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.