Being well fed and the adored of his mistress, Amomma had naturally swallowed
two loaded pin-fire cartridges. Maisie hurried up to assure herself that Dick
had not miscounted the tale.
"Yes, he's eaten two."
"Horrid little beast! Then they'll joggle about inside him and blow up, and
serve him right. . . . Oh, Dick! have I killed you?"
Revolvers are tricky things for young hands to deal with. Maisie could not
explain how it had happened, but a veil of reeking smoke separated her from
Dick, and she was quite certain that the pistol had gone off in his face. Then
she heard him sputter, and dropped on her knees beside him, crying, "Dick, you
aren't hurt, are you? I didn't mean it."
"Of course you didn't, said Dick, coming out of the smoke and wiping his
cheek. "But you nearly blinded me. That powder stuff stings awfully." A neat
little splash of gray led on a stone showed where the bullet had gone. Maisie
began to whimper.
"Don't," said Dick, jumping to his feet and shaking himself. "I'm not a bit
hurt."
"No, but I might have killed you," protested Maisie, the corners of her mouth
drooping. "What should I have done then?"
"Gone home and told Mrs. Jennett." Dick grinned at the thought; then,
softening, "Please don'tworry about it.
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