"I don't understand," he said.

"Neither do I," returned Bill rather blankly. "I guess if there is
to be any setting down, it's Brick that needs a chair."

The telegram was as follows:


"The second you get this, hide for your life. Red Kimball says he
can prove everything. Will explain in letter.

"Lahoma."


"Don't say nothing to me for a spell," growled Brick, thrusting his
hands deep into his pockets. "I've got to think mighty quick." He
strode toward the dugout, leaving Wilfred and Bill staring at each
other, speechless.

In a short time, Willock reappeared, bringing from the dugout his
favorite gun. "Come along," he bade them briefly. When he had
ascended the rounded swell of Turtle Hill, he stretched himself
between two wide flat rocks and lay with his face and gun directed
toward the opening of the cove.

"Now, Bill," he said sharply, "if you will just set facing me with
your eye on the north wall, so you can tell if anybody tries to
sneak over the mountain-top, I'll make matters clear. Wilfred, you
can go or stay, free as air, only IF you stay, I can't promise but
you may see a man killed--me, or Red Kimball, I don't know which,