If indeed it were the great outlaw himself who stood under the spreading trees whence had come the warning sound, they knew he would not move for some time. Not until he had waited the effect of his incautious step would he move a muscle of his body, and perhaps he would be standing with one foot poised in the air, every sense keenly alert, his eyes piercing the shadows with almost superhuman vision.
To such extremes are men's senses trained, who live in momentary expectation of the blinding crash and the bullet between the eyes.
Their eyes suddenly began to blink. They could scarcely credit what they saw.
Right in the middle of the moonlit space, as if he had risen from the ground, stood the great outlaw himself.
How he had come there without their observing him, was beyond their understanding.
He was standing behind a large boulder, hat tipped back, his features plainly outlined in the brilliant moonlight, nose and face tipped upward as if scenting danger in the air.
Twenty trigger fingers twitched nervously, and as many Winchesters swung silently until they focused on the figure no more than twenty paces distant.
The great desperado poised there like a statue, hands and arms hanging listlessly at his sides, guns in their holsters as if there was no expectation of their being needed for instant use.
But this did not deceive Uncle Sam's Indian fighters. They were too familiar with Jesse James' reputation for quickness on the trigger not to understand that the mere glint of a moonbeam along a rifle barrel would mean death to the soldier behind it almost before he could pull his own trigger.
Like a blow in the face came the sudden command:
Both the desperadoe's "Colts" spoke in a single explosion, and the Captain yelled with pain as a bullet tore through one arm.
The roar of the heavy Winchesters sent the leaves of the trees a rustling and even the rocks and earth catching up the note, responded with a tremor.
Dimly they could see the figure of the outlaw stretched out on the ground in the shadow of the boulder after the smoke had drifted away.
Just before leaving the cave the great desperado had whispered a word of command to Tony and Texas.
But the nature of the orders so secretly conveyed the others did not know, and none save Frank felt licensed to make inquiry, for Jesse was apt to administer a sharp rebuke that the inquisitive one would not soon forget.