was, nothing could save him!

His feet left the earth; he whirled on a pivot, high and clear, and
came to the ground with a force to match his weight, his body, like a
whip-lash, cracking its whole length as he struck.

Stunned by the awful shock, he did not move. His adversary stood
glaring at the still form for a moment, dazed himself by the sudden
outcome, then dashed into the barn, came out with a harness
throat-latch and a pitchfork, strapped Woodell's hands together, pulled
them over his knees, and between the knees and wrists passed the long
ash fork-handle. The man, slowly recovering his senses, was "bucked"
in a manner known to any schoolboy; as securely bound as if with
handcuffs and with shackles; as helpless as a babe!




CHAPTER XII.

INCLINATION AGAINST CONSCIENCE.

The shock had affected Woodell very much as what is known as a
"knock-out" in sparring affects a man. Absolutely unconscious at
first, he recovered intelligence slowly, though practically uninjured.
Harlson stood beside the grotesquely trussed figure and watched the
return to consciousness with curiosity. The cool night air assisted
the restoration.

Woodell opened his eyes, seemed to be wondering where he was, and then,