"Durand and I have gone over this whole thing; have looked up every man on Flomerfelt's list; they won't stick to us, that's all. Wilkinson, your crowd are down on you. And what's more, the _Morning Mail_ now stands behind Ilingsworth, and they're going to stick by him. So if we make this attempt to unload iniquity on Ilingsworth and fail, we'll do two things we don't want to do: One is, we'll make the dangerous admission that there has been iniquity; and the other, psychological problem as it is, is quite as much to be feared----" "Fire ahead," interrupted Wilkinson. "I'm banking on Beekman--banking on his personality with his jury, and I don't want the ghost of a doubt to show in his face. That's why I sent him to Europe. Of course we need the evidence he's getting over there--it's good stuff. But I sent him now in order that he shouldn't even read, save in a casual way, this story of Ilingsworth. A true story is a mighty bad story, Peter. So we'll cut Ilingsworth out of this case. If the People produce him--and I'm satisfied they won't--why we'll try to get him on the cross-examination. Durand and I have talked it all over, and our game is going to be a game of denial from start to finish. I doubt whether the People make out the case against you. If they don't we've got 'em nailed. And if the judge sends the case to the jury, we'll deny everything the People put up against us. But it's a lucky thing for you that they'll believe your daughter Leslie." "It's a pity, Wilkinson," said Flomerfelt, with something like a sneer, "that while you were about it, you didn't swing this thing in a more careful way. Of course it's too late now. You bit off more than you could chew that time! You thought you could get away with the goods--got careless! I've seen many a safecracker do the same thing." Wilkinson flushed. "Do you mean to compare me with----" he began; but Flomerfelt left the question unanswered. "This is no Sunday-school picnic, and you may as well understand it now, Peter," said Morehead. "We've got to work for our living in this case, and you've got to do your share, have got to understand that it's a running fight from now on to the end." "I'll do my part," Wilkinson assured them, burying his hands in his pockets. "But I want you to find out who the judge is going to be, and when the time comes, give me the names of the jury, and I'll get at them all right." Colonel Morehead rose to his lanky height and clutched the shoulder of his opulent client. "Wilkinson," he cried, shaking a lean hand in the other's face, "you don't know what you're talking about! And you might as well make up your mind now that you can't touch Murgatroyd, and you can't touch the Court. And Murgatroyd is there to see that you don't touch the jury. We--Durand and I--have got charge of this thing. You keep your hands off...." "But you're going to pull me out, aren't you?"