Scarcely was William gone, when the doctor’s wife coming home from the market, and going into the room, saw the bed taken down, and came running in a great passion to her husband, exclaiming, “Why, truly, this is a most strange business, that I can never stir out of doors, but you must be making some whimsical alteration or other in the house!”--“What’s the matter,” replied the doctor, “with the woman? Are you beside yourself?”--“No,” said the wife, “but truly you are, in thus altering things as you do, almost every moment!” “Certainly, my dear,” replied the doctor, “you must have been spending your market-penny, or else you would not talk at this rate, as you do, of alterations, when not the smallest have been made since you have gone out.”--“I am not blind, I think,” retorted the wife, “for I am sure the bed is taken out of the two-pair-of-stairs back room; and pray, husband, where do you design to put it now?” The doctor and his son then went up-stairs, and not only found that the bed was stolen, but that they had assisted the thief to carry it off. Our hero next resolved to try his fortune upon the highway, and meeting with a sharper on the road, commanded him to “stand and deliver!” He robbed him of two pence half-penny, when the sharper remarked, that “the world was come indeed to a very sad pass, when one rogue must prey upon another.” He next robbed a man of twelve shillings and a pair of silver buckles. From thence he proceeded to rifle a stage-coach, and took away some money and a silver watch. Not long after, he robbed Mr. Dashwood and his lady of a gold watch and money. These, however, were only smaller exhibitions of his dexterity. One evening, well mounted, he passed through Richmond, and perceiving a gentleman walking in his gardens, inquired of the gardener if he might be permitted to view the gardens, of which he had heard so much.