."

"Wal, I am. I've been sort of a big brother to Lucy Bostil for eighteen
years. I carried her in these here hands when she weighed no more 'n my
spurs. I taught her how to ride--what she knows about hosses. An' she
knows more 'n her dad. I taught her to shoot. I know her better 'n
anybody. An' lately she's been different. She's worried an' unhappy."

"But Holley, all that--it doesn't seem--"

"I reckon not," went on Holley, as Slone halted. "I think she cares fer
you. An' I'm your friend, Slone. You're goin' to buck up ag'in some
hell round here sooner or later. An' you'll need a friend."

"Thanks--Holley," replied Slone, unsteadily. He thrilled under the iron
grasp of the rider's hard hand.

"You've got another friend you can gamble on," said Holley,
significantly.

"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. But I've a temper, and Bostil rubs me the
wrong way."

"Wall leave your gun home, an' fight Bostil. You're pretty husky. Sure
he'll lick you, but mebbe you could give the old cuss a black eye."
Holley laughed as if the idea gave him infinite pleasure.

"Fight Bostil? ... Lucy would hate me!" cried Slone.

"Nix! You don't know thet kid. If the old man goes after you Lucy'll
care more fer you. She's jest like him in some ways." Holley pulled out
a stubby black pipe and, filling and lighting it, he appeared to grow
more thoughtful. "It wasn't only Lucy thet sent me up here to see you.
Bostil had been pesterin