His voice was more repulsive than it had been at any time before in Phil’s hearing. The high-pitched, tripping near-stutter, if the speaker had spoken from a position of concealment, might have caused any hearer to suspect that the utterances popped forth from the lips of a bully of imp-land.
“But,” Phil protested, hopelessly, it is true, “I have already told you the truth. You surely don’t want me to fabricate a yarn just to escape your cruelty.”
“No,” thundered the big fellow. “I want the truth. If you lie, I’ll know it at once and something worse will follow. Orderly, knee-splints, toe-thumb.”
The direction was given in English, but it evidently was understood. The orderly picked up two pieces of pine board, about three inches wide, an inch thick and a little more than two feet long. These he proceeded to strap to Phil’s legs, behind, so that the prisoner was unable to bend his knees. Then he tied a string to each of the boy’s thumbs and with the persuasive power of a strong pull drew those digits down against the victim’s great toes and tied these two extremities together.
“There,” rattled the boche military ogre, as he viewed the plight of his prisoner with evident enjoyment; “when you decide you’re ready to tell the truth, send for me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you besides what I’ve already told,” replied Phil desperately, for the pain of his cramped position was already testing his endurance.
“Think, think hard!” advised “the count” as he left the room.
The orderly also departed, and the victim was left alone in his misery. The latter twisted and squirmed into every possible position to relieve his distress. The strain on his legs, back, thumbs and toes was so uniformly painful that he only increased his misery when he added tension at one point or portion to relieve the others.
Anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour after Topoff and the orderly left, another man in coarse tattered civilian garments appeared, bearing a tray of steaming food. As he set it down before the prisoner, he startled the latter with the following speech, scarcely above a whisper:
“This is not intended for you to eat, only to look at. If you try to eat it, you’ll find it full of the hottest of red pepper. By the way, I’m an English spy and want to give you a little advice. Think up some kind of plausible story and tell it to ‘the count’ in the place of the one he refuses to believe. Grit your teeth, stick through your torment, for help is on the way, I hope. As soon as you think up a story that you think will stand a test of reason, yell to the orderly and tell him that you’re ready to give in.”