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"
Joel spoke huskily. There was no doubt that he had been deeply hurt. Lucy saw
tears in his eyes, and her first impulse was to put a hand on his and tell him
how sorry she was. But she desisted. She did not feel at her ease with Joel.
"What'd you and Van fight about?" she asked, presently. Joel hung his head. "I
reckon I ain't a-goin' to tell you."
"You're ashamed of it?"
Joel's silence answered that.
"You said something about me?" Lucy could not resist her curiosity, back of
which was a little heat. "It must have been--bad--else Van wouldn't have
struck you."
"He hit me--he knocked me flat," passionately said Joel.
"And you drew a gun on him?"
"I did, an' like a fool I didn't wait till I got up. Then he kicked me! . . .
Bostil's Ford will never be big enough fer me an' Van now."
"Don't talk foolish. You won't fight with Van. . . . Joel, maybe you deserved
what you got. You say some--some rude things."
"I only said I'd pay you back," burst out Joel.
"How?"
"I swore I'd lay fer you--an' steal your clothes--so you'd have to run home
naked.


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