“Men of the Wu-Fan seized him,” said Ling Soo placidly. “They tried to kill. He was carried away, seemingly dead. He cannot do any harm to us tonight.
Ling Soo was bending over the form of Foy. Assisted by Darley, he dragged the prostrate body toward a farther door. Ling Soo opened the barrier. He found a lantern and lighted it.
The glow showed a square room near the bow of the ship. In its center stood a heavy upright frame — two vertical rods, with a horizontal crosspiece at their top.
“Foy must tell,” declared Ling Soo solemnly.
Joseph Darley nodded.
Ling Soo took a piece of stout rope. He crossed the wrists of the man who passed for Foy. He tied them tightly. He twisted a piece of wire to hold the knots firm. Pushing the end of the rope through a hole in the top of the rack, he drew it downward.
Darley, assisting, raised Foy’s body upright. He held it in that position, while Ling Soo pulled the rope taut.
Foy’s form, grotesquely lengthened, was hanging by its wrists, the toes just tipping the floor.
“Here,” said Ling Soo, “he shall tell!”
“He shall tell,” agreed Darley. “Then he shall die!”