“Don’t be afraid,” said Joe, contemptuously. “I’m not going to thrash you in the presence of a lady.”
Relief came into Fleming’s face.
“It was only a lark,” he began, but Joe cut him short.
“I don’t care for any explanations,” he said. “I want you to go down on your knees in the road and beg Miss Varley’s pardon.”
Fleming looked around for some means of escape but found none. His furtive glance at Mabel fell before the scorn in her eyes.
“I apologize,” he jerked out sullenly.
“Down on your knees, I said,” remarked Joe with dangerous calmness.
Fleming hesitated before this last humiliation, but Jim’s knuckles in his neck decided him.
“I beg your pardon,” he muttered, getting down on his knees and scrambling again to his feet as hastily as possible.
“And now, Jim,” Joe continued, “if you’ll just take Mabel up the road a little way around that curve, I’ll finish this little account with Mr. Fleming.”