“Now, you have it all. Felton and Graves are here, as you see, in prosecution of their unlawful business, as the testimony of this boy and his father shows. In further proof whereof, see the surveyor’s instruments here in view. What say you, men of the Grants, are they guilty or not guilty?” “Guilty,” said the various voices. “What shall be their punishment? That they be chastised with the twigs of the wilderness?” There was general affirmative response, some answering loudly, others faintly and hesitatingly. Then Job Carpenter stepped forward, and, making a military salute, said: “I don’t go agin these men a gittin’ what they desarve, but I don’t want to have them skinned. Their skins hain’t worth a-hevin’ only for their selves, and I hate to see white men whipped like dogs. If they was Injins I wouldn’t say agin it. But, bein’ they hain’t, I move they hev jest nine cuts o’ the Blue Beech apiece.” “Forty, save one,” was the customary award in such cases, and there were a few dissenting voices, but the milder punishment was finally agreed upon. If the two men under sentence felt any gratitude for the mitigation of the severity, they expressed none. Graves maintained a sullen silence, though his vengeful scowl expressed as much hatred of the prosecutors of the informal trial as did the storm of oaths and abuse that Felton let forth upon them in intermittent gusts. So the night passed, with snatches of sleep for some, with none for others, while the prisoners were kept under constant guard. With daylight came the summary infliction of the punishment awarded. It was a scene so cruel that Ruth and Martha could not bear to hear, much less to witness it, and Nathan, when an old man, said it was a horrible memory. Yet, severe as was the chastisement inflicted by the Green Mountain Boys upon their persecutors, it was no more cruel than the legal punishment of many light offences in those days, when the whipping post was one of the first adornments of every little hamlet. In conclusion, Ethan Allen gave to Felton and Graves a “Certificate,” written by himself, to the effect: “This is to Certify that the Bearer has this day rec’d his Just Dues and is permitted to pass beyond the New Hampshire Grants. He Behaving as Becometh. In witness whereof, see the Beech Seal upon his back and our Hands set Hereunto. Signed, Ethan Allen and others.” Felton cast his upon the ground and stamped upon it, but Graves folded and put his carefully in his pocket, glowering in silence upon his enemies. Then Ethan Allen broke the surveyor’s compass with his own hands and tossed the fragments away.