earthquake.

On rush the pack, whipping, spurring, tugging for very life. Again they
gave voice, in hopes the waggoner might succeed in stopping the
fugitive. But Dick was already by his side. "Harkee, my tulip," cried
he, taking the pipe from his mouth as he passed, "tell my friends behind
they will hear of me at York."

"What did he say?" asked Paterson, coming up the next moment.

"That you'll find him at York," replied the waggoner.

"At York!" echoed Coates, in amaze.

Turpin was now out of sight, and although our trio flogged with might
and main, they could never catch a glimpse of him until, within a short
distance of Ware, they beheld him at the door of a little public house,
standing with his bridle in his hand, coolly quaffing a tankard of ale.
No sooner were they in sight, than Dick vaulted into the saddle, and
rode off.

"Devil seize you, sir! why didn't you stop him?" exclaimed Paterson, as
he rode up. "My horse is dead lame. I cannot go any further. Do you know
what a prize you have missed? Do you know who that was?"

"No, sir, I don't," said the publican. "But I know he gave his mare more
ale than he took himself, and he has given me a guinea instead of a
shilling. He's a regular good 'un."

"A good 'un!" said Paterson; "it was Turpin, the notorious highwayman.
We are in pursuit of him. Have you any horses? our cattle are all
blown."

"You'll find the post-house in the town, gentlemen. I'm sorry I can't
accommodate you. But I keeps no stabling. I wish you a very good
evening, sir." Saying which, the publican retreated to his domicile.

"That's a flash crib, I'll be bound," said Paterson. "I'll chalk you
down, my friend, you may rely upon it. Thus far we're done, Mr. Coates.
But curse me if I give it in. I'll follow him to the world's end first."

"Right, sir--right," said the attorney. "A very proper spirit, Mr.
Constable. You would be guilty of neglecting your duty were you to act
otherwise. You must recollect my father, Mr. Paterson--Christopher, or
Kit Coates; a name as well known at the Old Bailey as Jonathan Wild's.
You recollect him--eh?"

"Perfectly well, sir," replied the chief constable.

"The greatest thief-taker, though I say it," continued Coates, "on
record. I inherit all his zeal--all his ardor. Come along, sir. We shall
have a fine moon in an hour--bright as day. To the post-house! to the
post-house!"

Accordingly to the post-house they went; and, with as little delay as
c