Brick waved impatiently toward the letter that still gleamed in the young man's hand. "We goes on document'ry evidence," he said. "I takes a bold and open stand on the general plea of 'Not guilty' to nothing. That's technical, and it's arbitrary. Should you be asked had I ever expressed an opinion as to being a highwayman, or a lowwayman, you can report me as saying 'Not guilty,' according." "Brick," interposed Wilfred, returning him the letter, "you're making a mistake not to trust us with the whole truth. If you wait for Lahoma's letters and only admit what she discovers, Bill and I can't form any plan of protecting you. While her information is coming, bit by bit, the man who wants you hanged is liable to show up--" "Let 'im come!" growled Brick. "He can't get no closer to me than I'll be to him. I'm not going to air my past history. What Lahoma finds out, I admits frank and open; otherwise I stands firm as not guilty, being on safe ground, technical and arbitrary." "But if Red Kimball brings the sheriff--it's only a matter of time--your plea of not guilty won't save you from arrest. And he'll have any number of rascals to prove what he pleases, whether it's the truth or not. If Gledware comes as a witness, his position will give him great influence against you--and the fact that he'd testify after you'd saved his life, would make a pretty hard hit with the jury." "Jury nothing!" retorted Brick. "This case ain't never going to a jury. Such things is settled man to man, in these parts." "But as surely as the sheriff serves his writ, you'll be landed in jail. And I happen to know the sheriff; he's a man that couldn't be turned from his duty--good friend of mine, too." "Is, eh? Then you'd better advise with him for his good." "Think of Lahoma. If you killed a man--whether the sheriff, or this Red Kimball--Lahoma could never feel toward you as she does today."