Suddenly he espied Frank running down the steps of the store. Like his younger brother, Frank also bore a gunny sack and from the manner in which Frank was carrying it, Jesse understood that his brother had succeeded in his mission of plunder. Frank swung into his saddle under a perfect storm of bullets. With a wild whoop and a savage yell the great desperado and his immediate companions dug the rowels of their spurs into their horses and charged down on the crowd. The mob taken suddenly by surprise at this attack on their flank, ceased firing and fell swiftly back. "Forward!" roared the great desperado. Frank and his men heard and understood. Their horses sprang away under the pressure of the cruel spurs. Now Jesse and his companions thundered down on the crowd in the wake of the first line of fleeing desperadoes. All at once a slight, wiry figure sprang out into the middle of the street. "Halt! I know you, Jesse James." But the desperado threw himself suddenly forward on the neck of his horse as the sheriff's bullets sang over him so close to his head that he could feel the hair on the top of his head, slightly pulled back by the sudden suction of air from the leaden pellets. Both his revolvers flashed up on either side of the horse's neck. They barked in unison and the sheriff fell dead. The outlaw's horse leaping over the body of the fallen officer of the law, sped away. Jesse rose in his saddle and sent a volley of shots from his Winchester into the crowd in his rear. Then he was obliged to cease firing because of the fear of hitting one of his own men, whose bodies were now between him and the mob. The men had swung half way round in their saddles, reins on their horses' necks, and were pumping lead into the mad mob with deadly effect. Jesse fired a signal shot high into the air. Their fusilade suddenly ceased. With a wild, blood-curdling yell, the desperadoes dug their spurs deep into the sleek sides of the sensitive thoroughbreds and sped off like the wind headed for the protection of the mountain fastness. CHAPTER XVIII. CONCLUSION. Not until the shadows of night were falling did the desperate band halt to make camp. So far as they had been able to observe there had been no organized pursuit of them attempted. But they knew full well that they would not be permitted to escape without some effort being made to apprehend them. But instead of following on south as they had started, Jesse after an hour or so changed his course and turned due east, thus carrying them away at right angles to the scene of their late operations. This, he reasoned shrewdly would send any posse that might follow them, off on a blind trail for a long distance before they discovered their mistake. To accomplish this the men had to dismount and lead their horses up a steep mountain side where the least misstep would have precipitated them to certain death on the rocks below.