"Yes, it will; it must. You see, I had a good right to kill him, but Rita had not. At any rate, don't you know that they might as well kill Rita at once as to try her? She couldn't live through a trial for murder. It would kill her or drive her insane. I'll plead guilty. That will stop all questioning."
"Yes," replied Billy, deep in revery, and stroking his chin; "perhaps you are right. But how about Hill and Clark? They will testify that Rita did the shooting."
"No one will have the chance to testify if I plead guilty," said Dic.
"And if Doug should die, you may hang or go to prison for life on a mere unexplained plea of guilty. That shall never happen with my consent."
"Billy Little, you can't prevent it. I'll make a plea of guilty," responded Dic, sharply; "and if you try to interfere, I'll never speak your name again, as God is my help."
Billy winced. "No wonder she loves you," he said. "I'll not interfere. But take this advice: say nothing till we have consulted Switzer. Don't enter a plea of guilty. You must be tried. I believe I have a plan that may help us."
"What is it, Billy Little?" asked Dic, eagerly.
"I'll not tell you now. Trust me for a time without questions, Dic. I am good for something, I hope."
"You are good for everything concerning me, Billy Little," said Dic. "I will trust you and ask no questions."
"Little," said Kennedy, "if you will make a stretcher of boughs we will carry Hill up to Bright's house and take him home in a wagon. I think he may live." Accordingly, a rude litter was constructed, and the four men carried the wounded Douglas to Dic's house, where he was placed upon a couch of hay in a wagon, and taken to his home, two or three miles eastward.