"But, say, look here, brethren," Peeler pleaded between shattering teeth, "can't we compromise this thing? I'll repent and join the church. And how'll a contribution of fifty dollars each strike you? Now what do you say to that?"
The coward's voice had melted into a pious whine.
The leader selected a switch from the bundle extended by a shrouded figure and without a word began to lay on. Peeler's screams could be heard a mile.
Norton allowed them to give him a dozen lashes and spurred his horse into the crowd. There was a wild scramble to cover and most of the boys leaped to their saddles. Three white figures resolutely stood their ground.
"What's the meaning of this, sir?" Norton sternly demanded of the man who still held the switch.
"Just a little fun, major," was the sheepish answer.
"A dangerous piece of business."
"For God's sake, save me, Major Norton!" Peeler cried, suddenly waking from the spell of fear. "They've got me, sir—and it's just like I told you, they're all preachers—I'm a goner!"
Norton sprang from his horse and faced the three white figures.
"Who's in command of this crowd?"