ever yet been robbed,
nor do I think it likely I shall be to-night; so, Robert, get my horse
ready," calling to the hostler. "Well, but have you any weapons of
defence?" inquired the publican.--"No, nor none I want," responded the
farmer. The innkeeper pressed him to take a pair of holster pistols;
saying, "he might find them handy;" and after a great deal of
persuasion, he agreed to take _one_, the publican first loading and
charging it with ball. The farmer put the pistol in his great coat
pocket, and was on the point of departure when he recollected that he
had to get a pound of tea at a grocer's shop in the town, a few doors
from the inn. He instantly ran to the shop for the tea, and while the
grocer was serving him he made the same remark as the innkeeper had
done respecting his going home with so considerable a sum as he knew
the farmer had about him. The farmer made answer, "I am going home
to-night, but our friend the publican, has lent me a pistol; and if
any one interrupts me, I intend to blow his brains out."--"Do you
know," said the grocer, "I do not like that fellow. Will you let me
look at the pistol if you have it with you."--"O yes, look at it if
you like. I never fired a pistol in my life; however, should I be
stopped, I think I could manage it." The grocer took the pistol; drew
the charge; and found, to the great surprise of the farmer, it was
only loaded with horse-dung, and a large bullet at the top. "I thought
he was a rascal, and this confirms it." said the grocer. "Here is
evidently a plot; now leave your money with me; we will load this
pistol properly, and you can, if you like, proceed on your journey:
it may be the means of detecting some one."

The farmer left his money in the hands of the grocer; went back to the
inn; mounted his horse, and rode off on his journey. About a mile
from Dunmow, he was stopped by a fellow, well mounted, who instantly
demanded his money. "I have not got any," replied the farmer, "but I
have a pistol, with which, if you do not instantly allow me to pass on
my way home, I will blow your brains out." "You have got money--and as
to the pistol, you may blow away--blow away, my fine fellow," said the
chuckling highwayman. The farmer instantly fired, and his assailant
fell off his horse to the ground with a groan. The farmer galloped
back to the inn, and inquired of the hostler where his master was.
"He has been gone out, on horseback, about a quarter of an hour,"
the ho