"That's where Mr. Anderson got straw on his feet. He comes by that narrow alley so he won't have to go by them greaser shacks, 'cause, if he did, they might talk. Let's see what he comes for." Allen chuckled to himself. He removed his blue glasses, took a Colt from his shoulder holster, and tucked it inside his belt. Then he flitted across the alley and ducked under the corral bars, silent as a ghost. He crossed the corral to a wall on the farther side. Music within told him that this was the rear of the Red Queen Saloon. There was no door here, so he slipped over to the barn and examined that. He passed the double doors that led to the stable. Beyond these he found a small door which was locked. He recrossed the corral, slipped under the bars, and tiptoed down the alley toward Depot Street. In one or two of the shacks there were lights, and once he passed two slovenly Mexicans seated in a doorway. They called to him, but he hurried by. Back on Main Street he fell into his rôle once more, staggering and singing softly to himself. He peered through the doors of the Red Queen, not daring to enter, because of the danger of being thrown out. Yet if he found Anderson, he had a plan that he thought would reinstate him in the Red Queen. He waited until several men clattered in to the bar and slipped in after them. He ducked through into the dancing hall, unseen by the bartenders. By good luck he found Anderson watching a poker game. He plucked his sleeve. Anderson scowled at him. "Say, mister," he whined, "don't let that sheriff jug me. They tell me you're a good guy that don't kick a guy just 'cause he's down on his luck." Several other men who heard the hobo's appeal looked curiously at the tattered figure and laughed. "You just stick in here, an' Powers dasen't come in after yuh," one of them said. "But them gents out front will give me the bum's rush," the hobo complained. Anderson grinned good-naturedly. "I've been down on my luck myself. Tom Powers can't touch you, if you have a job." The hobo drew back suspiciously. "I ain't very strong, mister." Again the others laughed, and the political boss smiled. "I wasn't thinking of anything that would hurt your health," he said. "How about doing odd jobs about the Red Queen?" Anderson went over to the Toad and talked to him for a moment. The Toad grinned and assented. Allen had known there was no love lost between Anderson and Tom Powers, but, even so, things had worked out better than he had hoped. Now he was hired as handy man about the Red Queen. He took up his new duties on the spot. And between errands he kept his ears open. "Ace is sure shootin' 'em high to-night. I bet he's lost over a thousand," he heard a man say. "It must come easy to him, because he lost more than that last night," another laughed.