As people watch a sleeping animal in a menagerie, hoping that it may rouse itself and do something, so the throng watched the closed flap of the supposed miners' tent after having hurriedly verified the fact that only the roan mare was left where the three horses had been at twilight. One family at the resort there was, however, who were ignorant of the change in the personnel of occupiers of the tent--the Roziers. Agog over the coming of the detectives and the events the day would disclose, the banker and his son had got up at an hour unheard of for them and driven to the station in two carriages that they might get the sleuths from the depot to their house in the least possible time and with the least possible publicity. Surprise at their appearance was forgotten by the regular hack and 'bus drivers in their eagerness to secure fares from the arrivals by the train and when they did remember them the Rozier turnouts were nowhere to be seen. With little difficulty, the president of the savings institution had picked out the detectives. Quickly assuring himself that he was right, he bundled them into the carriages and drove them rapidly to his home. Declining to broach the reason for their summons till the men had breakfasted, the banker took them to his den as soon as the meal was finished. Employing the same precautions against eavesdroppers that he had when talking with his son, Mr. Rozier motioned them to chairs, offered them cigars and, taking his place at his desk, laid the case before them. "Allow me to compliment you, sir, on your lucid exposition of the facts," remarked the man in charge of the detectives, patronizingly, as the banker concluded. "If I had been directing the case myself I couldn't have done it better. "May I suggest that young Mr. Rozier be sent on his mission at once? The sooner he makes a report on the case, the sooner shall we be able to get to work." Acquiescing readily, the bank president ordered his son to start, with the injunction to keep his head about him. Astonished at the crowd surrounding his destination so early, young Rozier quickly learned its cause. Perplexed by the information, he nevertheless elbowed his way to the still closed tent flap. After vainly trying to attract the attention of the inmates by scratching on the canvas, he called: "I say, Mr. Howard, let a fellow in, won't you? I'm Rozier, Forman A. Rozier, Jr." Although the outlaws had heard the first tampering with the tent, they made no move till the request was uttered. "The fun's begun," breathed Jesse to his chums as he got up from his camp stool and unbuttoned the flap. Inwardly glad that it was the boy instead of his father against whom he was to match his brains, for that the visit would develop into a battle of wits he had no doubt, the world-famous bandit threw open the canvas, exclaiming blandly: