" "Do you mock me?" cried Jack, levelling a pistol at him. He'll be brought out at this door, and may probably make some resistance. " "I don't know," said McClintock. He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can. They would be partners only in loneliness. " "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. There! You are trying to take your hand away. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris.
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