With his free hand Ratman had contrived while talking to reach unheeded a pocket, from which he suddenly whipped a pistol, and, pounding on his captor, fired.
The shot was badly and wildly aimed at the tutor's face.

Even at so short a distance it might have missed its mark altogether.

Roger's sudden intervention, however, found it an unexpected target.

The lad's up-flung hand caught the pistol at the moment it went off, and received in its palm the ball which had been intended for his friend.
The sight of this untoward accident completely unnerved the prisoner.
He sullenly let the weapon drop from his fingers, and with the air of a gambler who has played and lost his last stake, sank listlessly on the sofa on which not ten minutes before he had been sleeping.
"Luck's against me," he said with an oath.

"Look to the boy; I shan't trouble you any more.