"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.
"You can marry me. Thet'll show thet gang! An' it'll square me. Then I'll go back to work an' I'll stick. Thet's all, Lucy Bostil."
Manifestly he was laboring under strong suppressed agitation. That moment was the last of real strength and dignity ever shown by Joel Creech.
"But, Joel, I can't marry you—even if I am to blame for your ruin," said Lucy, simply.
"Why?"
"Because I don't love you."
"I reckon thet won't make any difference, if you don't love some one else."
Lucy gazed blankly at him. He began to shake, and his eyes grew wild. She rose from the log.
"Do you love anybody else?" he asked, passionately.