I dropped Joel's clothes
down the ridge a ways, right in the trail, so he can't miss them. And that's
all. . . . Dad, was it--was it very bad?"
"Bad! Why, you ought to have thrown your gun on him. At least bounced a rock
off his head! But say, Lucy, after all, maybe you've done enough. I guess you
never thought of it."
"What?"
"The sun is hot to-day. Hot! An' if Joel's as crazy an' mad as you say he'll
not have sense enough to stay in the water or shade till the sun's gone down.
An' if he tackles that ten miles before he'll sunburn himself within an inch
of his life."
"Sunburn? Oh, Dad! I'm sorry," burst out Lucy, contritely. "I never thought of
that. I'll ride back with his clothes."
"You will not," said Bostil.
"Let me send some one, then," she entreated.
"Girl, haven't you the nerve to play your own game? Let Creech get his lesson.
He deserves it. . . . An' now, Lucy, I've two more questions to ask."
"Only two?" she queried, archly. "Dad, don't scold me with questions."
"What shall I say to Wetherby for good an' all?"
Lucy's eyes shaded dreamily, and she seemed to look beyond the room, out over
the ranges.
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