passionate player than Fogg. Fortune distinctly favoured that gentleman, and showered trumps and honours upon him. On one occasion he was on the point of playing a spade, when a voice behind him said, "I should play a diamond." The players all looked up, and beheld Colonel Proctor. He and Fogg recognised each other at the same moment. "Oh, you are that Britisher, are you?" exclaimed the Colonel. "So you are going to play a spade?" "Yes, and I play it too," replied Fogg coldly, as he threw down the ten. "Well, I choose to have diamonds," said Proctor insolently. He made a movement as if to seize the card just played, adding, "You know nothing about whist." "Perhaps I do, as well as other people," said Fogg, rising. "You have only got to try, you son of a John Bull," said the stout man. Mrs. Aouda now turned very pale; she seized Fogg by the arm, and pulled him back. Passe-partout was quite ready to throw himself upon the American, who continued to regard his adversary with an insolent stare, but Fix rose and said, "You forget that this is my business, sir; I was not only insulted, but struck." "Mr. Fix, excuse me," said Fogg; "this is entirely my business. By pretending that I did not know how to play, the Colonel has insulted me, and shall give me satisfaction." "When and where you please," said the American; "name your weapons." Aouda tried to keep Mr. Fogg back; the detective also tried to make the quarrel his own; Passe-partout wanted to throw the Colonel out of the window, but a sign from his master checked him. Mr. Fogg left the car, and the American followed him to the platform. "Sir," said Fogg, "I am in a great hurry to return to Europe; any delay will be very prejudicial to my interest." "What is all that to me?" said the Colonel. "Sir," continued Fogg, very politely, "after our dispute at San Francisco, I had promised myself to return to America and find you out, when I had finished my business in England." "Really!" "Will you meet me six months hence?" "Why don't you say six years?" "I said six months," said Fogg, "and I shall not fail to be at the rendezvous." "This is all humbug," cried Proctor; "it must be now or never." "Very well," said Mr. Fogg; "are you going to New York?" "No." "To Chicago?" "No." "To Omaha?" "It can't matter to you. Do you know Plum Creek?" "No," replied Mr. Fogg. "It is the next station. We shall stop there ten minutes; we shall have lots of time to exchange shots."