To see was to act, and riding toward him, Jesse shouted: "Hey, Dutchy! Chase that horse lively and bring him back!" "Mein gracious! I can't," protested the farmer. "You'll either do it or die! Which do you prefer?" And the terrible outlaw whipped out his "Colts." "Ach, Himmel! I kotch him! I kotch him!" returned the terrified German. Heading his bays after the runaway, the farmer set them at a gallop. Satisfied that the pony would soon be restored to them, the bandit-chieftain ordered his men to draw their guns and form a circle around the recovered money, that their evident purpose of guarding their treasure might warn off any would-be rescuers. But as the quartette looked down the thoroughfare toward the bank they were alarmed to see a body of horsemen gather in front of the institution. The distance between them was just about a mile, too short for safety. "If that Dutchman doesn't come back with John's horse, he'll have to double up with Jim when the posse gets half-way to us. I'll tie the money-sack to my saddle pommel. If they press us too hard, we'll give 'em a battle!" Instantly the desperadoes prepared to mount. "Hoopla! Here come's Dutchy with my horse!" cried John, looking up the street. "And here come a dozen man-hunters!" retorted Jesse, as the troop left the bank. Anxiously the desperadoes watched the race. "Better mount," snapped the world-famous outlaw as the posse neared the half-way mark he had chosen as the limit of safety. "Hey, you beer guzzler! Hurry up with that mare or I'll plug you full of lead!" bellowed John, pointing his rifle at the German. "Ach, Himmel! Don't shoot!" implored the latter. "I coom in chust a second." Inspired by the desire to save his skin, the farmer lashed his bays furiously, dragging the captured runaway by a halter he had tied around her neck. Darting forward to meet him as he drew near, John yelled: "Fling me the rope!" Glad to be free of his blood-thirsty employers, the fellow hurled the halter-end at the bandit as he clattered past in his wagon, never looking around to see whether it was caught or not. But a shout of joy from behind told him that it had been. Yet scarcely had it died away when a howl of fury from in front warned him that the posse did not approve his actions and, in fear of being made to pay a penalty for lending aid to the robbers, he yanked his bays into a side street, taking the corner on two wheels. Tarrying not to battle with their pursuers, the desperadoes continued their course northward. Their ponies, however, were tired from the hard riding of the past few days and those of the posse rapidly overhauled them. "I guess it's fight after all," snarled Jesse. "Be ready to halt and fire when I give the word." But the next moment he was roused to fresh fury by the command bellowed at him: "Surrender! We've got you at our mercy!" Reining in his mount, the great outlaw sneered: