It was impossible for the law to fasten a single crime upon Magee, yet they knew that he was responsible for many grave offenses. It was a tough problem that faced Grandon that morning. Joe Burgoyne sauntered into town and sat down moodily in front of Beaudet's store. He was no longer Joe Burgoyne the debonair. His classical nose had been dented and a split upper lip gave him a continuous sneer. His eyes hinted at a sleepless night and he spat angrily at a few loafing Indians who gazed curiously at him. His sorrowful reflections were broken by Henderson, who came up and informed him that the inspector wished to have a few words with him. "What for?" demanded Joe sullenly. "He'll tell you," said Henderson coldly. Joe got to his feet and walked slowly toward headquarters. He did not relish a talk with Grandon, but he knew better than to refuse. Henderson followed him in and Grandon motioned him to a chair. "What you want?" demanded Joe. He was more Indian than white now. Grandon considered him for several moments. "Burgoyne, do you know that McKay and Cree George were killed yesterday at Kingsburg?" he finally asked. Joe nodded quickly. "I hear it talk about today." "You do not like the police, do you Burgoyne? No need to answer that question. Here is what I want to talk to you about. A white man and an Indian, both wearing the authority of the law, were shot down in the street. The man or men who fired those shots must pay the penalty of the crime. "I can bring enough men in here to wipe Kingsburg off the map, but the innocent would suffer with the guilty. If I can find the names of the guilty men, we will go there and take them away. But no man in the employ of the police would be able to gather that information, except by accident. You understand?" Joe nodded and caressed his sore face. "You know Kingsburg and Magee?" Joe shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I go there like de rest." "You know Magee?" "Sure--like de rest know him." "And are you afraid of him--like the rest?" "Why should I be afraid of Magee?" flashed Joe quickly. Grandon nodded. "I am glad of that, Burgoyne." "You blame Magee for shoot policemen?" "I feel sure he knows who did it." "What you want from me?" Joe seemed suspicious. [Illustration] "I want you to go to Kingsburg and find out who killed McKay and Cree George." Joe shook his head. "I don't want to be killed." "Nobody will know you are working for me," urged Grandon. "Nobody know, eh?" Joe's beady eyes half-closed as he leaned back in his chair and considered the proposition. "Mebbe take long time to find out, eh? If police come there, nobody find out, and Joe Burgoyne die quick. You give me t'ree days--mebbe I find out." "Take your own time," said Grandon visibly relieved, "and no one from the post shall interfere with you." Joe got to his feet and turned toward the door. "We could use any information regarding the whereabouts of Bud Conley," added Grandon.