held him thus and looked into the beautiful face now so pitifully
distorted with fear.

"Guess I've done the tracking this time," Will said through his
clenched teeth. "You put me to a lot of trouble coming all this way.
Still, I don't guess I mind much. Most folks get their med'cine.
You're going to get yours to-night. How d'you like it?"

He wrenched the weakly arm till the boy cried out again, and dropped
to his knees in anguish. But, with a ruthless jolt, Will jerked him to
his feet, nearly dislocating his arm in the process.

"Oh, you're squealing, now, eh? You're squealing," he repeated,
striking the boy on the hump of his back with his clenched first.
"That hurts too, eh?" As a fresh cry broke from his victim. "I always
heard that the hump was tender in a dog-ghasted cripple. Is it? Is
it?" he inquired, at each question repeating the blow with increased
force.

He released his hold, and the boy fell to the ground. He stood looking
down at him with diabolical purpose in his eyes.

"Say, you figgered to hand me over to the rope, eh? You guessed you'd
stand by watching me slowly strangle, eh? So you trailed me, and went
on to Doc Crombie and told him. Ah--h. You like hurting things. You
like seeing folks hurt. But you're scared to death being hurt
yourself. That's how I know. I could kill you with the grip of one
hand. But it wouldn't hurt you enough. At least not to suit me. You
must be hurt first. You must know what it's like being hurt, you
rotten, loathsome earthworm!"

He dealt the lad a terrific kick on his sickly, sunken chest, and a
terrible cry broke the silence. It was almost like the cry of a pig
being slaughtered, so piercing and shrill a squeak was it.

The noise of his cry startled his torturer. After all they were not
far from the village. Then he laughed. A cry like that from the
prairie must sound like a hungry coyote calling to its mate. Yes, no
one would recognize it for a human cry. He would try it again.

He dealt the prostrate boy another furious kick, and he had his wish.
A third time the blow was repeated to satisfy his savage lust, and he
laughed aloud at the hideous resulting cry. Again and again he kicked.
And the cries pleased him, and they sent a joyous thrill through him
at the thought of the pain the lad was suffering. He would continue it
until the cries weakened, then he would cease for a while to let his
victim recover. Then again he would resume the fiendish kicking, and