What a time of it Dawson's Landing was having!  All its life it had been asleep, but now it hardly got a chance for a nod, so swiftly did big events and crashing surprises come along in one another's wake: Friday morning, first glimpse of Real Nobility, also grand reception at Aunt Patsy Cooper's, also great robber raid; Friday evening, dramatic kicking of the heir of the chief citizen in presence of four hundred people; Saturday morning, emergence as practicing lawyer of the long-submerged Pudd'nhead Wilson; Saturday night, duel between chief citizen and titled stranger.  The people took more pride in the duel than in all the other events put together, perhaps.  It was a glory to their town to have such a thing happen there.  In their eyes the principals had reached the summit of human honor.  Everybody paid homage to their names; their praises were in all mouths.  Even the duelists' subordinates came in for a handsome share of the public approbation: wherefore Pudd'nhead Wilson was suddenly become a man of consequence.  When asked to run for the mayoralty Saturday night, he was risking defeat, but Sunday morning found him a made man and his success assured. 
How had the principals reached the summit of human honor?
The people saw it as an honor to have the event happen at Dawson's Landing