Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 9

"I-I think I had better do it, Richard!" whispered Zenas.

"Mr. Achmet," said d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k and almost sobbed in his ear:

"Richard, Richard, why did you do it? My blood will be on your head!"

"Hush!" returned d.i.c.k. "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 d.i.c.k. "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 a.s.sist 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. d.i.c.k a.s.sured him that there was not the slightest difference.

"I selected them myself with the greatest care," a.s.serted the boy. "They are good and strong."

"And rank," muttered Buckhart softly.

"Let the major and the professor stand ten paces apart," said d.i.c.k. "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 princ.i.p.al was to stand. d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, "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," returned d.i.c.k. "If you object, I have brought these."

He produced two huge pistols.

"One," continued d.i.c.k, "is loaded. The other is not. You shall toss for choice. Then you shall stand at arm's length, place the pistols against each other's breast, and pull the triggers at the word. A moment later one of you will be a dead man, while the other will be unharmed. Does that suit you better, major?"

"It's unusual-decidedly unusual, suh! No, suh, it does not suit me at all, suh! I prefer the eggs."

"Good!" whispered Zenas. "So do I!"

"Then take your positions, gentlemen," ordered d.i.c.k.

Aziz Achmet threw up his hands, shaking his head in a baffled manner.

"Oh, these Americans, these Americans!" he muttered, retreating. "I had hoped they might destroy each other, which would save me further trouble with them. Now they are going to fight a duel with rotten eggs! Pah!"

The surgeon hastily threw his instruments into the case, which he closed and picked up, also retreating to get out of probable danger of being hit by one of those eggs.

The professor and the major got ready for action. Each picked up as many eggs as he could hold in his left hand and took one in his right.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" asked d.i.c.k, also backing off a little, an example followed by Brad.

"Ready!" answered both.

"Then-fire!"