“Well?”

“I have nothing to apologize for; therefore I am afraid it means a duel.”

“Not if I can prevent it,” exclaimed Chester, jumping to his feet.

“But you can’t,” replied Hal grimly.  “And you had better lie down again.  You are liable to strain your wound.”

“Oh, I am not worrying about the wound,” exclaimed Chester.  “The doctor said there was no danger.  It’s you I am worrying about.  Why, you are likely to be killed.”

“Oh, I guess I can give a good account of myself,” returned Hal.  “I’ve been pretty fortunate thus far.  I don’t figure I am going to fall before any Frenchman’s sword or pistol.  I’ll probably be saved for a German bullet some of these days.”

Chester became silent.  He knew that an argument was useless.  Besides, he knew that in Hal’s position his own actions would be the same.

It was shortly after 6 o’clock that evening when two French officers made their way to the quarters to which the boys had been assigned.

“Choose swords,” said Hal laconically, as Chester rose to greet the callers.

“Mr. Paine,” queried one of the Frenchmen politely.

“No,” replied Chester; “but I shall act for him.”

“Good,” returned the Frenchman.  “I am Lieutenant Mercer, and this,” indicating his companion, “is Lieutenant Lamont.”

“I am Chester Crawford,” said the lad briefly.

“Then, to get down to business,” said Lieutenant Mercer.  “Mr. Paine has insulted my friend, Lieutenant Dupree.  My friend demands an apology.”

“There’ll be no apology,” said Chester shortly.

“Ah!  In that case my friend, Lieutenant Dupree, demands satisfaction from Mr. Paine.”

“It seems to me he has had satisfaction,” said Chester.

“Ah!” replied the Frenchman cheerfully.  “You no doubt refer to the blow passed by Mr. Paine?  It is for that my friend demands satisfaction.”

“He had that coming to him,” declared Chester.

“So you may believe.  Lieutenant Dupree thinks otherwise.  Now, as to the arrangements—­”

“Look here,” said Chester, interrupting.  “With the whole German army lined up in front of us, it seems to me that our friend should be able to find all the fighting he wants.  This fighting among ourselves is all nonsense.”

“But my friend’s honor—­” began the Frenchman.

“Bosh!” declared Chester.  “It wasn’t your friend’s honor that was hurt.  It was his face.”

“Then am I to understand that your friend refuses to fight?”

“No!” shouted Chester.  “He doesn’t refuse to fight.  He just doesn’t see the necessity of fighting.  That’s all.  But if you insist, he will give your friend all the satisfaction he wants.”

“I must insist,” replied Lieutenant Mercer.

“All right, then,” said Chester.  “I am not familiar with dueling etiquette, but as the challenged party I believe the choice of weapons lies with us.”