"What good would it do you to destroy me? For I have courage to kill myself. " "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. McClintock would be on hand to tell her how and where to obtain this freedom. ‘It is of no use to try to stop me.
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