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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Two Men of Sandy Bar; a drama"

We will place them both, so, under the
cloth of this table. You shall draw one pistol, I will take the
other. I will put that clock at ten minutes to nine, when we will
take our positions across this table; as you--er--happily express
it, "face to face." As the clock strikes the hour, we will fire on
the second stroke.
Concho (aside). It is a trick, a Yankee trick! (Aloud.) I am
ready. Now--at once!
Starbottle (gravely). Permit me, sir, to thank you. Your conduct,
sir, reminds me of singular incident--
Concho (angrily interrupting). Come, come! It is no child's play.
We have much of this talk, eh! It is action, eh, you comprehend,--
action.
STARBOTTLE places pistols under the cloth, and sets clock. CONCHO
draws pistol from cloth; STARBOTTLE takes remaining pistol. Both
men assume position, presenting their weapons; STARBOTTLE pompously
but seriously, CONCHO angrily and nervously.)
Starbottle (after a pause). One moment, a single moment--
Concho. Ah, a trick! Coward! you cannot destroy my aim.
Starbottle. I overlook the--er--epithet. I wished only to ask, if
you should be--er--unfortunate, if there was anything I could say
to your--er--friends.
Concho. You cannot make the fool of me, coward. No!
Starbottle. My object was only precautionary. Owing to the
position in which you--er--persist in holding your weapon, in a
line with my right eye, I perceive that a ray of light enters the
nipple, and--er--illuminates the barrel.


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