w it is. And--and we'll have to marry without him. But Bill's
here--in that jail--because he wouldn't betray his friend. And I
couldn't marry without either Brick or Bill, could I?"

She took her quivering hand from Wilfred's sturdy arm, and moving to
the top of the steps, held out her trembling arms appealingly:

"MEN!-- Give me Bill!"

The crowd was with her, now. No doubt of that. All fierceness gone,
tears here and there, broad grins to hide deep emotion, open
admiration, touched with tenderness, in the eyes that took in her shy
flower-like beauty.

"You shall have Bill!" shouted the spokesman of the crowd. And other
voices cried, "Give her Bill! Give her Bill!"

"Bring him out!" continued the spokesman in stentorian tones. "We'll
not ask him a question. Fellows, clear a path for 'em."

A broad lane was formed through the throng of smiling men whom the
sudden, unexpected light of love had softened magically.

While Mizzoo hastened to Bill's cell, some one exclaimed, "Invite us,
too. Make it a town wedding!"

And another started the shout, "Hurrah for Lahoma!"

Lahoma, who had taken refuge behind Wilfred's protection, wept and
laughed in a rosy glow of triumphant joy.

Mizzoo presently reappeared, leaving the door wide open. He walked to
the stairs, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deep-cut with
appreciation of the situation. "Fellows," he called, "he says you
carried him in there, and dinged if you won't have to carry him out,
for not a step will he take!"

At this unexpected development, a burst of laughter swelled into a
roar. After that mighty merriment, Bill was as safe as a babe. Twenty
volunteers pressed forward to carry the wedding-guest from his cell.
And when the old man slowly but proudly followed Wilfred and Lahoma to
the hotel where certain preparations were to be made--particularly as
touching Bill's personal appearance--the town of Mangum began gathering
at the newly-erected church whither they had been invited.

When the four friends--for Mizzoo joined them--drove up to the church
door in the only carriage available, Bill descended stiffly, his eyes
gleaming fiercely from under snowy locks, as if daring any one to ask
him a question about Brick. But nobody did.

CHAPTER XXIV

MINE ENEMY

The general suspicion that Bill Atkins knew more about Brick Willock
than he had revealed, was not without foundation; though the extent of
his knowledge was more limited th