"Because the money was loaned me on those conditions."
"But—but—don't you see, Dad?—if you don't tell that—"
"They'll think I'm guilty. Well, I reckon they'll have to think it, Joy." The steady gray eyes looked straight into the brown ones of the girl. "I've been in this county boy and man for 'most fifty years. Any one that's willin' to think me a cold-blooded murderer at this date, why, he's welcome to hold any opinion he pleases. I don't give a damn what he thinks."
"But we've got to prove—"
"No, we haven't. They've got to do the proving. The law holds me innocent till I'm found guilty."
"But you don't aim to keep still and let a lot of miscreants blacken yore good name!" suggested Hart.
"You bet I don't, Bob. But I reckon I'll not break my word to a friend either, especially under the circumstances this money was loaned."
"He'll release you when he understands," cried Joyce.
"Don't bank on that, honey," Crawford said slowly.
"You ain't to mention this. I'm tellin' you three private. He cayn't come out and tell that he let me have the money. Understand? You don't any of you know a thing about how I come by that ten thousand. I've refused to answer questions about that money. That's my business."