I have just done you the honor of challenging you to a duel." Mr.Wharton's mouth opened as if he were about to explode in a roar of incredulous laughter.

But meeting Cleggett's eyes, which were, indeed, sparkling with a most remarkable light, his jaw dropped, and he turned slightly pale.

He rose from his chair and put the desk between himself and Cleggett, picking up as he did so a long pair of shears.
"Put down the scissors," said Cleggett, with a wave of his hand.

"I do not propose to attack you now." And he turned and left the managing editor's little office, closing the door behind him.
The managing editor tiptoed over to the door and, with the scissors still grasped in one hand, opened it about a quarter of an inch.
Through this crack Wharton saw Cleggett walk jauntily towards the corner where his hat and coat were hanging.

Cleggett took off his worn office jacket, rolled it into a ball, and flung it into a waste paper basket.