Bostil swore.

"I tell you I was mad," continued Lucy, "and just as surprised. That was one
of the queer things. But never before had he dared to--to-"

"Insult you. Then what 'd you do?" interrupted Bostil, curiously.

"I yelled, 'I'll fix you, Joel Creech!'. . . His clothes were in a pile on the
bank. At first I thought I'd throw them in the water, but when I got to them I
thought of something better. I took up all but his shoes, for I remembered the
ten miles of rock and cactus between him and home, and I climbed up on
Buckles. Joel screamed and swore something fearful. But I didn't look back.
And Peg, you know--maybe you don't know--but Peg is fond of me, and he
followed me, straddling his bridle all the way in. I dropped Joel's clothes
down the ridge a ways, right in the trail, so he can't miss them. And that's
all. . . . Dad, was it--was it very bad?"

"Bad! Why, you ought to have thrown your gun on him. At least bounced a rock
off his head! But say, Lucy, after all, maybe you've done enough. I guess you
never thought of it."

"What?"

"The sun is hot to-day. Hot! An' if Joel's as crazy an' mad as you say he'll
not have sense enough to stay in the water or shade till the sun's gone down.
An' if he tackles that ten miles before he'll sunburn himself within an inch
of his life."

"Sunburn? Oh, Dad! I'm sorry," burst out Lucy, contritely. "I never thought of
that. I'll ride back with his clothes."