A gasp of dismay broke from the crowd.
But in a trice Jesse had his victim out of the coals and again brought the ladle to his neck.
Fearing a repetition of his struggle, Frank held him tight.
Quickly the bandit-chieftain poured the molten tar inside his clothes, repeating the movement three times.
Yelling at the top of his lungs, Consollas writhed.
"Close his mouth with feathers, then jam some down into the tar," snapped Jesse.
Quickly, Clell obeyed.
Fred's contortions redoubled. The soft fluffy things got down his throat and he spluttered frantically.
Again was the ladle thrust into the cauldron and the contents thrown on his clothes.
The writhings of the luckless youth amused the crowd and they howled and chuckled with glee.