"Are you absolutely honest? Is that all you said to provoke Van?"

"It's all, Lucy, I swear."

She believed him, and saw the unfortunate circumstance more than ever her
fault. "I'm sorry, Joel. I'm much to blame. I shouldn't have lost my temper
and played that trick with your clothes. . . . If you'd only had sense enough
to stay out till after dark! But no use crying over spilt milk. Now, if you'll
do your share I'll do mine. I'll tell the boys I was to blame. I'll persuade
them to let you alone. I'll go to Muncie--"

"No you won't go cryin' small fer me!" blurted out Joel.

Lucy was surprised to see pride in him. "Joel, I'll not make it appear--"

"You'll not say one word about me to any one," he went on, with the blood
beginning to darken his face. And now he faced her. How strange the blaze in
his differently colored eyes! "Lucy Bostil, there's been thet done an' said to
me which I'll never forgive. I'm no good in Bostil's Ford. Mebbe I never was
much. But I could get a job when I wanted it an' credit when I needed it. Now
I can't get nothin'. I'm no good! . . . I'm no good! An' it's your fault!"

"Oh, Joel, what can I do?" cried Lucy.

"I reckon there's only one way you can square me," he replied, suddenly
growing pale. But his eyes were like flint. He certainly looked to be in
possession of all his wits.

"How?" queried Lucy, sharply.