"I wish you could get me some little blocks of wood to rest the iron on," answered Allen, gratefully.
The man secured the blocks and so saved the constant strain of forty pounds of iron pulling at the victim's legs.
While the men were kind and considerate, those in authority were just the reverse.
Every indignity possible was heaped on the unfortunate prisoners.
It was midnight, on the first day of Allen's imprisonment, and the Americans had managed to fall asleep.
Eben was lying at Allen's feet, enduring the most horrible tortures because of the irons, but never complaining for fear that he might be separated from his hero.
Suddenly their sleep was disturbed by a loud voice asking where the rebels had been placed.
It was the captain's voice, and he knew well, for he had ordered every detail.
"They are here, captain."
"Let them stand up."