He had asked Maison to take the oath, and the banker had taken it.
Thus it seemed he had entered into the contract in good faith.

If he had not, and there was something wrong about the deal, Maison had recourse to the law, and the judge would have aided him.
But nothing had come of it; Maison had said nothing, had lodged no complaint.
But the judge had kept the case in mind.
Late in the afternoon 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.