So much the worse for Pitt.

The ingenious Colonel Bishop knew a dozen ways--some of them quite diverting--of conquering stubbornness in these convict dogs.
He turned now upon the slave a countenance that was inflamed by heat internal and external, and a pair of heady eyes that were alight with cruel intelligence.

He stepped forward swinging his light bamboo cane.
"Who was that runagate ?" he asked with terrible suavity.

Leaning over on his spade, Jeremy Pitt hung his head a little, and shifted uncomfortably on his bare feet.

Vainly he groped for an answer in a mind that could do nothing but curse the idiocy of Mr.James Nuttall.
The planter's bamboo cane fell on the lad's naked shoulders with stinging force.
"Answer me, you dog! What's his name ?" Jeremy looked at the burly planter out of sullen, almost defiant eyes.
"I don't know," he said, and in his voice there was a faint note at least of the defiance aroused in him by a blow which he dared not, for his life's sake, return.