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.