Fairchild absently examined the engines and pumps, supplying water to the radiators and filling an oil cup or two.

Then he turned swiftly, voicing that which was uppermost in his mind.
"When you were here before, Harry, did you know a Judge Richmond ?" "Yeh." Harry pawed his mustache and made a greasy, black mark on his face.

"But I don't think I want to know 'im now." "Why not ?" "'E's mixed up with the Rodaines." "How much ?" "They own 'im--that's all." There was silence for a moment.

It had been something which Fairchild had not expected.

If the Rodaines owned Judge Richmond, how far did that ownership extend?
After a long time, he forced himself to a statement.
"I know his daughter." "You ?" Harry straightened.