...or kicked him. Desperately wounded though he was, he still lived; and, as they kicked him, he said, Don't abuse me; it is useless; i am dying. It was a vain appeal. One of the wretches [since a United States Deputy Marshal] stooped over the prostrate man, and, with a refinement of cruelty exceeding the rudest savage, spit tobacco juice in his eyes. Satiated brutality at last went back to its carousala ...