"Well," drawled Bud, "I didn't want to disappoint him."
"That's too bad," sighed Henderson.
"Don't bawl about it," begged Bud. "'F there's anythin' I hate it's t' see a policeman cryin'. I reckon I can bear m' burden."
Henderson smiled. He had been Bud's bunkie and liked Bud, in spite of the fact that Bud laughed at the traditions of the Royal Mounted. Henderson was heart and soul in the service.
"Going to leave this country, Conley?" he asked.
"I—reckon—so—mebbe."
Henderson glanced toward Beaudet's store and stepped in closer to Bud. "Keep your eyes open, Conley. Beaudet is half crazy and Burgoyne is as venomous as a snake. Dr. Clarey has been trying to talk sense into both of them, but I don't think he has done much good."
"Henderson, do you think I got that girl drunk?"
"I don't want to, Conley."
"Then yuh do," said Bud quickly, "but it don't make no never mind."