"Another! Who?"
"Lucy Bostil. An' don't you fergit thet. I'll bet she'll raise more trouble
than Bostil when she hears what Joel Creech is tellin'. Fer she's bound to
hear it. Van Sickle swears he's a-goin' to tell her an' then beat you up with
a quirt."
"He is, is he?" snapped Slone, darkly.
"I've a hunch Lucy's guessed why you punched Joel. But she wants to know fer
sure. Now, Slone, I'll tell her why."
"Oh, don't!" said Slone, involuntarily.
"Wal, it'll be better comin' from you an' me. Take my word fer thet. I'll
prepare Lucy. An' she's as good a scrapper as Bostil, any day."
"It all scares me," replied Slone. He did feel panicky, and that was from
thoughts of what shame might befall Lucy. The cold sweat oozed out of every
pore. What might not Bostil do? "Holley, I love the girl. So I--I didn't
insult her. Bostil will never understand. An' what's he goin' to do when he
finds out?"
"Wal, let's hope you won't git any wuss'n you give Joel."
"Let Bostil beat me!" ejaculated Slone. "I think I'm willin--now--the--way I
feel.
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