Later in the day Tidman dressed to perfection, walked up the town twirling his stick, and beaming on every pretty woman he came across. The stout old boy was not at all appalled by the threat of Miss Pewsey regarding her buccaneering nephew's attentions. When he saw the gentleman in question bearing down on him, he simply stopped and grasped his stick more firmly. If there was to be a fight, the Major resolved to have the first blow. But Burgh did not seem ready to make a dash. He sauntered up to Tidman and looked at him smilingly, "Well met old pard," said he in his slangy fashion. "My name to you, is Major Tidman," said the old fellow coolly. "I guess I know that much. Can't we go a stretch along the lower part of the town?" "If there's any row to come off," said the Major, keeping a wary eye on the young man. "I prefer it to take place here. On guard sir--on guard." Clarence shrugged his shoulders and produced a cigarette. "Oh that's all right," said he striking a match. "I guess my old aunt's been at you. I'm not going in for any row--not me." "Just as well for you," said the Major sharply, "how dare you threaten me, you--you--" "Now I ask you," said Clarence, "if I have threatened you? Go slow. I guess the old girl's been piling on the agony. She's got old Forge to fight her battles. When I make trouble," added Clarence musingly, "it will be for a pretty girl like Olivia." "You can have your desire for a row by telling that to young Ainsleigh." "Huh," said Burgh with contempt, "I guess I'd lay him out pretty smart. I tell you, Major, I'm dead gone on that girl: but she treats me like a lump of mud." "And quite right too," said Tidman coolly, "you aren't worthy of her. Now Ainsleigh is." Clarence pitched away his cigarette with an irritable gesture. "Don't get me riz," said he darkly, "or I'll make the hair fly with Ainsleigh." "Pooh. He's quite able to look after himself." "Can he shoot?" demanded the buccaneer. "Yes. And use his fists, and fence, and lay you out properly. Confound you, sir, don't you think I've travelled also. I've been in the Naked Lands in my time, and have seen your sort growing on the banana plants. You're the sort to get lynched." "Oh, tie it up," said Burgh with sudden anger, for these remarks were not to his mind. "I want to tell you about the fan." "Why do you want to talk of that?" asked Tidman with suspicion, "I don't care a straw for the fan." "Oh, I reckon you do, Major. But you're well out of it. If you'd kept that fan there would have been trouble--yes, you may look, but if you'd held on to that article you'd have been a corpse by now." Tidman sneered, not at all terrified by these vague threats. "What do you mean by this drivel?" "Let's come to anchor here," said Clarence pulling up beside a seat in a secluded part, near the old town beach. "I'll spin the yarn."