“Why are we waiting, sir?” he demanded, his tone cold and formal. “Something has occurred to detain Price,” answered Mahaffy. The colonel and Ware exchanged looks. Again they spoke together, while Mahaffy watched the road. Ten minutes slipped by in this manner, and once more Fentress addressed Mahaffy. “Do you know what could have detained him?” he inquired, the ghost of a smile curling his thin lips. “I don't,” said Mahaffy, and relapsed into a moody and anxious silence. He held dueling in very proper abhorrence, and only his feeling of intense but never-declared loyalty to his friend had brought him there. Another interval of waiting succeeded. “I have about reached the end of my patience; I shall wait just ten minutes longer,” said Fentress, and drew out his watch. “Something has happened--” began Mahaffy. “I have kept my engagement; he should have kept his,” Fentress continued, addressing Ware. “I am sorry to have brought you here for nothing, Tom.” “Wait!” said Mahaffy, planting himself squarely before Fentress. “I consider this comic episode at an end,” and Fentress pocketed his watch. “Scarcely!” rejoined Mahaffy. His long arm shot out and the open palm of his hand descended on the colonel's face. “I am here for my friend,” he said grimly. The colonel's face paled and colored by turns. “Have you a weapon?” he asked, when he could command his voice. Mahaffy exhibited the pistol he had carried to Belle Plain the day before. “Step off the ground, Tom.” Fentress spoke quietly. When Ware had done as he requested, the colonel spoke again. “You are my witness that I was the victim of an unprovoked attack.” Mr. Ware accepted this statement with equanimity, not to say indifference. “Are you ready?” he asked; he glanced at Mahaffy, who by a slight inclination of the head signified that he was. “I reckon you're a green hand at this sort of thing?” commented Tom evilly. “Yes,” said Mahaffy tersely. “Well, listen: I shall count, one, two, three; at the word three you will fire. Now take your positions.” Mahaffy and the colonel stood facing each other, a distance of twelve paces separating them. Mahaffy was pale but dogged, he eyed Fentress unflinchingly. Quick on the word Fentress fired, an instant later Mahaffy's pistol exploded; apparently neither bullet had taken effect, the two men maintained the rigid attitude they had assumed; then Mahaffy was seen to turn on his heels, next his arm dropped to his side and the pistol slipped from his fingers, a look of astonishment passed over his face and left it vacant and staring while his right hand stole up toward his heart; he raised it slowly, with difficulty, as though it were held down by some invisible weight.