Bud averted his head while he thought over what he had heard. McKay and the Indian had arrested Magee and were killed in the street by the boss. Who was the boss, he wondered? If Monk Magee was ringing that warning bell, this must be Magee's place. Then it suddenly dawned upon Bud that this room was beneath Magee's hotel at Kingsburg. This was where those men had gone that day they had disappeared so mysteriously. No wonder he failed to find them. "And I didn't have sense enough to keep away from the danged place," he reflected bitterly. "I'm in a danged good place to lose my scalp." The crowd at the bar were laughing loudly, and Bud turned toward them. One of the kegs had been decorated with a red coat. A bottle had been placed atop the keg, and on the bottle dangled a service hat of the Mounted police. And to this effigy of a Royal Northwest Mounted Policeman they were drinking vile toasts. The coat and hat were stiff with mud, but never before had they meant so much to Bud Conley, the Montana cowpuncher. For a moment his eyes narrowed and he surged ahead, gripping the pistol in his pocket. He was going to show this howling mob of outlaws what it meant to insult the service. But he stopped. It suddenly dawned upon him that he was not a member of the force any longer. Why should he take up a challenge for the Mounted? The noise at the bar stopped. Bud turned his head. Coming down the stairs was Joe Burgoyne, the half-breed, grinning widely. Bud moved further back against the wall, his hand still gripping the gun. The men called loudly to Joe, who answered with a flash of his white teeth and a wave of his hand. A man shoved a cup of the raw liquor into his hands, while the others crowded around him. "W'at about de police, Joe?" called one of the men at the card table. The half-breed threw back his head and laughed mockingly. "De police! Such a lot of fools! Ha, ha, ha! Listen," Joe sobered quickly, and the place was stilled. "Today, or rather las' night, I am appointed to find out who kill one officer and one Injun. Everybody look out, because Joe Burgoyne is police spy." A roar of laughter greeted this statement, in which Joe joined heartily. Then his roving eye caught sight of the effigy on the bar and he simulated sudden exasperation. [Illustration] "See?" he exploded, pointing at the effigy. "The police lie to poor Joe! They promise to not send any policeman to Kingsburg for three day. Ba gar!" Joe dashed down his cup of liquor. "I'm quit work for the police right now!" The crowd roared their approval and surged to the bar. Bud knew that Joe was sober and that his keen eyes would search him out quickly. There was no question but what Joe was in league with Magee's gang, and Bud smiled to himself at the thought of Grandon hiring Joe to spy on his own crowd. Joe had mounted to the top of the bar and shouted for silence, as he held up a cupful of liquor.