on the head is clear to me. Still, it was not kind of you to hit me on the same spot twice."
He now arose from his mournful seat on the ground, and, still rubbing his pate, he asked me to follow him. We moved from the highway into a very narrow lane, and for some time proceeded in silence.
"'T is a regular dog's life," spoke Jem Bottles after a period of reflection.
By this time I had grown a strong sympathy for my scoundrel.
"Come, cheer yourself, Jem Bottles," said I. "I have known a lesser ruffian who was hanged until he was dry, whereas you march along the lane with nought to your discouragement but three cracks in your crown."
"'T is not the cracks in the crown," he answered moodily. "'T is what my mother will say."
"I had no thought that highwaymen had mothers," said I. I had resolved now to take care of his pride, for I saw that he was bound to be considered a great highwayman, and I did not wish to disturb his feelings until I gained possession of one of the horses. But now he grew as indignant as he dared.
"Mother? Mother, sir? Do you think me an illegitimate child? I say to you flat in your face, even if you kill me the next instant, that I have a mother. Perchance I am not of the lofty gentry who go about beating honest highwaymen to the earth, but I repulse with scorn any man's suggestion that I am illegitimate. In a quarter of an hour you shall see my mother for yourself."
"Peace, Jem Bottles," said I soothingly. "I took no thought of such a thing. I would be thinking only of
