"Looks like it, sir. They would have no object in taking the handcuffs. The bodies were lying close together."
Old MacPherson came in, spluttering, half-asleep, and examined the two bodies carefully.
MacPherson had grown old in the service—old enough to have been retired—but he had induced Inspector Grandon to take him into the Eagle's Nest post, where he had become a general utility man.
"The poor de'ils never had a chance," he muttered. "McKay, ye fine lad, they got ye cold, so they did." He squinted up at Grandon, a suspicious amount of moisture around his old eyes. "Who did it, do ye know?"
"Kingsburg holds the answer, MacPherson."
"Aye, and she'll hold it tight," nodded MacPherson. "The de'il's own brood they are. Weel, there's na use of wailin' o'er cold clay, I suppose." He got wearily to his feet and shook his head sadly, as he left the room.
"Do you know if Conley is still around here, sir?" asked Henderson.
"I don't know," replied Grandon. "Conley and Burgoyne had a fight in Beaudet's place last evening, and I think Conley handled him roughly. You don't think that Conley had anything to do with this, do you?"
"Not at all, sir," quickly. "Conley and McKay were good friends, and beside that, Conley couldn't have done this. I was just wondering what Conley was talking about when he was brought in. He kept muttering about missing men, sir."
"Drunken hallucinations," Grandon sighed deeply. "He spoke to me about it, too. He said it happened a week ago, I think. Said he saw twenty men go into Magee's place, but he only found two in there."