‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming.
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