It was Banty Harrison. Tears were trickling down his cheeks and his lips trembled. He started angrily toward the door, but turned and looked back at the crowd. “Wh-what’s the matter?” choked Harp. Banty pointed at his flopping necktie, which had crawled up above the top of his celluloid collar. “That —— string busted—that’s what’s the matter.” The rest of them had no alibi. But the looting of Sun Dog was over and they looked at each other unashamed, while Brick, with Whizzer clinging to his one good hand, went hunting for a doctor, and the orchestra across the street struck up a waltz. [Transcriber’s Note: 1. This story appeared in the August 30, 1924 issue of _Adventure_ magazine. 2. This story also exists in extended novel form in the Distributed Proofreaders Canada collection at www.fadedpage.com ]