“I have got an account to settle with you, boy,” said the trader. “I am going to ask you a question, and you had better tell the truth, or I will squeeze it out of you the hard way. Where did you and Dove-eye bury the Big Medicine?”
The countenance of the negro, at this unexpected question, convinced Wormley that he had hit the mark, and he proceeded to press his advantage.
“You needn’t try to lie out of it,” he said, “or to get out of it in any way; for I know pretty near all about the matter. Dove-eye has admitted to me that the old man died, and that you helped her bury him, and I only want you to show me where the grave is.”
The name of Dove-eye brought the negro to his senses. He perceived that, whatever she might have admitted, she had not revealed the place of burial of the old man, and he was determined to disclose nothing that she had not been willing to make known. He stoutly denied all knowledge of the grave, or of the death of the old man, or of any thing connected with his disappearance.
“Very well,” said the trader. “I know that you are lying, and I have advised you to tell the truth. If you don’t tell it, I must squeeze it out of you.”
As the negro persisted in refusing to make any disclosures, he was gagged, stripped, and tied to a tree. The trader cut hickory rods, which he plied upon the back of the poor fellow until he was tired of the exercise, and then turned over the task to Bull-tail, who, having received several flagellations, thought it a great privilege to be permitted to whip somebody.
Jose kicked and writhed and groaned in his agony; but, when the gag was removed from his mouth, he refused to utter a word.
“I’ll have it out of you yet!” exclaimed Wormley, with an oath. “In the settlements, when we get hold of a tough customer, and he won’t let the truth come out of him, we choke it out, and that’s the way I will serve you, you black rascal!”
He had brought a rope, which he knotted in the most approved style, and placed around Jose’s neck, throwing the loose end over the limb of a tree. After exhorting the negro to confess, Wormley and the Indian hauled him up until his feet were off the ground, but soon lowered him.
“You see what it is, boy,” said the trader. “You had better make up your mind to show us that grave, or you will get a choking ten times worse than this.”