But his paroxysm of rage lasted only a moment and when Jim returned with the groceries and provisions half an hour later, they were laughing and joking as they struggled to make the battered stove do its duty. When the supplies had been transferred from the wagon to the house, Jesse bade his chum wait upon the girl while he transacted a little business and without giving either Daisy or Jim a chance to object, went from the house, jumping up beside the driver of the grocery wagon whom he ordered to drive as fast as he could to the home of Hiram Rozier. The curiosity of the villager excited by the unheard-of order for provisions for the Shaws, the fellow sought to learn Jesse's relation to the family who were sneeringly alluded to as "poor white trash" by their more prosperous neighbours. Deeming it advisable to offer some explanation, the world-famous desperado amused himself during the drive by unfolding a wondrous tale of a long-lost sister, stolen by gypsies when she was a tot, found in the person of Daisy Shaw. "Here we be to Hiram's," announced the fellow, as he pulled up in front of a big white house, the blinds on the front of which were all shut tight. "Shall you want me any more?" In the tone was a mixture of desire to impart the choice bit of gossip of the returned brother to his cronies at the store and reluctance to leave the stranger lest he miss something. Smiling at it, Jesse replied: "If you can, I should be obliged if you would listen to my conversation with Mr. Rozier. I may want a witness." Here was mystery indeed--the long-lost brother of Daisy Shaw desiring a witness to a conversation with the richest man in town! And in his haste to descend from the wagon, the clerk caught his foot in the reins and would have fallen had not the bandit-chieftain caught him. Going boldly up to the front door, his companion following at a safe distance, Jesse lifted the old fashioned brass knocker and let it fall with a resounding rap. In a few moments shuffling steps sounded and a man, whose face, though older and topped with white locks, was a counterpart of the banker's at Monegaw Springs, opened the door, demanding gruffly: "What do you want?" "Is this Mr. Hiram Rozier?" asked the famous desperado. "It is." Assured on this point, Jesse went to the point without any preliminaries: "You stole Mrs. Thomas Shaw's cow from her today, didn't you?" "Stole her cow? No, sir! How dare you say such a thing?" thundered the infuriated man. "Don't raise your voice--unless you want your neighbors to hear," retorted his interrogator, coolly. "You did steal it _and you know you did_! There was a mortgage on it but it wasn't due till day after tomorrow. "_I've come to take back that cow!_" Dropping his bombastic manner, Hiram Rosier whined: