Dick Merriwell's Pranks: or, Lively Times in the Orient. Standish Burt L.
think we had better wait a little longer,” urged Dick.
“But what’s the use. It’s morning now, and that craven from Mississippi is not on hand. I’ll warrant he is hiding beneath his bed this very minute.”
“I opine you’re mistaken, professor,” said Brad dryly. “If I ain’t a heap mistaken, here he comes now.”
“Where?” gasped Zenas.
“There,” said the Texan, motioning toward three dim figures which were entering the cemetery and approaching. “I reckon it’s Major Fitts, accompanied by two friends.”
“Oh, Lordy!” groaned the professor, growing limp and leaning on Dick’s shoulder, all the bluster taken out of him in a second.
Once more Merriwell urged the old pedagogue to brace up.
“Don’t let him see you’re afraid,” he urged. “Do stiffen up, professor!”
“Richard,” groaned Zenas, “I had a premonition that my time had come. Here, Richard, take these papers. One is my last will and testament. The other is a fond adieu to my wife. Poor Nancy! how I pity her! She’ll never see me again! Tell her how I perished, Richard. Perhaps some time – when I’m gone – you may think – of me. It is a fearful thing – to perish – in a foreign land – far from – the loved ones – at home.”
The old man choked and could speak no more.
The three persons were now quite near, and by the dim light the boys could recognize the short figure of Major Fitts. Aziz Achmet had the major by the arm and seemed talking to him earnestly in low tones. The third man carried a small hand case, and seemed like a surgeon.
Fitts and the surgeon stopped a short distance away, while Achmet advanced swiftly, with his usual soft step.
“I see you are here, gentlemen,” he said.
“We are,” returned Dick; “but we began to think you were not coming. Professor Gunn is anxious to have this affair over in order that he may take a bath before breakfast.”
“A bath!” said the Turk. “Before breakfast?”
“Yes; he always has his morning shower or sponge.”
“But he may not need one this morning.”
“I reckon he will,” muttered Buckhart, to himself. “If Fitts’ aim is any good, the professor sure will need one a heap.”
“Major Fitts,” said Achmet, “is inclined to be magnanimous.”
“Indeed?” said Dick questioningly.
“Yes; he wishes me to say that he has no real desire to slay one of his own countrymen.”
“Kind of him!”
“And, therefore, if Professor Gunn will apologize, he will overlook the insult and spare him.”
“I – I think I had better do it, Richard!” whispered Zenas.
“Mr. Achmet,” said Dick stiffly, “you will kindly inform Major Fitts that he has quite misunderstood the situation. Tell him that unless he immediately apologizes in the most humble manner Professor Gunn insists that the affair be carried through to the bitter end.”
“To the bitter end!” put in Buckhart. “That’s the stuff!”
The Turk bowed.
“Then there is nothing else to be done but to arrange the preliminaries. I will speak to the major a moment.”
As soon as Achmet’s back was turned the professor seized Dick and almost sobbed in his ear:
“Richard, Richard, why did you do it? My blood will be on your head!”
“Hush!” returned Dick. “Don’t you see the major is frightened worse than you are? Achmet has dragged him here, and he’s ready to take to his heels and run for his life.”
“Wh-what?” gasped Zenas, straightening up as if electrified. “Are you sure?”
“No question about it. Achmet is having a difficult time to hold him now.”
It was a fact that Mowbry Fitts was very much disturbed. He protested that there might be a mutual understanding through which the affair could be dropped. All the way to the cemetery he had hoped that the professor would not be there and would fail to appear. He now declared that Achmet was responsible for the whole wretched affair.
“It is a shame that two highly intelligent men, two eminently respectable citizens of a great and glorious country, should meet here, suh, in this wretched old cemetery, suh, and slaughter each other in cold blood,” he said.
Achmet shrugged his shoulders.
“I am quite surprised in you,” he declared. “I thought you a brave man. The other American is waiting and anxious. If you show the white feather now, you will be branded the rest of your life as a coward.”
At last the major seemed to brace up. He announced that he was ready for the worst.
By this time it had grown quite light outside, although there were still deep shadows in the cemetery.
Again Achmet turned to the professor and the boys.
“We are ready,” he said. “Where are the weapons?”
The surgeon was kneeling on the ground, having opened his case. He was laying out his instruments on a white cloth.
“If you are ready, we are,” said Dick. “The weapons are in these baskets. You may select either basket you choose. Let the major remove his coat in order that his arms may be free and unhampered. Professor, strip.”
Smothering a groan, Zenas permitted Brad to assist him in removing his coat. Major Fitts also took his coat off.
Achmet hesitated when invited to choose one of the baskets. He feared a trick and inquired if the weapons in one basket were identical with those in the other. Dick assured him that there was not the slightest difference.
“I selected them myself with the greatest care,” asserted the boy. “They are good and strong.”
“And rank,” muttered Buckhart softly.
“Let the major and the professor stand ten paces apart,” said Dick. “At that distance, they should be able to hit each other once in three shots, at least. Let them begin firing at the word and continue until one or the other falls, cries enough, or the ammunition is exhausted. Brad, pace the distance.”
Buckhart did so promptly, but his paces were very short. He made a mark with his heel for Zenas and another to indicate the position of the major.
In the meantime Achmet had selected one of the baskets and carried it to the point where his principal was to stand. Dick placed the other near the spot marked for the professor. Neither of the duelists knew the sort of weapons decided on, and both watched with great anxiety the uncovering of the baskets.
Taking note of Achmet’s movements, Dick removed the cloth from the professor’s basket at the same moment that the Turk lifted the covering of the other basket.
Both baskets were filled with eggs!
“Eggs?” gasped Fitts.
“Eggs?” breathed Gunn.
“Eggs-actly,” chuckled Brad Buckhart.
“Why, I – I don’t understand!” faltered the professor.
“What does this mean, gentlemen?” demanded the major. “Will yo’ kindly explain it?”
“Having the choice of weapons,” said Dick, “I decided on eggs, good and rank. Here they are. Only fools fight duels over trivial things with deadly weapons. With these eggs you cannot kill each other, but you can soak each other to your hearts’ content and thus satisfy your wounded honor.”
“But, suh, I never heard of such a thing, suh!” exploded Fitts. “It is ridiculous!”
“All right,”