Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1886-03-25
AN AFFAIR OF HONOR.

| viii tell you of it, that you may
Judge.
My father was cotton-planter in
one of our southern states, and /, an
only son, was INDUCED to an unusual
degree, and was early taught the use oil
firearms. Even at ten years OF age l
was allowed to roam the woods at
will, with alight fowling- piece that had
been given me.
Often, however, had a companion
in my hunting excursions,-the son of
aneighbor of ours, who was year
older than /. He was fiery, and often
a very unreasonable youth, qualities
which he had inherited from his ia
ther; but we had never had any es-
arrangement or dispute till this OF which
| am going to write.
Eustace had always claimed to be a
better shot than was. This was
not willing to concede. In our target
practice we sometimes had Tor umpire
sister OF his, Ethel Halleck, who was
two years younger than Eustace; and
as she very frankly said she did not
accept her brothers opinion, usual
ly yielded the point without contro-
versy.
Ethel and Eustace were the only
children OF their parents, who were
our nearest neighbors, and the man.
sions in that part of the South being
somewhat widely separated, We had
very few other associates. She was q
spirited girl, and beautiful, to my eyes,
and had none of the overbearing inn
petuosity that characterized her
father and brother, being, like her
mother, gentle in manner and speech,
and always reasonable. (
The fiery temperament of the elder
Halleck had not unfrequently been the
cause OF trouble between him and the
gentlemen with whom he associated,
and he had been led by it in more
than one ''affair of honor" Eustace
frequently boosted of this, but Ethel
always deplored it, and in this fully
sympathized with her.
The last meeting of this kind took
place the summer Ethel was fifteen
years of age. l do notn fully recall
the cause of it, but it led to meeting
with rifles, at short range, in which
Halleck killed his man. shall never
forget the expression OF distress that
was on Ethels face when L next met
her. She would not have spoken of
the dreadful occurrence, but Eustace
could not forbear mentioning it.
"Of course you've heard of that last
affair of father's?" he said.
"Oh, yes," | answered.
They'll find out after awhile that
it won't do to fool with him, Ireckon."
81 should think 50" said l. "But
doesn't he feel badly at having killed
mis- antagonist"
a.
said Eustace, laughing. 81 guess he
can stand it, il the rest can. They'll
find out after awhile that his aim is
quicker than theirs, Ireckon. He'sthe
quickest man to take aim that you
ever saw" ~
80 Eustace, don't speak of it,
Don't mention it any more, i beg OF
you!" implored Ethel.
"Why, it's nothing to be ashamed
of. I'm proud that we have n father
who can defend his honorlln .
To this Ethel only replied by a
plea ling look, and pItying her distress,
| remarked, quite thoughtless of what
the effect would be-
II don't see any reason, Eustace,
for taking pride in yourfather'sk killing
not have suffered if the man had liv-
ed
"You do? OF course you do. Why
shouldn't you, when you don't know
what honor is?"
"Stop,nowl Stop, Eustace" cried
Ethel, springing forward and clasping
her arms around him.
Not when we're insulted in our own
home! No, repeat it, he don't know
what honor isl'
"And / shall have to go elsewhere to
learnt retorted, in spite of my bet
ter Judgment. 81 never saw any
honor yet iii killing man."
YOU'RE coward, or you would
not say that to US here! He's cow
ard, Ethel!'
ssI ,,,o,, he n couor1 -, x,o,,r oet; N,.,
ton, for it's nlain that our ideas of
cowardice ana honor don't agree But
/ don't believe Ethel will call me u
coward"
mo, Walter she cried. IL know
you are not, and Eustace knows it.
He knows that he might not be living
now II it weren't for you. o Eustace,
you'll he sorry for this" and the poor
girls eyes filled with tears. rsL arIa 's,,.
l had come to keep an appointment
with Eustace for an afternoons hunt,
and not wishing to prolong such a
scene, i said, turning to leaye the
house, Judging from what you say,
infer that you hardly feel in the mood
to hunt to-day, so I'll not remain
longer" .r.-.-a .arH sea
"No, sirl I'll never hunt with you
again until you have apologized for
what you have said" ..s ..ss .ssg
Then for the future / must hunt
alone, for Pm not aware that / have
said anything that needs an apology;
no more, certainly, than have you"
"You have insinuated that my fa-
Their has done something to be ashamed
of. You shall apologize for that, or
- You ought to know me by this
time"
The last words were uttered in low
ana very decided tone.
II respect your father, but l. think
he has done wrong. The man he killed
was a father, too. His children thought
as much of him as you think OF yours.
l cannot see that it's right for one
man to shoot down another because
they happen to disagree, nor do |
think need apologize for saying so"
But you shall apologize! Your
language is simply insulting. You shall
apologize, Or
"Eustace, Eustace," cried Ethel.
Are you crazy? What are You say
ing? You make me ashamed ofyoul
Walter is right, and you are wrong"
Excuse me. Unjust bid you good.
day." and | was turning away, when
Ethel sprang after me.
so Walter, forgive himl" she cried.
"Do not go yet. o Eustace, for mercy's
sake, don't part with him in snch en-
nifty as this"
She grasped my arm. and tried to
lead me back. For moment Twas
almost persuaded to say to Eustace
that was wrong, and he was right
But could not so belle my convic-
tions, and the words were unspoken.
IL might have been better had / ut