"He's dead. I don't say he's better off, I don't know; but I guess the world is. I don't like to censure them that's departed. Brick Willock is still with us, and him the county can't say enough against. His life wouldn't be worth two bits if anybody laid eyes on 'im. Consider his high-handed doings. Wasn't it enough in the past to kill Red's brother, but what he must needs collect his pals, stop the stage-coach, shoot two men trying to get Red, and one of 'em the innocent driver? You say, yes. But hold on, that ain't all he done. No, sir. The very next day after Red swore out that warrant--and it was yesterday, if you ask ME--what is saw, when we men of Mangum comes out of our doors? Three corpses lying on the sidewalk, side by side. You say, what corpses? Wait. I'm coming to that. One was that driver; one was the pard that got shot with the driver. The other was Red Kimball his own self." "I knew the bodies had been carried away from the trail," exclaimed Wilfred in perplexity. He related his discoveries of the stormy night. "But you didn't know they had been brung to town all this distance to be laid beside Red. You didn't know Red had been stabbed so he could be added, too. You didn't know the three of them had been left on the street to rile up every man with blood in his veins. Why, Wilfred, it's an insult to the whole state of Texas, Such high-handed doings ain't to be bore. If Brick Willock don't want to be tried in court, is that an excuse for killing off all that might witness against him? It might of been ONCE. But we're determined to have a county of law-abiding citizens. Such free living has got to be nipped in the bud, or we'll have another No-Man's Land. We're determined to live under the laws. This is civilization. The cattle business is dead, land is getting tied up by title-deeds, the deer's gone, and there's nothing left but civilization. And I am the--er--as sheriff of Greer County I am a--I am the angel of civilization, you may say." Mizzoo started up, too excited to notice Wilfred's suddenly distorted face. It was no time to display a sense of the ludicrous; the young man hotly burst into passionate argument and reasonable hypothesis. "We've got civilization," Mizzoo declared doggedly, "and we aim to hold on to her, you bet! There's going to be no such doings as three corpses stretched out on the sidewalk for breakfast, not while I'm at the helm. How'd that look, if wrote up for the New York papers? That ain't all--remember that ghost I used to worry my life out over, trying to meet up with on the trail? Him, or her or it, that haunted every step of the way from Abilene to the Gulf of Mexico? It's a flitting, that ghost is! Well, I don't claim that no ghost is in my jurisdiction. Brick's flesh and blood, there's bone to him. As my aunt (Miss Sue of Missouri) used to say, 'he's some MAN.'"