Magee was proprietor of a hotel--the Magee Rest. No one, or at least very few people ever put up at his hostelry; but Magee waxed prosperous and never complained over poor business. The border element came to Magee's place, and he was usually surrounded by a bunch of questionable characters. But the Mounted were unable to fasten horse or cattle stealing or liquor running onto Magee. The day before his forced resignation Bud had gone to Kingsburg, hoping for something to happen to break the monotony--and it did. At Magee's place Bud ran into two punchers from just over the Montana border, and Bud knew these two men as rustlers. They knew Bud, but did not recognize him. [Illustration] The place was orderly enough, as far as Bud could see, but he was, as he expressed it, "a little leary of the whole outfit." Magee was outwardly friendly to Bud, and talked to him about the Indian liquor selling trouble. "I sabe how they suspect me," said Magee confidentially, "and mebbe I don't blame 'em. I've got a little good liquor, Conley--for my friends." "Thasall right," admitted Bud. "I ain't ridin' yuh, am I, Magee? 'F yo're sellin' hootch to the reds, you'll get yours sooner or later. The Mounties always get their man, yuh know." "Sure, I sabe that, Conley, but just t' show yuh that I ain't concealin' anythin', I'll ask yuh to have a little drink from my private stock. Whatcha say?" "I'll say that she's a long dry spell," said Bud. Magee went into the rear room of the place and came out with two glasses of liquor. There was no attempt at concealing anything. The liquor was very strong and of a peculiar taste, but Bud did not feel that anything was wrong until Magee's face and form began to separate into many more Magees; so many that the room seemed densely populated with Magees. Then the Magee army and everything else faded out and Bud's senses with them. When Bud came back to his senses he found himself at headquarters, his clothes whisky soaked, a bottle of liquor in his pocket and disgrace staring him in the face. From the lips of old Angus MacPherson Bud found out that he had been found on the road, just at the outskirts of Kingsburg, drunk as a fool. And with him was Marie Beaudet, a young half-breed girl, just as drunk as he. He was also informed by MacPherson, who had no sympathy for anybody, that Joe Burgoyne, who was engaged to Marie Beaudet, had sworn to kill him on sight--if old Louis Beaudet did not beat him to it. Joe was a gambling half-breed, with a hawk-like face, a lean, lithe body and uncanny ability with a knife. Bud scowled deeply and it seemed to please MacPherson immensely. "And Bur-r-goyne will do it, too," declared the Scot ominously. "He's a de'il with a knife. And don't ye over-r-look old Louie and his shotgun." "Yuh sure can think of a lot of sweet things, you damn old cockle-burr," groaned Bud. MacPherson grinned maliciously. "And as for-r-r Miss Nor-r-rah Clarey----"