exclaimed Bemis grimly. "The strikers did."

Ralph started. He recognized the "nutcracker" now. It was one of the brutal instruments of torture that had been used to terrify and cripple the men who had taken the places of the strikers, during the labor troubles on the Great Northern about a year back.

"We put your hand in these grooves," proceeded Bemis. "Crack! Your knuckles are gone. See? The man who can pull a lever ever afterwards is a dandy. See?"

"I see," nodded Ralph, his lips set firmly, though his heart misgave him. "Do you mean, Mort Bemis, brute, coward, and traitor, to the honest workingman's cause, that you intend to maim me for life to satisfy a low, paltry spirit of revenge?"

"Mr. Ralph Fairbanks," declared Bemis coolly, "I--mean--just--that."

"Have you considered what this job is likely to cost you?" inquired Ralph.

"It didn't cost the strikers anything," jeered Ike.

"I am not mixed up in any strike," observed Ralph. "I warn you I have good friends, and any such fiendish act as that you contemplate will send them on your track to the ends of the earth."

"That'll do," growled Bemis. "Grab his hand--the right one, Ike."

"Got it--he's easy to handle," said Slump.

The young towerman was indeed easy to handle, for the reason that his arms were securely surrounded by the ropes, both above and below the elbows.

Ike seized the wrist of Ralph's right hand and Bemis advanced with the "nutcracker."

A cold shiver ran over Ralph as his fingers were encased in the grooves of the iron hand.

He remembered having once seen a victim of the strike, a poor fellow who had gone around with the knuckles of one hand twisted so out of shape that he would never be able to straighten out his fingers again.

Ralph could not resist. If he shouted for help, he knew that he would be brutally silenced. He thought of his mother, of the bright ambitions about to be wrecked by two worthless, cruel enemies.

Then Ralph closed his eyes. He set his lips firmly, and silently prayed that his wicked inquisitors would not dare carry out fully their announced programme.

"I'm ready," sounded Bemis' heartless tones.

"So am I," chorused Ike. "You'll wish you'd minded your own business and let us alone, Ralph Fairbanks."

Bemis began to put the pressure on the vile instrument of torture.

Ralph's breath came quick. He felt his fingers compress.

Chug!

Ralph strained his hearing at the new sound. He opened his eyes with a thrill.

The pressure on his hand was relaxed. The "nutcracker," released by Bemis with strange suddenness, dangled at Ralph's finger tips for an instant. Then it dropped harmless to the carpet with a dull clang.

Ralph saw something cleave the air directly in front of him. It was a human fist. It met the broad, astonished face of Mort Bemis squarely.

That shuddering, sickening sound echoed out. It reminded Ralph of the noise made by a boy playing with a big lump of clay, and spatting it violently against a wooden fence.

He saw Bemis fall back with a roar of awful pain. In that fleeting glimpse, it looked to Ralph as if Mort's face had been flattened out from ear to ear. His nose seemed to have disappeared In its place was a vague red blotch of color.

Bemis fell flat backwards, his head striking a chair and smashing off its arm.

"You next!" shouted a terrible voice.

Ike Slump had already dropped Ralph's hand. With a sharp cry of alarm he tried to dodge back.

Again that great fist swung forward. Ralph turned pale, and he felt his flesh creep.

As he looked, he saw Ike Slump reeling. There was a ghostly grin on his face. His whole lower row of teeth was gone.

"I said I'd do it," spoke Ralph's rescuer and the a.s.sailant of his enemies, "and I've kept my word."

Young Slavin proceeded to liberate Ralph from the ropes that bound him.

CHAPTER XXII--A HEADSTRONG FRIEND

Ralph was faint and dizzy-headed with all that had transpired in the last twenty minutes.

He felt that he had been in the peril of his life. He bestowed a look of immense grat.i.tude on Slavin.

"You came in time," said he. "How shall I ever thank you?"

"Cut it out," growled Slavin grimly. "I ain't through yet. I've been watching these skunks for an hour or more. I knew that Stiggs, who has gone on a little jaunt with his wife to see some relations, would never give those reptiles the free run of his house. I fancied burglary at first. Then when you came I knew it was something deeper. Well, it's the finishing touch. I suppose, in your usual soft-hearted way, you want to beg them off from further punishment, don't you?"

"It strikes me they have got about all the punishment they can stand at present," suggested Ralph.

"O, that's just a starter," announced Slavin. "Keep your eye on Slump for a minute."

Ike had fallen across the sofa. He was moaning and half-stunned. He kept moving his hand over his bare and tingling gums, making a horrible, hollow, hissing sound every time his breath exuded.

"The dentist for you," said Slavin in cold unconcern. "This one is delegated to the hospital, I guess."

The speaker approached the prostrate Bemis.

"Speak up, there," growled Slavin savagely. "I've a little business with you, Mort Bemis. Where are those two silver medals that you stole from me?"

Bemis only wriggled and groaned. Slavin kicked him. He sat up with a howl of pain.

"p.a.w.ned," he whimpered.

"Where?"

"At Barry's cigar store."

"For how much?"