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.

What was more, the bullet struck one of the Italians, who, with a howl of
pain, wheeled about and hurried down-stairs, followed by his
terror-stricken companion.

Tom was half-frightened out of his wits, and made up his mind that the
best thing he could do was to get out of the place without any further
delay.

The only way to escape was to go down the stairs, the same as his
assailants had done.

It was not a pleasant duty; but, remembering what the Irishman had told
him, and filled with an uncontrollable aversion against staying any
longer, he hurried out, pausing only long enough to catch up his small
bundle of clothing.