ly.

"Keep quiet," he said, "or I'll have to tap you on the head with this
rifle stock. What sort of a greenhorn do you take me for? I would have
promised anything to get out of that place."

Brick ceased to struggle. He knew it was useless. With a sinking heart
he marched back through the swamp, held tightly by his ruffianly captor.

They soon came in sight of the cabin. When they crossed the threshold
they met with a surprise. Raikes was sitting on the bed with a clean
white bandage wrapped around his forehead.

"That you, Joe?" he said, feebly. "Where have you been? Did the lad
escape?"

Bogle hastily explained.

"I'm sorry for what happened, old man," he added. "It was an accident,
and I was to blame. I thought you were dead when I dashed out of the
cabin after this young scamp here."

"It was a close call," replied Raikes. "The ball plowed a furrow right
across my forehead."

"You need rest," said Bogle. "Sleep will fix you up better than
medicine."

"Yes; I reckon so," admitted Raikes. "But what are you going to do with
the lad? No more violence, Joe--for my sake. There are other ways to
break him in."

"It shall be as you say," replied Bogle, "though I hate most infernally
to lose the time. Still, you may not be able to travel for a day or
two."

He hesitated a moment, and thoughtfully knitted his brows. Then he took
a piece of rope from his pocket, and cut it in two.

Dexterously tripping Brick to the floor, he bound his ankles and wrists.
Then he dragged him across the room, and threw open the door of a small,
low closet that was level with the floor.

"Do you see that?" he exclaimed. "It's not a very snug place, but it's
where you'll stay until you consent to write those letters. And nothing
to eat or drink, remember. If you choose to starve to death, it's your
own lookout."

A moment later Brick was in the closet, and the door was jammed tightly
shut.

The closet was of such small dimensions that Brick could not stretch his
body out full length, nor could he sit upright. The floor was hard, and
through the log-wall next to the open air came a cold and cutting wind.

His limbs were bound very tightly, and soon he suffered from cramp and
shooting pains. But Brick had an obstinate nature, and the thought of
yielding was extremely bitter.

Incredible as it may seem, he actually held out all that day, and all of
the night that followed. He suffered untold pain, and the torments of
hunger, t