"We put your hand in these grooves," proceeded Bemis. "Crack! Your knuckles are gone. See? The man who can pull a lever ever afterwards is a dandy. See?"
"I see," nodded Ralph, his lips set firmly, though his heart misgave him. "Do you mean, Mort Bemis, brute, coward, and traitor, to the honest workingman's cause, that you intend to maim me for life to satisfy a low, paltry spirit of revenge?"
"Mr. Ralph Fairbanks," declared Bemis coolly, "I--mean--just--that."
"Have you considered what this job is likely to cost you?" inquired Ralph.
"It didn't cost the strikers anything," jeered Ike.
"I am not mixed up in any strike," observed Ralph. "I warn you I have good friends, and any such fiendish act as that you contemplate will send them on your track to the ends of the earth."
"That'll do," growled Bemis. "Grab his hand--the right one, Ike."
"Got it--he's easy to handle," said Slump.
The young towerman was indeed easy to handle, for the reason that his arms were securely surrounded by the ropes, both above and below the elbows.
Ike seized the wrist of Ralph's right hand and Bemis advanced with the "nutcracker."