What was the amazement of the youth to see at this moment, while his eyes were fixed upon the door, the iron bolt slowly move back, without, so far as he could see, the least human agency.
This was a house, indeed, in which such characters were given every facility they could wish to ply their unholy vocation.
Immediately after the fastening went back, the latch was lifted, and the door swung noiselessly inward.
As it did so, a head, covered only with a mass of shock hair, which hung down like pieces of tarred rope, and with the lower part of the face veiled by a black, stringy beard, was thrust far enough within to show the shoulders. Directly behind appeared another face, placed on a shorter body, but none the less repellant in expression, and the two were forcing their way into the room, when they paused.
They seemed to conclude that it would be best to consider the matter further before rushing in there.
Instead of seeing a boy sound asleep in bed, waiting for them to rob him of all his earthly possessions, they found themselves confronted by a wide-awake lad, with his revolver pointed straight at their villainous heads.
"Why don't you come in?" asked Tom, never lowering his weapon.
"Put him down!" said the foremost of the villains, in broken English, hoping to frighten the lad.
"I don't feel like doing it just now," was the reply, while the arm remained as fixed as a bar of iron.
Tom did not intend to shoot unless they advanced upon him; but, not being accustomed to the weapon, he was unaware that a very slight pressure was enough to discharge it. Unconsciously he exerted that slight pressure, and, while the miscreants were glaring in the door, the pistol was fired.