PRISON FRIENDS.
The conversation languished now; and a few moments later the deep
breathing of the Russian proclaimed that he was asleep. But there was no
more sleep for Jack; he had slept until he could sleep no more. For long
hours he lay there in his corner thinking.
"I've been in some queer and peculiar places," he told himself, "but
this is the limit; also, as this Russian says, it's not going to be an
easy job to get out of here."
In the darkness of the dungeon it was impossible to tell whether it was
day or night outside. Jack had lost all track of time. He felt in his
pockets. He had no matches and his watch and what money he had had were
gone.
"They've cleaned me out pretty well," he muttered.
Several hours later Jack heard the Russian stirring about again and came
to the conclusion that the man was awake. He hailed him.
"Yes, I'm awake," came the reply.
"Do you have any idea whether it is day or night?" asked Jack.
"Can't be daylight yet," was the reply. "They'll have us out of here as
soon as it is light."
"Well, I wish it would hurry and come then," said Jack. "I would like to
get out of here."
"So would I; but I'd rather lie here peacefully than to face what we
must face when we get out."
"You mean----"
"The lash," replied the Russian calmly.
Again Jack shuddered. The word had an ugly sound.
It seemed only a short time later when a hand was heard fumbling at the
lock of the door to the dungeon. Jack and the Russian got to their feet,
and then the lad realized that not even his feet were bound. He walked
up and down in the darkness several times, with hands outstretched that
he might not bump into a wall.
Now a streak of light pierced the darkness and Jack made out a door at
the far end of the dungeon. There came a hoarse hail, and although the
words were unintelligible to Jack, he supposed that they were a summons
to come out. He approached the door, the Russian behind him.
Outside the door Jack and the Russian were surrounded by a squad of
soldiers, fur clad. Then they were marched into the open. Here, for the
first time, Jack discovered that his great coat was missing. He had not
noticed the fact before, but the extreme cold now called it forcibly to
his attention. He shivered.
In spite of the cold, however, Jack glanced around eagerly as he was led
along. On several sides were large rock structures. Men went in and men
came out. All were heavily clad and were, apparently, soldiers.
A short distance farther on, however, they came upon a group of figures
who were not soldiers. These were prisoners, and they were not clad so
warmly as were their captors. Most of them shivered and quaked with the
cold. Jack, fresh from the warmth of the dungeon, eyed them pitifully.
Old men and young, girls and women there were in abundance; and upon
each countenance was the same expression--that of fright. They were
plainly subdued and cowed.
Straight toward this group Jack and the Russian were marched by their
guards. There they were halted and herded into line like a lot of sheep,
while their captors drew an armed circle about them. Directly there
approached a man taller and more handsomely garbed than the others. This
man Jack took to be the commander of the outpost. It transpired that he
was right, for the big man was General Surgoff, commander of this
particular prison camp.
The big officer eyed the prisoners closely; then he signaled one of his
soldiers. In response to the signal, the man hurried away, to return a
few moments later with two other stalwart fellows, each armed with great
black whips.
The general motioned to a man foremost among the group.
One of the guards thrust the man forward. He approached the general,
plainly cowed. The officer spoke a few words to him; then turned to the
men with the whips.
"Ten lashes!" he ordered.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the first lash fell upon the
man's shoulders. He uttered a moan of pain, but he did not cry out.
Again and again the lash fell; until the ten blows had been delivered.
Then the prisoner stumbled back to his place.
Jack grew sick at the sight.
The next man summoned before the general was the Russian who had
occupied the dungeon with Jack. The man went forward quietly and with an
air that impressed the lad with its courageousness. Again there were a
few short words and the officer ordered:
"Ten lashes!"
The Russian made no move as the first whip descended across his
shoulders. He took the next blow unflinchingly and the others that
followed, and returned to his place without a word.
All this time Jack had been standing within a few feet of the place
where the whipping had taken place. He had stuck to the spot, for he
knew it would be unwise to show any sign of weakness or fear.
The next to face the general was a woman. Perhaps her age was thirty,
perhaps fifty. From her face, so care-worn and haggard, it was
impossible to tell. A few words the general held with her, too, then
turned to the men who wielded the whips.
"Five lashes!" he ordered quietly.
The woman uttered a piteous cry and fell on her knees, raising an
appealing hand to the general. She was in this position when the first
blow fell.
The arm of the second man was now raised and descended; but before the
lash could find its mark, Jack sprang suddenly forward and caught the
blow upon his left arm. With a cry of rage he leaped upon the man who
had wielded the whip and snatched it from his hand with a single
movement; then he leaped back and struck the man squarely across the
face.
The man staggered back.
The second whip-wielder rushed upon the lad, with his weapon raised.
This blow, too, Jack caught upon his arm. Before it could be repeated,
he had dealt the Russian a heavy blow across the face, and, following it
up quickly, snatched the whip from the man's hand.
Then, still furious, the lad wheeled upon the officer, who had stood by,
smiling the while. As Jack faced him, the officer, still with a smile on
his face, drew a revolver and pointed it squarely at him.
So great was his anger, however, that Jack either failed to see the
revolver pointed directly at him, or else he was too enraged to heed it.
Ignoring the weapon as though it had been no more than a toy pistol, he
leaped forward with a cry.
There was a flash and a sharp report and Jack felt something burn the
left side of his head; but the bullet did not stay him. Before the
officer could fire again, the lad was upon him, the whip in his right
hand held high above his head.
"Swish!"
It descended with all the power of Jack's good right arm.
The blow caught the general about the shoulders and he staggered back,
at the same time seeking to bring his revolver again into use.
But Jack was too quick for him. Again the heavy lash rose and fell and
yet again. Three times General Surgoff attempted to raise his revolver
and fire and each time he was unsuccessful.
As each blow fell the general cried aloud in pain and fear.
Suddenly, tiring of his attempts to get a shot at the lad, he turned and
fled.
Jack, with a grim smile on his face, ran after him.
"Swish!"
Again the lash wrapped itself around the officer's shoulders and he gave
a cry of pain.
"Swish!"
This time the lash caught him in the back of the head and entwined
itself about his face.
Another howl from General Surgoff.
Raising an arm in an attempt to shield his face, the general lost his
balance and fell to the ground. Leaning over him, Jack seized him with
his left arm and jerked him to his feet. Then, thrusting him off at
arm's length, he again brought the lash into play.
"Eight!" he counted aloud.
"Nine!"
"Ten!"
He threw the lash suddenly to the ground and turned to face the squad of
soldiers who came running up.
These men had been afraid to fire for fear of wounding their commander;
but now they laid rude hands on Jack and held him, as General Surgoff
arose slowly to his feet and felt his face and shoulders tenderly.
The officer turned an angry glare on Jack and he said very quietly:
"I should have you killed. But I won't. It would be too easy a death.
You shall have twenty lashes every morning and nothing but bread to eat
and water to drink for thirty days. Strip him, men!"
Jack's coat was quickly stripped from his shoulders. His vest was jerked
away and his shirt ripped off. Then, his back bare, he was pushed into
the center of the crowd of soldiers.
The general now summoned the two men who had first held the whips and
they seized their weapons eagerly, for each had felt the weight of
Jack's anger.
"Twenty lashes!" cried the general. "Ten from each of you!"
Jack braced himself to receive the first blow. It came a moment later
with a terrible whishing sound. The lash wrapped itself around his bare
shoulders and the pain of it was terrible.
But Jack made no outcry.
The second man delivered a hard blow, which also caught the lad about
the bare shoulders, only from the other side. The lad staggered a
trifle, but kept his feet with a visible effort.
A third and fourth blow came in rapid succession; and Jack staggered
first to the right and then to the left. It was almost more than flesh
and blood could stand.
The rawhides continued to fly with renewed vigor. Jack, who had at first
kept track of the strokes, had lost all count now. He was doing his best
to remain on his feet; and he kept his lips shut firmly to keep from
uttering a cry of pain.
With the fifteenth blow Jack was all but unconscious, but he was still
on his feet. At the seventeenth he reeled and all but fell. At the
nineteenth he stumbled, and with eyes closed, fell face forward on the
ground.
He did not feel the twentieth blow, for consciousness had left him.
The men who had plied the lashes, stepped back, tired out with their
exertions. But they eyed Jack with a certain degree of respect.
During the terrible ordeal, not a sound had escaped his lips.