"Take your place beside me, boy. All ready, men." Three or four miles the posse rode in silence, then, rounding a turn in the highway, they caught sight of a farmhouse and buildings which the supposed miners were told were Consollas'. Increasing their speed, the posse galloped along when all at once a shrill neigh sounded from the woods beside them and directly a horse broke through the underbrush and stopped with its head over the fence. "That's the roan! That's Consollas' mare!" cried several voices at once. Amazed, the great outlaw ordered a halt, then demanded: "Are you sure?" "Positive. I'd know her anywhere," chorused several of the surprised members of the posse. For a moment Jesse looked at the animal intently. In general form and colour she resembled his own, back at the camp-ground, but none of the fine points of the thoroughbred did she possess. Turning full upon the ashen-hued youth, the world-famous bandit snarled, with a blood-curdling oath: "Is that the mare your father accused me of stealing?" Too terrified at the demeanor of the wrathful man before him to realize the pitfall in the question, Consollas blurted: "Yes." A buzz of amazed exchange of opinions had broken from the men in the party at the unexpected appearance of the roan, but at Jesse's question they grew silent. "When did you leave the Springs?" "About an hour and a half ago." "Then you couldn't have heard your father claim my mare as his." The utterance produced a sensation among the posse. But ere they could recover from it, the inquisitor roared: "If you weren't at the camp ground, how did you know your father accused me?" "I didn't," growled the boy. "But you just said you did. When I asked you if that mare by the fence was the one your father charged me with stealing, you said 'yes.' _Now, how did you know if you weren't at the camp ground?_" Realizing when it was too late, that he had been trapped, the fellow maintained a sullen silence. "Answer me!" bellowed Jesse. But the lad only cowered in his saddle. "There's dirty work somewhere," declared Jesse, addressing his companions, "and I intend to find out _where_. "Now, sirrah, will you answer me?" and he thrust the muzzle of his six-shooter against the youth's head. "Don't kill him! He's foolish!" cried a voice. "Then let him answer," retorted the great outlaw. "No one can accuse me of being a horse thief and get away with it when the stolen nag is in her own pasture all the time. "_There's something at the bottom of all this and I intend to find it out!_" Acquiescing in the justice of Jesse's stand, the others stared at the quaking boy. "You'd best make a clean breast of it," counselled the bandit-chieftain, "you won't get any aid from these gentlemen. "Just tell me how you knew I was to be accused." An instant the helpless conspirator said nothing. With a wink at the members of the posse, Jesse clicked the hammer of his "Colt."