Concerning the True Identity of Our Highwayman

"Why, you must know," I began, "we were stopped at the cross roads by a highwayman--myself and Bentley, with Captain Hammersley and Sir Harry Raikes--"

Here Bentley, returning, must needs throw himself into a chair, laughing and choking all at once.

"Raikes--" he gasped,--"in his shirt--by the Lord! Oh, egad, Jack! fluttering in the wind--"

"What in the world!" began Jack, staring. "Is he drunk or mad?"

"As I tell you," says I, loosening Bentley's cravat, "we were stopped by a highwayman--" and forthwith I plunged into an account of the whole matter.

"Egad!" cries Bentley again, breaking in ere I was half done, "here was Dick offering Raikes a choice betwixt his horsewhip and his sword--and he, look you, a full six inches shorter in the reach, while I--"

"You!" says I, "he couldn't help but pink you somewhere or other at the first pass--"

"Well, Raikes was a-sneering as I say," pursued Bentley, "when up comes our highwayman and coolly strips him to his very shirt, Jack--ties him to his horse, and parades him all through Tonbridge--rat me!--and as I tell you, the wind, Jack--'t was cursedly cold, and--and--oh! strike me purple!" Here Bentley choked again, and while I thumped his back, he and Jack rolled in their chairs, and shook the very casements with their laughter.

"His shirt?" gasped Jack at last, wiping his eyes.

"His shirt," groaned Bentley, wiping his.

"Lord!" cries Jack, "Lord! 'twill be the talk of the town," says he, after a while.