"
"What will you do about it?" asked Oscar coolly.
"What will I do about it?"
"That is my question."
"Do you admit the charges?"
"I am too much of a gentleman to deny them: they are so gross."
"Oh, you intend to get out of it that way, eh? Now who are you?"
As Girard spoke he rose from the table and presented a pistol directly
at our hero's forehead. Oscar did not flinch, but asked:
"Do you intend to murder me?"
The detective was in the worst dilemma of his whole career. He knew the
men were playing a game, that the chances were all against him, and
that the possibilities were that under one pretext or another they
intended to kill him.
"No, I don't intend to murder you. I am no murderer, but I do not intend
to let you get away with any sneaking purpose you may have had in
working your way into this house. Are you a gentleman?"
"Yes, I am a gentleman."
"Then you shall have a chance. I challenge you; yes, sir, you must fight
me."
"This is murder," said Oscar.
Our hero believed his last moment had arrived. He had braved fate too
far in his enthusiasm. He had walked into a trap from which there was no
escape. The duel which had been proposed he knew would only be a
pretense in order to murder him. He knew he had walked right into a
trap, but he determined to die game.
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