lance of blue flame jump from the muzzle of Sirzob's. Both weapons
barked together, and with the double report came the whip-cracking
sound of Sirzob's bullet passing Verkan Vall's head. Then Sirzob's
face altered its appearance unpleasantly, and he pitched forward.
Verkan Vall thumbed on his safety and stood motionless, while the
servants advanced, took Sirzob's body by the heels, and dragged it
over beside Marnark's.

"All right; Honorable Yirzol, you're next," Verkan Vall called out.

"The Lord Virzal has fired one shot," one of the opposing seconds
objected, "and Honorable Yirzol has a full magazine. The Lord Virzal
should put in another magazine."

"I grant him the advantage; let's get on with it," Verkan Vall said.

Yirzol of Narva advanced to the firing point. He was not afraid of
death--none of the Akor-Neb people were; their language contained no
word to express the concept of total and final extinction--and
discarnation by gunshot was almost entirely painless. But he was
beginning to suspect that he had made a fool of himself by getting
into this affair, he had work in his present reincarnation which he
wanted to finish, and his political party would suffer loss, both of
his services and of prestige.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" Klarnood intoned ritualistically. "You
will not raise your pistols until the command to fire; you may fire at
will after it. Ready, _Fire!_"

Verkan Vall shot Yirzol of Narva through the head before the latter