But it was very hard to follow. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. " So saying, he slung it upon his wrist. It's big, thanks to you. " "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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