"Very well," said Ashby; "but you had better toss this time, as I did it last time." To this Harry made no objection. He took the button, and tossed it. This time luck was favorable, and he won the choice of positions. "Well," said he, "I'm quite indifferent; but, as I have the choice, I suppose I may as well choose the place out there in the room. In that case you will stand here in front of the fireplace." "Very well," said Ashby, who thereupon took up his place there. "Have you any plan to propose as to firing?" "None whatever." "I've been thinking of one which I will mention. You may have a better one. The unarmed one shall give the word, or drop a handkerchief. Will that do? If you prefer for the one who fires to give the word--very well. Only I think that the word had better be given." "Certainly," said Ashby, "and I quite agree to your proposal." "Very well," said Harry; "and now, Mr. Ashby, here is the pistol." Saying this, he handed the weapon to Ashby, who took it with a slight bow, but in silence. Harry now measured off twelve paces once more, and reached the spot which he had before marked out, upon which he turned and, standing erect, faced Ashby. "Mr. Ashby," said he, "are you ready? If so, take aim, and I will give the word." Ashby raised the pistol and took aim. The weapon covered Harry, and he knew it. He knew also that Ashby was a "dead shot." But not a nerve quivered. He stood up there as straight as a ramrod, and then, in a calm, clear voice, with his usual self-possession, said: "One; two; three. _Fire_!" [Illustration: "Whoroo, Lads! This Bates The Worruld, So It Does."] For a moment Ashby stood with his pistol thus covering Harry. Then his arm fell. "I cannot," said he--"I cannot fire, in cold blood, on an unarmed man." Now, had Ashby stood thus, with a pistol, in the full heat of his first fury, he would have tired, without stopping to think; but the effect of their enforced courtesy to one another, and more particularly of the somewhat tedious preliminaries, had been to calm and even chill his hot anger, and to subdue all his fierce excitement. As he stood there, with his pistol levelled, and saw Harry's cool, calm face, it seemed like butchery. He could not fire. And so his hand dropped down with this exclamation. "But my turn is to come." "Oh, that's nothing," said Ashby. "You may have your turn now, if you choose." "Oh no," said Harry, "I can't take my turn until after you have fired; and the worst of it is, I don't see how we can settle this difficulty, if we don't do it now." "Other chances will, no doubt, occur," said Ashby.