"Yes, it's fine," replied Slone, rather awkwardly, as he sat down on the porch step. What could Holley want with him? This old rider was above curiosity or gossip.
"Slone, you ain't holdin' it ag'in me—thet I tried to shut you up the other day?" he drawled, with dry frankness.
"Why, no, Holley, I'm not. I saw your point. You were right. But Bostil made me mad."
"Sure! He'd make anybody mad. I've seen riders bite themselves, they was so mad at Bostil. You called him, an' you sure tickled all the boys. But you hurt yourself, fer Bostil owns an' runs this here Ford."
"So I've discovered," replied Slone.
"You got yourself in bad right off, fer Bostil has turned the riders ag'in you, an' this here punchin' of Creech has turned the village folks ag'in you. What'd pitch into him fer?"
Slone caught the kindly interest and intent of the rider, and it warmed him as Brackton's disapproval had alienated him.
"Wal, I reckon I'd better tell you," drawled Holley, as Slone hesitated, "thet Lucy wants to know IF you beat up Joel an' WHY you did."
"Holley! Did she ask you to find out?"
"She sure did. The girl's worried these days, Slone.... You see, you haven't been around, an' you don't know what's comin' off."