282 HIGHWAYS AND HORSES. 



"Stop — surrender, or I'll fire!" exclaimed Dick. 



Mr. Major, relying upon the excellence of his 

 horse, put still more ground between them. 



"By gad!" muttered Dick, "I'll be as good as 

 my word. He's best mounted, but he sha'n't escape 

 me ! 



He raised his horseman's pistol to his eye, and 

 took as steady aim as his position would permit. A 

 bystander might easily have seen, however, that his 

 practised hand was directed far below the level of the 

 flying rider before him. 



White-stockings shrank momentarily as he felt the 

 sharp cut of the ball ; but on a hint from the armed 

 heel of his rider, again " laid out." 



A trickling stream of sanguine colour showed itself 

 down his fine white shank. Turpin eyed it with a 

 smile. Nevertheless, the horse was doing its utmost, 

 but the mare. Black Bess, not only held her own, 

 but was fast gaining on him ; but alas, they were 

 now at Friday Hill, within a mile of Woodford 

 Wells. 



Turpin drew his remaining pistol. 



" Stop ! I warn you ! " exclaimed he in a deter- 

 mined tone. 



The only reply the fugitive deigned to make to 

 this summons was to place one hand behind him and 

 discharge a pistol without aim. 



Dick raised his weapon on a level with his 

 shoulder, but let it fall again, as if hesitating whether 

 he should throw away his last shot. 



"I must, or he will escape. I'll chance it!" 



Again was a low aim taken ; again the sharp crack 

 echoed — the smoke curled along the air — two bounds 

 upon three legs — a sob — an abortive attempt at a 



