"You better run along and find your knife, Breed," said Bud.
"Breed!" exploded Joe. "You'll pay for——"
Bud whirled and started toward Joe, who got swiftly out of the way by vaulting the counter.
"I say he shall not stay!" roared old Louie.
"Aw, don't roar about it!" snapped Bud. "Ain't a feller got any right to a defense? The Mounted kicked me out without any argument. But I don't mind. The only time a king means anythin' to me is in a poker game.
"I expect to leave this place. There ain't nothin' for me here—now," Bud's voice was pitched lower. "But I'll be damned if anybody is goin' to run me out. Nobody asks me if I done this."
Norah started to speak, but the doctor motioned her to silence. Clarey was a sour-faced old Irish doctor, very strong in his likes and dislikes, but with a heart of gold that he tried to conceal from the world.
"Conley, my lad," he said, trying to force his voice to be gruff, "perhaps we've been a bit too quick, but the evidence is against ye; so heavily against ye that we've given no thought to your defense. Have ye any?"
Bud shook his head and grinned at the doctor.
"Nope. I don't know a danged thing about it. What is there against me, except that I was found with the little girl?"