"
The judge smiled oddly. "There were three thousand head of cattle?"
Warde straightened. "How in hell do you know?" he demanded.
"Banker Maison paid for them," he said gently.
He related to Warde the incident of the visit of Sanderson and the
banker, and the payment to Sanderson by Maison of the ninety thousand
dollars.
At the conclusion of the recital Warde struck the desk with his fist.
"Damned if I didn't think it was something like that!" he declared.
"But I wasn't going to make a holler until I was sure. But Sanderson
knew, eh? He knew all the time who had done the killing, and who had
planned it. Game, eh? He was playing her a lone hand!"
The sheriff was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again, a glow of
excitement in his eyes. "But there'll be hell to pay about this! If
Sanderson took ninety thousand dollars away from Maison, Maison was
sure to tell Dale and Silverthorn about it--for they're as thick as
three in a bed. And none of them are the kind of men to stand for that
kind of stuff from anybody--not even from a man like Sanderson!"
"We've got to do something, Judge! Give me warrants for the three of
them--Dale, Maison, and Silverthorn, and I'll run them in before they
get a chance to hand Sanderson anything!"
Judge Graney called the busy clerk and gave him brief instructions.
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