a) building a contained, orderly cabin from the planks of an open, malformed shack,
b) building a ramshackle, malformed shack from the planks of a contained, orderly cabin, or
c) building two structures - one contained and orderly, the other ramshackle and malformed - to stand side-by-side.
(Though, in fact, as the reader knows, the answer is a).)
Flashback to previous day, post-duel:
Directly after the bullet ricocheted off the cuttlefish-adorned facade of the brass panel of the Compasssmith's South Pointing Marmot, affixed to the Con Artist's chest for means of protection against bullets, two noises were heard.
Noise heard upon ricochet:
PING!
Second noise: death groan of Concierge:
Aauuaghhghhhhhhh.....
A bit later, in an attempt to replace the panel, the Con Artist finds that it doesn't snap back into place as it did so easily the previous day. Instead, because of the large dent in the cuttlefish's head, one side of the panel sticks out noticeably.
Return to the moment of the entry of the Conductor of Trains:
What in hot hell is this? the Conductor of Trains asks. He looks down at the South Pointing Marmot.
The Con Artist plays amazement. You haven't heard of the Dueling Clock? he cries.
The Conductor of Trains mumbles.
Oh, says the Con Artist, surely you have. No self-respecting, high-class duelist would ever duel without one.
The Dueling Clock?
The Dueling Clock!
The Conductor of Train nods slightly. Hm, yes, he murmurs, I think I have read about this....
Of course you've read about it, reassures the Con Artist. It's the device that ended the fashion of seconds. Why have seconds - why have a judge - when you have the Dueling Clock? When the bell rings once, the marmot turns, and when the marmot turns twice - a bell at each twelve - on the second twelve - pop! Both pistols off.
The Dueling Clock.
The Dueling Clock!
Huh, says the Conductor of Trains. I never thought it'd be this small, I suppose.
Small but priceless. Even if it is slightly damaged.
The Conductor of Trains looks at the hole in the side. He shakes his head in pity. Well, he says, I suppose it's bound to happen every so often.
You've got that right, smiles the Con Artist. He waves his hands over the pistols. Shall we? he asks.
They raise their guns. The Conductor (Trains) keeps his eyes welded to the Dueling Clock. A gun goes off.
