me in the discharge of my duty?"

"That may be, or it may not be," said the man, doggedly. "But you don't
pass, unless I gets the blunt, and that's the long and short on it."

Amidst a storm of oaths, Coates flung down a crown piece, and the gate
was thrown open.

Turpin took advantage of this delay to breathe his mare; and, striking
into a by-lane at Duckett's Green, cantered easily along in the
direction of Tottenham. Little repose was allowed him. Yelling like a
pack of hounds in full cry, his pursuers were again at his heels. He had
now to run the gauntlet of the long straggling town of Tottenham, and
various were the devices of the populace to entrap him. The whole place
was up in arms, shouting, screaming, running, dancing, and hurling every
possible description of missile at the horse and her rider. Dick merrily
responded to their clamor as he flew past, and laughed at the brickbats
that were showered thick as hail, and quite as harmlessly, around him.

A few more miles' hard riding tired the volunteers, and before the chase
reached Edmonton most of them were "_nowhere_." Here fresh relays were
gathered, and a strong field was again mustered. John Gilpin himself
could not have excited more astonishment amongst the good folks of
Edmonton, than did our highwayman as he galloped through their town.
Unlike the men of Tottenham, the mob received him with acclamations,
thinking, no doubt, that, like "the citizens of famous London town," he
rode for a wager. Presently, however, borne on the wings of the blast,
came the cries of "Turpin! Dick Turpin!" and the hurrahs were changed to
hootings; but such was the rate at which our highwayman rode, that no
serious opposition could be offered to him.

A man in a donkey-cart, unable to get out of the way, drew himself up in
the middle of the road. Turpin treated him as he had done the _dub_ at
the _knapping jigger_, and cleared the driver and his little wain with
ease. This was a capital stroke, and well adapted to please the
multitude, who are ever taken with a brilliant action. "Hark away,
Dick!" resounded on all hands, while hisses were as liberally bestowed
upon his pursuers.

_CHAPTER V_

_THE SHORT PIPE_

The Peons are capital horsemen, and several times we saw them, at a
gallop, throw the rein on the horse's neck, take from one pocket a
bag of loose tobacco, and, with a piece of paper, or a leaf of
Indian corn, make a cigar, and then take o