ched him up to the jail and presented him with a
beautiful plaything--a handle of wood with nine leather whip-lashes
upon the end of it. "Your duties will be light," said the schout.
"Every man you flog will give your mother a fee. Come here with me and
begin your labors!"

In the open space before the jail and _stadt huys_ were a pair of
stocks and a whipping-post. Nanking's uncle released a rough but
light-built man, who had been sitting in the stocks, and taking off
the man's jacket and shirt, fastened him to the post by his wrists.

"Give this culprit fifty lashes, well laid on!" ordered the schout.

Nanking turned pale. "Must I whip him? What has he been doing that he
is wicked?"

"Smuggling!" exclaimed Schout Van Swearingen. "He has taken advantage
of the free port of New Amstel to smuggle to the Swedes of Altona and
New Gottenburg, and the English of Maryland. Mark his back well!"

The sailor, as he seemed to be, looked at Nanking without fear. "Come,
earn your money," he said.

"Uncle," cried Nanking, throwing down the whip, "how can I whip this
man who never injured me? Do not all the people smuggle in New Amstel?
Was it not to stop that which brought the mighty Director Stuyvesant
hither with the great schout of New Amsterdam, worshipful Peter
Tonneman? Yes, uncle, I have heard the people say so, and that you
have smuggled yourself ever since your superior, the glorious Captain
Hinoyossa, sailed to Europe."

"Ha!" exclaimed the bold smuggler. "Van Swearingen, _dat is voor u_!
That is for you!"

"_Vore God_!" exclaimed the schout; "am I exposed and mocked by this
idiot?"

He took up the whip and beat Nanking so hard that the strong young man
had to disarm his uncle of the instrument. Then, stripped of his fine
clothes and restored to his rags, Nanking was returned with contempt
to his mother's house.

"Mother!" he cried, throwing himself upon the floor, "am I an idiot
because I cannot hurt others? No, I will be a fool, but not
whip-master!"

The shrewd Peter Alrichs came to the widow's abode and asked to see
Nanking. He brought with him the worshipful Beeckman, lord of all
South River, except New Amstel's little territory, which reached from
Christine Hill to Bombay Hook. They both put long questions to
Nanking, and he showed them his burnt heel, still scarred by the
fagots of the Susquehannocks.

"_Ik houd dat voor waar!_ I believe it is true," they said to each
other. "They were burning him a