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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Arms and the Woman"

Nothing but a mishap on my opponent's part, and that early in
the combat, would save my epidermis. The absurd side of the affair
struck me, and I laughed, mirthlessly, but none the less I laughed. If
it had been pistols the chances would have been equal. A German does
not like pistols as a dueling apparatus. They often miss fire. A
sword is a surer weapon. And then, the French use them--the
pistols--in their fiascoes. Rapiers? I was as familiar with the
rapier as I was with the Zulu assegai. I unstrapped my traveling case
and took out Phyllis's photograph. I put it back. If I was to have a
last look at any woman it should be at Gretchen. Then I got out my
cane and practiced thrusting and parrying. My wrist was strong.
"Well," I mused, "there's consolation in knowing that in two hours I
shall be either dead or alive."
I flung the cane into the corner. To pass away the time I paced back
and forth. It passed too quickly; and it was not long ere I heard the
clatter of the returning cavalrymen. Some one knocked at my door. I
swung it open and--was thrown to the floor, bound and gagged in a tenth
of a minute.


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