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Show The Fiction A MISUNDERSTANDING Corner under the count's nose. "Those!" said the amazed count. "Yeah," said Joe, "and on your honor as a gentleman you can't refuse. re-fuse. Also, why wait till dawn?" WHAT followed was pitiful. We trooped into the back yard. Joe and the count took off their coats and squared off. Grinning, Joe stepped in and delivered a quick one-two on the nobleman's chin. Blood appeared on his mouth. He swung wildly. Joe set him back on his heels. The count came in again and Joe knocked him down. He got up and came back for more. "Listen, old ' horse," he said, "you're as dumb about the customs back in America as I am about them over here. Only I didn't have the guts to fight you your own way and you, well, by gosh, there are danged few Americans can take it the way you have. And right here and now I rise to remark you have-my have-my apology, and I'll tell that dame-so, dame-so, too, if you'll tell me where sh lives." Well, the count only caught j on to about one-third of what Joe meant and grinned and offered of-fered his hand. Ten minutes later the three of us were sitting around a fire in, Kandace's living room, laughing and talking and drinking punch and telling each other that it waa too bad there wasn't a perfect understanding un-derstanding about customs of different dif-ferent countries, and agreed that if such were the case every one-would one-would be happier. i I'LL NEVER FORGET the spec-1 tacle of Joe Abbott and Count Obeid fighting. Thinking of it, I am more apt to shudder than smile. Though certainly had amusing aspects. , You see, Joe " I is an American. 3- Minilte And he wasn't r;.,; used to the way , F'Ctl0n 1 they did things in Luandia. Anyway, when Joe and I stopped off at Cabindas on our world cruise, we were much pleased with the place. That night we had dinner at the Plaza and it was there that we first saw Kandace. She was sitting alone in a booth, and when she caught Joe staring at her boldly, she nodded and smiled at him. Instinctively I knew, when I saw the tall dark man come through the door, that Joe was in for trouble. trou-ble. And I was right. The tall dark man strode toward the booth and there was something about him that caused my blood to creep. I stood up, but was by no means quick enough. The stranger had grasped Joe by the coat front, jerked him to his feet and slapped his face. After a while a messenger came in and handed me a note. I read it and looked sourly at Joe. "Now you've done it. That was Count Obeid and that was his girl you insulted." in-sulted." "Insulted?" said Joe. "And he wants to fight a duel with you. He realizes our boat sails first thing in the morning, so in order to accommodate us he'll await our pleasure at dawn. He will do you the honor of permitting you to choose your own weapons." Joe shook his head and tried to grasp it. "That punk the dope who smacked my jaw wants to fight a duel? You mean like they do in Sabatini's books?" "And I can choose my own weapons," Joe went on. He stood up. "Come on." I followed him, not quite daring to use force in stopping him again, yet ready for any emergency. We went back to the Plaza. The count and his girl were, of course, gone. Joe made inquiries, wrote down an address and beckoned me to follow. fol-low. A taxi deposited us before a pretentious looking house of white adobe. A servant admitted us and presently Count Obeid appeared. "You're giving me the honor of choosing my own weapons," said Joe. "I'll take these," and he knotted knot-ted up his fists and held them , |