Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days/Chapter 22
CHAPTER XXII
THE CHALLENGE
When Dick secured another ice, and took it to Miss Hanford, he found her sitting in a quiet corner. She was rather pale, and did not seem to care much for the ice which he had had such trouble in securing.
"I'm not quite so warm now," she said, in explanation. "It was very kind of you to get this for me. Do you—do you think Captain Dutton will be very angry at you?" She seemed anxious.
"I don't see why he should be," replied Dick. "It was an accident. I could not help tripping."
"After you went back the second time, he talked loudly about you having done it on purpose, and he said he was going to demand satisfaction," went on the girl. "Will he?"
"Well, he can demand it, I suppose," said Dick slowly, "but I don't know what I can do, except to say I'm sorry, and offer to pay for his coat."
"Do you—do you think he will do anything—anything desperate?" asked Miss Hanford, and she looked at Dick sharply.
"Of course not," he replied. "But if we are going to dance, would you mind if we began now? I think this is my two-step."
She arose, and they went whirling about the room. But she was strangely quiet. Dick's enjoyment of the dance was not a bit lessened by seeing Dutton once more scowling at him from behind a draped pillar. The cadet captain had doffed his gray coat, and wore one belonging to his uniform. It formed a strange contrast to his otherwise Colonial costume. When the dance was over Dick saw him beckoning, and, excusing himself from his fair partner, he walked to where Dutton stood.
"You wished to speak to me?" asked Dick.
"Yes. Come outside."
"What for?"
"I wish to speak to you."
"Won't it do in here?"
"No!" snapped Dutton.
Dick hesitated a moment, and, not wishing to quarrel with the captain in the ballroom, he followed him out on a veranda.
"What do you mean by insulting me, and making me ridiculous?" demanded Dutton fiercely.
"Insulting you?" repeated Dick.
"That's what I said. You refused to come back when I called you. I'm your superior officer."
"Not on an occasion like this!" exclaimed Dick, and he drew himself up, and looked Dutton straight in the eyes. "We are all equal here to-night, Captain Dutton. I take no orders from you!"
"We'll see about that. Why did you deliberately spill that ice over me? You wanted to make me the laughing stock of everyone in the room!"
"I did not. You have no right to say that. It was an accident, pure and simple, and I have already apologized to you for it."
"That is not enough. No one can insult me with impunity. I demand satisfaction!"
"I don't see what satisfaction I can give you—unless I buy you a new coat. I that is what you what you want I will be happy to send you a check for whatever amount"
"Hold on, Hamilton!" cried Dutton hoarsely. "This is going too far! You're getting mighty fresh. I suppose because you are a millionaire you think your money will do anything. But I tell you it won't. You can't buy a gentleman with money, nor make one either. You come here with a lot of millions behind you, and you think all you need to do is to insult a gentleman, and then offer to pay for it. I tell you I'll not stand it. You did that on purpose and"
"I have already told you that I did not."
"And I say you did."
There was no mistaking Dutton's meaning. Dick took a step forward. His face was slightly pale.
"That will do!" he said sternly. "Are you aware that you have practically accused me of telling an untruth?"
"That's what I meant to do," answered Button fiercely. "You're a cad—a sneak—you threw that ice at me on purpose!"
"If you say that again," exclaimed Dick, "I'll"
"Well, what will you do?" sneered Button.
"I think I shall have to buy you two coats," spoke Dick calmly, for he saw that Dutton was losing control of his temper, and the young millionaire wanted to end the affair.
"Don't you give me any of your fresh talk!" cried the captain.
"I shall say what I please on an occasion like this," responded Dick. "I have that privilege."
"You have, eh? Then look out for yourself!"
Dutton fairly leaped forward, and endeavored to strike Dick, but the young millionaire was too quick for him, and stepped to one side, at the same time involuntarily shooting out his fist, which caught the bully in the side. Dutton stopped short.
"I suppose you know what striking a gentleman means," he said slowly.
"I do when I hit one. I haven't struck any gentleman to-night," said Dick coolly.
"You're adding insult to it. You've got to give me satisfaction for this!"
"I suppose so. You recall how it turned out last time."
"This time will be different. You won't get off so easily."
"Have your own way about it. I guess Paul Drew will be my second again, but I should think you'd had enough of fighting."
"Not with you! I'll never be satisfied until I've beaten you!"
"Then you'll wait a long time."
The two had talked in rather low but tense tones, and they were not aware that they were directly beneath a window that had been opened to let in the fresh air. Nor did they see the frightened face of a girl at the casement.
"Will after the ball suit you?" asked Dutton, as he turned aside.
"Any time."
Dick remained in the cool winter air a little longer, filling his lungs with the oxygen, and when he returned to the ballroom he saw no sign of Dutton. Nor did he see Miss Hanford, though he looked for her, as he had another dance coming.
Supper was served soon after this, and Dick had no sooner risen from the table than Paul Drew signalled him to step one side.
"Dutton has sent a challenge to you by Stiver," he said.
"I expected it."
"Yes, but what do you think he wants?"
"What?"
"To fight with swords."
"Swords?"
"Yes. Like the students do in German schools. Heads and body protected so you can't either be more than scratched. I think it's silly, but of course I said I'd tell you."
"That's right. Swords, eh? Well, with football helmets on, and a baseball chest protector, and heavy gloves, I guess it won't be dangerous. But what's the use of fighting if some one doesn't get hurt? I prefer my fists."
"Dutton's idea seems to be for you both to be rigged out as we are when we practice with broadswords on horses," said Paul, referring to one of the drills taught at the school.
"Well, I don't like to object," said Dick, "but it strikes me that as the challenged party, I have the choice of weapons."
"So you have. I forgot that. Then you don't want swords?"
"I'll tell you later. You can inform Dutton I'll fight him when and where he pleases, and that, as it's my right, I'll name the weapons when we meet."
"All right. Give him a good lesson, Dick."
Paul went off to carry the message, and Dick, seeing Miss Hanford, went up to her for the waltz. She gave him a place made vacant by the inability of her partner to claim her, as he was on the supper committee. Dick thought the girl seemed nervous and alarmed, but he did not speak of it.
The dance lasted until two o'clock in the morning, and then the guests began leaving. Dick was somewhat surprised to see Miss Hanford in apparently earnest conversation with grizzled Major Webster, but he concluded that she was only telling him what a good time she had had.
"Won't you call and see me sometime?" she asked Dick, as she bade him good-night.
"I will be pleased to," he said.
"And don't—don't have any quarrel with Captain Dutton," she said, with a little smile.
"Er—oh, no, I—I—er—I won't," was all Dick could stammer. He resolved that he would have no more quarrels, but it was too late to stop this one.
As the last of the guests were leaving, Paul sought out his roommate.
"The clump of trees, down by the lagoon," he whispered. "In an hour. What about weapons? Dutton wants to know."
"He'll have to wait. I'll bring them with me. It's my privilege."
A little later Dick went to his room, where he was busy for some time. When he emerged he was accompanied by Paul. He wore his long cape overcoat, and something bulged beneath it.
"I guess he'll be surprised," commented Paul.
The clump of trees, which Dutton had selected as the place for the duel, was located on a little point of land that jutted out into the lake, and near a small lagoon. It was some distance from the academy buildings, and out of sight. The trees had kept most of the snow from the ground, and it was a sheltered place. As there was a full moon there was no need of other light.
As Dick and Paul approached the place they saw several dark figures moving about.
"They're on time," whispered Paul.
"Yes. I hope the Colonel doesn't hear of it."
As they drew nearer, Stiver stepped forward and said:
"Is your man ready. Drew?"
"All ready."
"Then we demand to know the weapons. My principal will object to pistols, as they make too much noise."
"My principal has the choice of weapons, as you know, and unless he is allowed to exercise it we must decline to fight."
Paul spoke as though it was very serious.
"I know, but, hang it all, man, we can't fight with pistols. We'd have the whole crowd down on us," objected Stiver, in some alarm.
"I'll not fight with pistols," put in Dutton, which was a wrong thing for a brave duelist to do.
"Don't be worried," replied Dick cooly. "I have not selected pistols. But we are delaying too long. I am ready."
"So are we," said Stiver, but it was observed that his voice was not very steady. He was beginning to wish he had had nothing to do with this. It seemed to be getting serious, and he, as well as Dutton, wondered what Dick could be carrying under his overcoat.
"Take your places," said Paul.
"But the weapons," insisted Stiver.
"My principal will hand one to your principal as soon as he takes his place," went on Paul. "We seconds must retire to a safe distance."
"They—they aren't rifles, are they?" asked Stiver, and this time his voice was very shaky.
"They are not rifles," said Dick, somewhat solemnly. "Come, I can't stay here all night. I want to write an account of this to Miss Hanford."
"Don't you dare!" cried Dutton.
"Hush! Take your place," said his second.
Dutton approached Dick, and held out his hand to receive his weapon. Dick unfolded his coat and extended—not a sword or gun, but a big bladder, fully blown up, and tied to a short stick. He kept a similar one for himself.
"These are my weapons," he said.
"I won't fight with those! It's an insult! I demand satisfaction!" fairly shouted Dutton.
"Hush!" cried Stiver. "Someone is coming!"
But it was too late. Several figures could be seen running over the snow toward the duelists.