The grin angered Maison; he arose smiling coldly.
"I am sorry to have taken your time, Mr.Bransford," he said, dismissing his visitor.
Sanderson did not give up.

"My father left some money in your bank," he said; "I'll take it." "Certainly," said the banker.

He got a withdrawal blank and laid it before Sanderson.
"The amount is three thousand two hundred," he said.

"Just fill that out and sign your name and yon can have the money." Sanderson did not sign; he sat, looking at the blank, suddenly afflicted with the knowledge that once more the troublesome "Bransford" signature had placed him in a dilemma.
Undoubtedly Maison, Silverthorn, and Dale were confederates in this matter, and Dale's insistence that he sign the register claim was a mere subterfuge to obtain a copy of the Bransford signature in order to make trouble for him.

It occurred to Sanderson that the men suspected him, and he grinned coldly as he raised his eyes to Maison.
Maison was watching him, keenly; and his flush when he saw Sanderson looking at him convinced the latter that his suspicions were not without foundation.
If Sanderson could have known that he had hardly left the hotel when a man whispered to Maison; and that Maison had said to the man: "All right, I'll go down and wait for him," Sanderson could not have more accurately interpreted Maison's flush.
Sanderson's grin grew grim.