This action on his part so amazed the ruffians that they stood there, staring after him, with mouths agape. But Hank Sprowl presently recovered from his amazement, and said to his companions sharply: “After him, boys! We mustn’t let him git away. We’ll give him that coat of tar and feathers, that’s what we’ll do. Come with me.”
Then he hastened after Miller, and his three companions hurried to followed him. They soon caught up with the young man, and as he heard their footsteps, and half-turned, as if to speak to them, they leaped upon him and bore him struggling to the ground.
Miller was a rather strong and athletic young man, and he fought with all his strength. But four to one was too big odds, and he was soon overpowered. Then, with his hands tied together behind his back, they hustled Miller to a nearby gully, where a kettle was already suspended above a fire, and in the kettle itself was a lot of tar, bubbling at a great rate. Near at hand was a bag of feathers.
“Ther tar’s cooked good enuff,” said Sprowl. “Take it off and let it cool a little bit. We’ve got ther bird here, an’ we’ll soon put ther feathers onto him.”
“Gentlemen, I protest against any such proceeding,” said Miller, with dignity. “You have no right to do any such thing as that. I demand that you set me free and let me go my way.”
“Ye kin demand, but that’s all ther good et’ll do ye,” grinned Sprowl.
A couple of the ruffians took the kettle off the fire, and set it at one side to cool a few minutes. Then one or two of the others took off Miller’s coat, vest and shirt, and Sprowl ordered them to get to work, which they did, one applying the tar to the teacher’s body with a brush, while others sprinkled on the feathers.
The tar was still too hot for comfort, and Miller writhed and gave utterance to groans expressive of pain, in spite of his efforts to keep from doing so, but the ruffians merely laughed and kept on till they had finished. Then they gave Miller a shove, and told him to go.
“And see to it thet ye are gone from this neighborhood in twenty-four hours!” cried Sprowl. “Ef we ketch ye here, arter that, we’ll give ye somethin’ worse’n tar and feathers. Now git!”
And Miller, glad to escape from such heartless villains, staggered away through the forest, followed by jeering remarks and coarse laughter from the Tories.