With this parting shot, whose meaning there was no mistaking, the world-famous desperado turned his back on the banker's son and the detective who posed as a capitalist, motioned to Clell and Cole to enter the tent and followed, taking the wine from the latter, while the crowd gasped at the public affront and the startling innuendo. For the second time Jesse had outwitted the banker. But he was playing a desperate game. And danger, of which he never dreamed, looming dark and terrible, was closing in on him even in the moment of his triumph! CHAPTER VIII. AN UNEXPECTED COMPLICATION. Protected by the heavy canvas from the impertinent stares of the patrons of the medicinal waters, the three outlaws looked at one another and then at the package presented to them in silence. "Jess, you sure are a corker," exclaimed Clell in undisguised admiration. "Whatever put it into your head to charge Dillaby with being a thief?" Smiling at the tribute to his cleverness, the great outlaw replied: "I wanted to find out whether he was acting in conjunction with the Roziers or whether he had traced us here in some way and merely chanced to hit upon the banker's son when he sought to learn where our camp was." "Well, you found out all right, all right," commented Cole. "I certainly did," chuckled his leader. "I'd give a good deal to hear what Dillaby says when he reports to the old man. They'll go almost nutty in trying to decide if we are on to the fact that his friends the capitalists are really detectives." "And while they're puzzling over it, why wouldn't it be the wisest move for us to vamoose?" inquired Clell. "Did you ever know me to run away under fire?" retorted his leader, answering one question with another. "That's all right, but there's such a thing as going too far. 'Three times and out,' you know. You may have got the best of them twice, but will you come off so well the third time?" "You forget that we have one great advantage; we know exactly who they are while they are all up in the air as to our identities. "_I'm going to fight old Rozier to the last ditch!_" But within three short hours Jesse was destined bitterly to repent his decision and to regret that he had not followed his chum's advice. No premonition did they have of the storm that was about to break around their heads, however, and, flushed with their success in the two encounters they had had with their enemies, the bandits prepared for a master stroke. Springing to his feet as an idea flashed into his mind, the great outlaw seized the package and opened it. Picking up one of the bottles, he turned it round and round in his hand, gazing intently at the cork. "Ha! Look here," he exclaimed, all of a sudden. As his pals examined the bottle, he went on, excitedly: "I've got old Rozier where I want him! This cork has been drawn out and put back! You can see beside the wires, there, where it's been cut."