"What you need is a sound tannun," he said. He plied the strap in perfect silence upon the writhing man, who swore and yelled, but dared not rise.
"Give him enough of it!" yelled the crowd.
"Give the fool enough!"
Bacon worked away with a curious air of taking a job. The strap fell across the man's upheld hands and over his shoulders, penetrating even the thick coat he wore—but it was not the blows that quelled him, it was the look in Bacon's eyes. He saw that the old man would stand there till sunset and ply that strap.
"Hold on! Dam yeh—y' want 'o kill me?"
"Got 'nough?"
"Yes, yes! My God, yes!"
"Climb onto that horse there."
He climbed upon his horse, and with Bacon leading it, rode back along the road he had come, covered with blood.
"Now I want you to say with y'r own tongue ye lied," Bacon said, as they came to the last polling-place he had passed.