The father of the boy who owned the knife was a great judge, and he caused the ragged lad to be sent to a State reformatory, where the next five years of his life were spent in rigid discipline--stigmatized as a common thief! And all these years the bitterness of a terrible hatred rankled in his bosom against you--who were responsible for all this.
"And he vowed a bitter vow of vengeance, that he would repay that act of yours if it took him a lifetime to accomplish it; that he would make you suffer like one on the rack for thrice five years, and then tell you why.
"It will not take much stretch of imagination for you to surmise, Lester Armstrong, that I am that boy upon whom you peached, and on whom, through you, such a severe penalty was inflicted.
"My hatred against you has intensified as the years rolled on, Lester Armstrong.

You are in my power; I hold your life in my hands.

Do you think if you were to pray to me on your bended knees that I would release you?
No, a thousand times no! Every groan that falls from your lips is music to my ears.
"Again I repeat, you are at my mercy, and I will give you a dose of that same mercy which you showed me in those other days.

Ha! you turn pale, as well you may! "Listen! Let me tell you what I intend to do.

I think you guess it from all that has gone on before, but I will repeat it.