But Matin's strength was greater than the lad had imagined; also he was wild with rage. With his free hand he struck viciously at Hal, while he kicked with his feet and sought to bury his teeth in Hal's arm.
But Hal held him back.
Vainly, Matin sought to move his right arm around so as to bring the muzzle upon Hal's heart. With a quick move Hal suddenly released his hold upon Matin's pistol wrist and seized the pistol hand. His finger covered Matin's finger on the trigger.
Matin's hand at that moment was extended straight from him. Slowly now, as Hal exerted his utmost pressure, the arm described a semicircle. Now it pointed almost straight forward. Then, as Hal brought more strength into play, the arm curved inward; and directly the revolver pointed squarely at Matin's heart.
The perspiration stood out in great beads on Matin's forehead. He was panting and gasping for breath. Hal was breathing easily, though the manner in which the sinews on his forehead and arms stood out showed to what extent he had extended himself.
When the mouth of the revolver pointed at Matin's heart, Hal said quietly:
"Now, Matin, if you will release your hold on this gun I will let you go free."
Matin's answer was a snarl of rage.
Whether the man went suddenly insane or whether he knew fully what he was about, Hal can not say to this day; but under his own finger, the finger on the trigger tightened. There was a flash, a muffled report and the form of Matin fell limp in the lad's arms. Hal stepped back and Matin slid to the floor. Hal stooped over and laid a hand over the man's heart.
"Dead!" the lad exclaimed, and added: "but not by my hand. He pressed the trigger himself!"