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. . . Say,
girl, you're all pale! Oh, say, you wasn't scared of the King, now?"
"No," replied Lucy, panting.
"Wal, what's up, then?" The rider spoke in an entirely different voice, and
into his clear, hazel eyes a little dark gleam shot.
"Joel Creech waylaid me out in the sage--and--and tried to catch me." Lucy
checked herself. It might not do to tell how Joel had tried to catch her.
"He did? An' you on the King!" Farlane laughed, as if relieved. "Wal, he's
tried thet before. Miss Lucy. But when you was up on the gray--thet shows
Joel's crazy, sure."
"He sure is. Farlane, I--I am mad!"
"Wal, cool off, Miss Lucy. It ain't nothin' to git set up about. An' don't
tell the old man."
"Why not?" demanded Lucy.
"Wal, because he's in a queer sort of bad mood lately. It wouldn't be safe. He
hates them Creeches. So don't tell him."
"All right, Farlane, I won't. Don't you tell, either," replied Lucy, soberly.
"Sure I'll keep mum. But if Joel doesn't watch out I'll put a crimp in him
myself."
Lucy hurried away down the lane and entered the house without meeting any one.


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