as the last of real strength and dignity ever shown by Joel
Creech.

"But, Joel, I can't marry you--even if I am to blame for your ruin,"
said Lucy, simply.

"Why?"

"Because I don't love you."

"I reckon thet won't make any difference, if you don't love some one
else."

Lucy gazed blankly at him. He began to shake, and his eyes grew wild.
She rose from the log.

"Do you love anybody else?" he asked, passionately.

"None of your business!" retorted Lucy. Then, at a strange darkening of
his face, an aspect unfamiliar to her, she grew suddenly frightened.

"It's Van!" he said, thickly.

"Joel, you're a fool!"

That only infuriated him.

"So they all say. An' they got my old man believin' it, too. Mebbe I
am.... But I'm a-goin' to kill Van!"

"No! No! Joel, what are you saying? I don't love Van. I don't care any
more for him than for any other rider--or--or you."

"Thet's a lie, Lucy Bostil!"

"How dare you say I lie?" demanded Lucy. "I've a mind to turn my back
on you. I'm trying to make up for my blunder and you--you insult me!"

"You talk sweet ... but talk isn't enough. You made me no-good ....
Will you marry me?"

"I will not!" And Lucy, with her blood up, could not keep contempt out
of voice and look, and she did not care. That was the first time she
had ever shown anything, approaching ridicule for Joel. The effect was
remarkable. Like a lash upon a raw wound it made him writhe; but more
significant to Lucy was the sudden convulsive working of his features
and the wildness of his eyes. Then she turned her back, not from
contempt, but to hurry away from him.

He leaped after her and grasped her with rude hands.

"Let me go!" cried Lucy, standing perfectly motionless. The hard clutch
of his fingers roused a fierce, hot anger.

Joel did not heed her command. He was forcing her back. He talked
incoherently. One glimpse of his face added terror to Lucy's fury.

"Joel, you're out of your head!" she cried, and she began to wrench and
writhe out of his grasp. Then ensued a short, sharp struggle. Joel
could not hold Lucy, but he tore her blouse into shreds. It seemed to
Lucy that he did that savagely. She broke free from him, and he lunged
at her again. With all her strength she lashed his face with the heavy
leather quirt. That staggered him. He almost fell.

Lucy bounded to Sarchedon. In a rush she was up in the saddle. Joel was
running toward her. Blood on his face! Blood on his hands! He was n