e isn't my
boss! Who made him my master? It's all right for him to lead Hodge
around by the nose that way, but----"

"Hello!" came in an inquiring voice, and Badger, looking up, saw Morton
Agnew. The Westerner's face took on an unpleasant look, and he did not
answer the hail.

"Don't be surly!" said Agnew, coming boldly on.

"What do you want?" snapped the Kansan.

Then the thought came to him that it would be a good idea to treat Agnew
with some consideration, for thereby it might be possible to get the
inside facts about the shell that ripped the gun open and came so near
mangling his arm.

"What do you want?" he asked again, toning down his gruffness.

"I know we're not friends," said Agnew, with the suavity of a confidence
man, "but that is no reason why we should always remain foes. I saw you
here, and you looked lonesome. I'm a rather lonesome bird myself
to-night, so I whistled to you."

"I allow you've the most gall of any man I ever saw!" was Badger's
thought.

Aloud, he said:

"We'll go down this way, then. Did I look lonesome? Well, I wasn't
feeling any lonesome, I can tell you--none whatever!"

"Perhaps you object to my company?" drawing back.

Badger knew that this was a piece of acting, and he wanted to crack
Agnew on the jaw for it. But he held himself in check. Really Badger
seemed to be gaining some self-control--a thing that was entirely
foreign to him when he first knew Merriwell. He was enabled to hold
himself in by the intense desire he felt to discover if Agnew slipped
the "fixed" shell into the box. That was an important point just then.

"Come along!" the Westerner grunted. "You said that you were lonesome,
if I am not. I'm not so hoggish as to want to run away from a man who
thinks he can get good out of my company."

"I like to hear you talk that way," said Agnew, linking his arm in the
Kansan's.

The touch made Badger's flesh creep, but he held this feeling in check,
too.

"Here's a saloon!" said Agnew, after they had walked a considerable
distance without saying anything of moment. "Let's go in. We can talk in
there. I never like to chatter much on the street."

Looking up, Badger saw that they were in front of a well-known resort,
which he had entered more than once, but of which he had recently fought
shy. Winnie's face rose reproachfully before him as he stopped and
looked at the entrance. It almost drove him back.

"We can talk better inside," Agnew urged.

The We