modulation of his voice, never hurrying, but
speaking with the slow and dreary monotony with which he had begun,
he nevertheless--partly by reason of these evidences of his incredible
self-control--made a formidable picture as he proceeded:

"When I told him that, sir, he said he'd take me to the ladder and see
if he couldn't make me change my mind.... Yes, sir; he said he'd take
me to the ladder." (Here there was a long pause.) "And I a human being,
with flesh on my bones and the heart of a man in my body. The other
warden hadn't tried to break my spirit on the ladder. He did break it,
though; he broke it clear to the bottom of the man inside of me; but
he did it with a human word, and not with the dungeon and the ladder. I
didn't believe the warden when he said he would take me to the ladder.
I couldn't imagine myself alive and put through at the ladder, and I
couldn't imagine any human being who could find the heart to put me
through. If I had believed him I would have strangled him then and
there, and got my body full of lead while doing it. No, sir; I could not
believe it.

"And then he told me to come on. I went with him and the guards. He
brought me to the ladder. I had never seen it before. It was a heavy
wooden ladder, leaned against the wall, and the bottom was bolted to the
floor and the top to the wall. A whip was on the floor." (Again there
was a pause.) "The warden told me to strip, sir, and I stripped.... And
still I didn't believe he would whip me. I thought he just wanted to
scare me.

"Then he told me to face up to the ladder. I did so, and reached my arms
up to the straps. They strapped my arms to the ladder, and stretched so
hard that they pulled me up clear of the floor. Then they strapped my
legs to the ladder. The warden then picked up the whip. He said to me,
'I'll give you one more chance: will you go to work to-morrow?' I said,
'No; I won't go to work till I get my dues.' 'Very well,' said he,
'you'll get your dues now.' And then he stepped back and raised the
whip. I turned my head and looked at him, and I could see it in his
eyes that he meant to strike.... And when I saw that, sir, I felt that
something inside of me was about to burst.'"

The convict paused to gather up his strength for the crisis of his
story, yet not in the least particular did he change his position, the
slight movement of his pointing finger, the steady gleam of his eye,
or the slow monotony of his speech. I had neve