“I could not resist the temptation to lead them. I wanted to see inside the old house again—you understand. I never dreamed of anything happening.”
“None of the boys were drinking?”
“No, and there wasn’t a fool among them—they were all my chums and friends in town.”
“Then go at once and tell them that I say to put a thousand miles between them and this town in the next forty-eight hours—to Texas if possible.”
“Why?” asked Billy with a touch of wounded pride.
“There are a hundred reasons—one is enough. There’s a price on the head of the man who committed that crime.”
“My men didn’t do it!”
“Granted. But one of these fine days a white-livered traitor may crawl from your Klan and claim his reward of gold or office. You will be convicted in ten minutes.”
Billy turned pale, and straightened his boyish figure.
“Well, I’ll tell my men to go. I’ll not run.”