I fought a duel in Colorado with a man who had insulted her.

The law didn't run there in those days; and three of his hired gunmen, as they called them, held us up that night in the train and gave her the alternative of going back with them and kissing him or seeing me dead at her feet.

I didn't give her time to answer, nor for them to finish.

It seemed a fine death anyhow, that.

And I'd have faced Hell itself for the chance of fighting for her.