Upon inquiry, it was found that Turpin had actually been at the house which King mentioned, and made use of something like the following expressions to the man. “What shall I do? where shall I go? Dick Bayes, I’ll be the death of you; for I have lost the best fellowman I ever had in my life; I shot poor King in endeavoring to kill that dog.” The same resolution of revenge he retained to the last, though without the power of effecting it. After this, he still kept about the forest, till he was harassed almost to death; for he had lost his place of safety, the cave, which was discovered upon his shooting Mr. Thompson’s groom. When they found the cave, there were in it two shirts in a bag, two pair of stockings, part of a bottle of wine, and some ham. Turpin was very nearly taken while hiding in these woods by a Mr. Ives, the king’s huntsman, who, thinking he was secreted there, took out two dry-footed hounds; but Turpin perceiving them coming, climbed up a tree, and saw them stop beneath it several times, as though they scented him, which so terrified Turpin, that as soon as they were gone, he made a resolution of retiring that instant to Yorkshire. Soon after this, a person came out of Lincolnshire to Brough, near Market-Cave, in Yorkshire, and stayed for some time at the Ferry-house. He said his name was John Palmer; and he went from thence sometimes to live at North Cave, and sometimes at Welton, continuing in these places about fifteen or sixteen months, except such part of the time as he went to Lincolnshire to see his friends, which he frequently did, and as often brought three or four horses back with him, which he used to sell or exchange in Yorkshire. While he so lived at Brough, Cave, and Welton, he very often went out hunting and shooting with the gentlemen in the neighborhood. As he was returning one day from shooting, he saw one of his landlord’s cocks in the street, and raising his gun shot it dead. A man, his neighbor, witnessing so wanton an act, complained of such conduct, asking him by what authority he shot another man’s property. “Wait one moment,” said Mr. Palmer, “just stay till I have charged my piece, and I’ll shoot you too.” The landlord being informed of the loss he had sustained by the death of his favorite bird, and the man who saw the act being enraged at the threat Palmer had used towards him, they both obtained a warrant against him, and he was brought up at the general quarter sessions, where he was examined. Sureties for his good behavior in future were the penalty alone exacted from him, which, however, refusing to find, he was committed to the house of correction. His conduct thus excited great suspicion; for it was strange that a man who was in the habit of bringing from his friends in Lincolnshire half-a-dozen horses at a time, and plenty of money, should be so forsaken as not to be able to provide sureties; and still stranger, that on so trivial an occasion as the present, if he could