"Bud Conley?" echoed Louie. "She's rob me of everyt'ing, eh? W'at I do now?"
Louie glanced helplessly around and his eyes came to rest on the two blanket-covered bodies.
"That is McKay and Cree George," said Grandon softly. "They were killed yesterday or last night in Kingsburg."
"W'at?" exploded Louie, crossing himself quickly. "Both men dead? Mon Dieu, w'y is all dis be done?"
Grandon ignored Louie's question and turned back to Henderson.
"Are you sure that is Conley's gun?"
"Yes, sir. But perhaps someone stole it from him. Wait a moment."
Henderson hurried out of the room and crossed to the barracks. He was hoping against hope that Bud might be there, but he found that Bud's personal things were all gone, and on the sleeve of Bud's service coat he found the note, which read:
So-long, Henderson. I'm pulling out now. Good luck.
Bud.