\"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. But all of that was forgotten. " "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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