of the day on which Dale had organized the posse
to go to the Double A, Judge Graney sat at his desk in the courtroom.
The room was empty, except for a court attache, who was industriously
writing at a little desk in the rear of the room.

The Maison case was in the judge's mental vision, and he was wondering
why the banker had not complained, when the sheriff of Colfax entered.

Graney smiled a welcome at him. "You don't get over this way very
often, Warde, but when you do, I'm glad to see you. Sit on the
desk--that's your usual place, anyway."

Warde followed the suggestion about the desk; he sat on it, his legs
dangling. There was a glint of doubt and anxiety in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Warde?" asked the judge.

"Plenty," declared Warde. "I've come to you for advice--and perhaps
for some warrants. You recollect some time ago there was a herd of
cattle lost in Devil's Hole--and some men. Some of the men were shot,
and one or two of them went down under the herd when it stampeded."

"Yes," said the judge, "I heard rumors of it. But those things are not
uncommon, and I haven't time to look them up unless the cases are
brought formally to my attention."

"Well," resumed Warde, "at the time there didn't seem to be any clue to
work on that would indicate who had done the killing. We've nothing to
do with the stampede, of course--that sort of stuff is out of my line.
But about the shooting of the men. I've got evidence now."

"Go ahead," directed the judge.

"Well, on the night of the killing two of my men were nosing around the
level near Devil's Hole, trying to locate a horse thief who had been
trailed to that section. They didn't find the horse thief, but they
saw a bunch of men sneaking around a camp fire that belonged to the
outfit which was trailin' the herd that went down in Devil's Hole.

"They didn't interfere, because they didn't know what was up. But they
saw one of the men stampede the herd, and they saw the rest of them do
the killing."

"Who did the killing?"

"Dale and his gang," declared the sheriff.

Judge Graney's eyes glowed. He sat erect and looked hard at the
sheriff.

"Who is Sanderson?" he asked.

"That's the fellow who bossed the trail herd."

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