"Come back here, Papa. This is growing into a joke. That swarthy dog doesn't want to fight. Hurry or they'll be swimming back to the city," called out Lander.
"My man will fight at fifteen paces," snarled Tilton.
"Very well. It is most excellent to find he will fight at all," said Papa Clair. "If one stands where M'sieu Tilton is standing, and one here in my tracks, the light will be equal and M'sieu Tilton can place his man without tossing the coin."
"Not by a sight!" growled Tilton. Then with a vicious laugh: "This is for blood. Keep yer Frenchy perliteness to yerself. We'll toss a coin. Th' winner picks any spot in the openin' he wants to an' t'other man must face him. Hi, Dillings! Step out here an' flip a coin."
Bridger gave a low, amused laugh at the bald-faced plan to do murder. Papa Clair spat with a hissing noise and ominously objected:
"Be careful, M'sieu Tilton. Be very careful. Not M'sieu Dillings. He has the prejudice. He has said he did not believe my man wanted the fight. We do not trust him. No."
"Well, I can't toss it; neither can ye toss it;
