The desk of the cashier was at the end of the counter next to the side street, evidently so placed that the official might converse with customers without being heard by any others who might be in the bank. And directly behind the desk the massive steel doors of the vault were visible. "It's only seven-thirty," declared Jesse, looking at his watch when they had passed the bank. "Let's drop into the hotel and look at yesterday's newspapers. I'd lake to see what they have to say about the shindy at the Springs." No better way of spending the hour and a half they were forced to wait suggesting itself, the quartette entered the village Inn and were soon engrossed in the fantastic report of Jesse's escape from the health resort. Beyond the usual, exaggerated account of the number of his companions, there was nothing that caused them concern. But the perusal served as an excellent "kill time" and it was with a start that the great outlaw noticed the hands on the Inn clock pointing to quarter before nine. "It's time to get the horses," he declared, rising. Without the quiver of an eyelash to betray their intense excitement, now that the time for action was at hand, the others got up and left the hostelry. Quickening their pace as they reached the street, they were soon at the livery stable and as the village clock struck the hour of nine, they cantered leisurely past the bank into the side street where Cole and his chief dismounted, leaving their horses in charge of Jim and John. "Watch out for people who look as though they were going to enter the bank. _And shoot 'em before they do so!_" whispered the world-famous desperado as he gave the reins of his pony to Jim. No hour of the day could have been more auspicious for the outlaws! So early was it that few women were upon the street on shopping bent, the merchants were busy reading their morning mail and those of the citizens who worked had gone to their labours hours before. Passing around onto the main street, for there was only one door to the Savings Association Bank, and that on the front side, Jesse and Cole mounted the two steps and entered the institution. But as they opened the door they received a shock! Standing beside the cashier was Forman A. Rozier, Jr.! In obedience to his father's command, the lad had come to Ste. Genevieve to warn Mr. Harris of his president's fears. With the easy confidence of youth, he had added, on his own responsibility, that he thought his sire was unduly alarmed and that Jesse would have too much to do to get away from the posse at the Springs to think of wreaking his vengeance upon the bank. Yet all the money, save about $10,000, had been sent to Kansas City as the elder Rozier wished. No sign did either the bandit-chieftain or his pal make, however, that would disclose their surprise at his presence. The cashier and the son of the banker were chatting together when Jesse suddenly whipped out his trusty "Colts" and covered them, hissing: