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 not the Joel
Creech she knew.

"Stop!" cried Lucy, fiercely. "I'll run you down!"

The big black plunged at a touch of spur and came down quivering, ready to
bolt.

Creech swerved to one side. His face was lividly white except where the bloody
welts crossed it. His jaw seemed to hang loosely, making speech difficult.

"Jest fer--thet--" he panted, hoarsely, "I'll lay fer you--an' I'll strip
you---an' I'll tie you on a hoss--an' I'll drive you naked through Bostil's
Ford!"

Lucy saw the utter futility of all her good intentions. Something had snapped
in Joel Creech's mind. And in hers kindness had given precedence to a fury she
did not know was in her. For the second time she touched a spur to Sarchedon.
He leaped out, flashed past Creech, and thundered up the road. It was all Lucy
could do to break his gait at the first steep rise.