There was indeed something lacking in Joel, but it was not sincerity. His hurt had rankled deep and his voice trembled with indignation.
"But, Joel, I don't go swimming in spring-holes," protested Lucy, divided between amusement and annoyance.
"I meant it, anyhow," said Joel, doggedly.
"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.