CHAPTER XLIV.

A COMEDY DUEL.

Both Hans and Ephraim were ghastly pale. The Dutch lad's teeth were

chattering, and the Yankee boy's knees shook beneath him. But both

tried to put on a bold front.

"Are ye ready, jintlemin?" demanded Barney Mulloy, who had been chosen

to give the word.

"Vait a moment," commanded Hans, waving his hand frantically at Barney.

"I vos goin' to gif dot feller a shance to safe his life. Uf he vants

to abologize now I vont shood him drough der heart mit a pullet."

"Hurry up this business!" blustered Ephraim, waving the big pistol.

"If ye fool around here all night it will git so thunderin' dark I

can't see ter hit ther middle button on the Dutchman's coat."

"Vos you goin' to abologize?" shouted Hans.

"Be you goin' to run away?" demanded Ephraim.

"Uf you don'd abologize, I voss a dead man," cried the Dutch lad,

threateningly.

"Ef you don't run away, you're a dead man," declared the Vermonter.

Now it happened that Sammy Smiles had brought along some stale eggs

which he had been keeping for some festive occasion, and he had given

one of them to Frank, while they had come to a perfect understanding as

to the proper manner and the right moment to use them. With the eggs

concealed in their hands, they were waiting for Barney to give the word.

"Come, come, jintlemin," called the Irish lad, sharply. "Take yer

positions, fer Oi'm goin' t' give th' worrud."

"This is your last chance to run away, Dutchy," faltered Ephraim, who

seemed to be losing confidence.

"Dis vos your lasd obbortunity to abologize, Yankee," said Hans, rather

weakly.

"Ready to foire at th' worrud," called Barney.

Hans' teeth were plainly heard to rattle together like dice.

"One!" counted Barney.

"Uf he don'd run avay, I vas reaty to hear him abologize," murmured the

Dutch lad.

"Say!" Ephraim hoarsely whispered to Sammy. "Git a rope an' tie me,

quick! Hang me ef I don't believe my legs is goin' to run the best I

kin do."

"Two!" counted Barney.

"Shimminy Gristmas! vere vas someding I can hide pehind?"

"Great thutteration! I'm a goner!"

"Three--fire!"

Both of the bold duelists turned their heads away, pointed the pistols

at something, and fired.

Bang! bang!

Frank and Sammy Smiles let the eggs fly, and the aim of both was

accurate.

Sammy's egg struck Hans behind the right ear, and spattered all over

the side of the Dutch lad's head, while Frank's egg landed on Ephraim's

neck.

"I vos a deadt man!" squawked the Dutch lad, as he went over in a heap.

"I'm shot, by gum!" squealed the Yankee, as his knees collapsed and he

measured his long length upon the ground.

"Smoke!" cried Barney Mulloy, grasping his nose with both hands. "It

smells loike ye'd both been corpuses fer a long toime!"

"By Jove!" gasped Frank. "That odor is strong enough to lift a safe!"

The other witnesses of the duel roared with laughter, but Hans was

bellowing and Ephraim was groaning so loudly that neither of them heard

the sounds of mirth.

"I can feel mein prains runnin' all ofer der side uf mein headt!"

howled Hans.

"Send for a doctor!" shrieked Ephraim. "I'm covered with blood! My

jubilee vein is cut clean in two, an' ther blood is runnin' down my

neck!"

"I vos dyin'!"

"I'll be dead in a minute!"

Sammy Smiles held fast to his nose, and made haste to bend over his

principal, whom he pretended to examine.

"Bring bandages!" he shouted. "Help me to stop him from bleeding to

death."

"It's nary a bit of use," groaned the Vermonter. "No feller ever lived

with his jubilee vein cut in two!"

"Merciful goodness!" cried Frank, in pretended horror, as he hovered

over Hans, also taking care to cling to his nose. "The whole top of

his head is shot away!"

The Dutch boy gave a wild, despairing wail.

"Und you said dot feller vos goin' to run avay! Dunder und blitsens!

I vos a fool dot I don'd run avay meinseluf pefore mein prains he shot

oudt!"

"Never mind," said Frank. "You will die like a hero, and we'll bury

you with all the honors of war."

"Yah!" snorted Hans. "Dot vos nice--I don'd pelieve! I don'd care

apout dot honors uf var! Oh, Shimminy Gristmas! vot a fool a blamed

fool vos!"

"I am surprised at you," said Frank, sternly. "You should be proud to

perish in such a heroic manner."

"Oh, yaw! I peen tickled to death--mit a pullet. Id vos fun!"

"I am afraid you are not a success as a hero."

"Vell, I dudder peen a success as a coward und kept avay from dot

pullet."

In the meantime Ephraim had recovered from the shock sufficiently to

detect the powerful odor of the stale egg that had struck him.

"Great gum!" he gurgled. "What was that Dutchman's pistol loaded with?

Something must have crawled inter ther pesky thing an' died there!"

"Do you really smell anything?" chuckled Sammy Smiles.

"Do I?" howled the Yankee boy, sitting up and gasping for breath. "I

ruther think I do, by gum!"

"You must be mistaken. Being seriously wounded, you imagine it. It is

the result of your injury."

"Is that so? Wal," he wildly panted, "if that's ther case, I hope I'll

die soon an' git aout of my misery!"

The spectators were convulsed with merriment, and Ephraim began to

smell a rat--if, indeed, it were possible to smell anything but the

ancient eggs.

"Say!" he snorted, "you fellers don't act like there was anybody dyin'

around here. An' by chaowder! this smell is jest ther same ez I struck

when I crawled under dad's old barn to find where the speckled hen was

layin', an' crunched up some aigs that hed bin there two or three

months. Ef that Dutchman loaded his pistol with a ripe aig an' shot me

in the neck, I'll paound the stuffin' aout of him, by gum!"

"Vot vos dot?" roared Hans, also sitting up, and glaring at the

Vermonter. "You don'd peen pig enough to bound der sduffin oudt uf

nottings!"

"Wal, dern my skin ef I don't show you! Ef I'm mortally shot, it'll be

some satisfaction to die thumpin' you, by gum!"

"Keeb avay off!" squawked Hans, as Ephraim began to crawl toward him.

"Keeb avay off, ur I vos goin' to bulverize you britty queek right avay

soon!"

"You pulverize, an' be hanged! All I want is to git holt of ye."

Hans began to scramble out of the way.

"Holt on! holt on!" he cried. "Dot don'd peen no fair to sdrike a man

mit haluf uf his heat plown off!"

"Your head's all right, only one side of it is plastered over with some

yaller stuff. You shot me in the neck, and I'm all kivered with blood,

but I kin do ye, jest ther same!"

"Dot vos der gweerest colored plood vot I nefer saw! You don'd peen

shot ad all."

"Then, by gum! I'm goin' ter lick ye anyhaow!" and Ephraim scrambled

to his feet.

"Vell, you don'd done dot till you catch me, py Shimminy!"

Hans also scrambled up, and immediately took to his heels, with the

tall Yankee in hot pursuit, leaving the spectators of this ridiculous

duel to exhaust themselves with merriment.

Frank Merriwell's Chums · 第 44 / 48 章