The possibility that they were officers sent out by Hiram Rozier was discussed but no decision could they come to and it was with feelings of relief that they watched the day dawn.
Pausing in a dense copse for breakfast, they devoured the lunch provided by Daisy and took turns at sleeping till about ten o'clock when they once more took up their course.
Riding in the shelter of the woods, the outlaws covered many miles before sundown when they again rested.
Forced to be content with smoking their pipes and tightening their belts in lieu of supper, they stopped only long enough to feed their mounts, then entered upon the final stage of their cross-state dash.
In contrast to the two previous nights, the moon rose clear, enabling them the better to see the roadway and thus make faster time.
No untoward incidents occurred. Not a traveller did they meet and at six o'clock in the morning they rode into Ste. Genevieve.
Founded by the Catholics in the early part of the eighteenth century, the town had grown in wealth and population steadily. The old French families had imparted a courtliness and refinement that distinguished it from other villages when the horde of home-seekers flocked across the "Big Muddy," lured by dreams of wealth and happiness to be found beyond its shores.
With a thrift inherited from their forebears, the inhabitants saved their money and Jim had not been wrong when he had declared that Rozier's bank usually carried upwards of $100,000 in its vaults.
The air was redolent with the fragrance of Spring as Jesse, Jim, John and Cole rode through the streets, their minds bent upon a crime against the citizens.
Stopping at the first livery stable to which they came, the outlaws ordered their horses fed and inquired the way to the nearest good restaurant.