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There
was
an
imperturbable
coolness
about
the
action
,
scarce
compatible
with
the
idea
of
cowardice
;
and
those
who
had
doubted
him
perceived
that
they
had
made
a
mistake
,
and
that
there
was
something
to
come
.
In
silence
they
awaited
the
development
.
They
had
not
long
to
wait
.
The
whole
affair
--
speculations
and
whisperings
included
--
did
not
occupy
twenty
seconds
of
time
;
and
then
did
the
action
proceed
,
or
the
speech
which
was
likely
to
usher
it
in
.
"
I
am
an
Irishman
,
"
said
the
mustanger
,
as
he
returned
his
handkerchief
to
the
place
from
which
he
had
taken
it
.
Simple
as
the
rejoinder
may
have
appeared
,
and
long
delayed
as
it
had
been
,
there
was
no
one
present
who
mistook
its
meaning
.
If
the
hunter
of
wild
horses
had
tweaked
the
nose
of
Cassius
Calhoun
,
it
would
not
have
added
emphasis
to
that
acceptance
of
his
challenge
.
Its
simplicity
but
proclaimed
the
serious
determination
of
the
acceptor
.
"
You
?
"
scornfully
retorted
Calhoun
,
turning
round
,
and
standing
with
his
arms
akimbo
.
"
You
?
"
he
continued
,
with
his
eye
measuring
the
mustanger
from
head
to
foot
,
"
you
an
Irishman
?
Great
God
,
sir
,
I
should
never
have
thought
so
!
I
should
have
taken
you
for
a
Mexican
,
judging
by
your
rig
,
and
the
elaborate
stitching
of
your
shirt
"
"
I
ca
n't
perceive
how
my
rig
should
concern
you
,
Mr
Cassius
Calhoun
;
and
as
you
've
done
my
shirt
no
service
by
spilling
half
my
liquor
upon
it
,
I
shall
take
the
liberty
of
unstarching
yours
in
a
similar
fashion
.
"
So
saying
,
the
mustanger
took
up
his
glass
;
and
,
before
the
ex-captain
of
volunteers
could
duck
his
head
,
or
get
out
of
the
way
,
the
remains
of
the
mixed
Monongahela
were
"
swilled
"
into
his
face
,
sending
him
off
into
a
fit
of
alternate
sneezing
and
coughing
that
appeared
to
afford
satisfaction
to
more
than
a
majority
of
the
bystanders
.
The
murmur
of
approbation
was
soon
suppressed
.
The
circumstances
were
not
such
as
to
call
for
speech
;
and
the
exclamations
that
accompanied
the
act
were
succeeded
by
a
hush
of
silence
.
All
saw
that
the
quarrel
could
not
be
otherwise
than
a
serious
one
.
The
affair
must
end
in
a
fight
.
No
power
on
earth
could
prevent
it
from
coming
to
that
conclusion
.
On
receiving
the
alcoholic
douche
,
Calhoun
had
clutched
his
six-shooter
,
and
drawn
it
from
its
holster
.
He
only
waited
to
get
the
whisky
out
of
his
eyes
before
advancing
upon
his
adversary
.
The
mustanger
,
anticipating
this
action
,
had
armed
himself
with
a
similar
weapon
,
and
stood
ready
to
return
the
fire
of
his
antagonist
--
shot
for
shot
.
