“I’ll ketch him,” cried Ashbrook, “please the pigs,” and he forthwith put spurs to his horse and galloped after the fugitives.
Of course the Dandy ran his hardest, but he was soon overtaken by the horseman.
“Ye beant a goin’ to gi’ us the slip, ye circumwenting young vagabond. Not if I know it,” cried the farmer, as he came up with the runaway. “Hold hard, you scoundrel. The game is up, and so surrender.”
“I’ll have my revenge upon you some time or another,” said Sutherland. “What business had you to show your ugly mug here?”
“Don’t ee gi’ me any more of your cheek. If ee do, I’ll spoil your beauty for the next three months at the very least.”
And with these words the farmer rode full at the fugitive, whom he collared and dragged along for some distance.
“You will have to answer for this. I shall bring an action against you for assault and battery,” cried the Dandy.
“Ah! oh! it be you, Mister Fortescue—be it? Glad we ha’ met. So, my beauty, you are run to earth—eh? Don’t ee think to get away ’cause you see the ’pleece want ee, and what is more I want the ’pleece to ha’ ee, so it be no manner of yoose yer strivin’ to get clear off. Hilloa there, I’ve cotched ’im,” cried Ashbrook, shouting out at the top of his voice to the detective.”
Mr. Sutherland strove in vain to slip out of the hands of the farmer, who was altogether too strong for him.
Panting and perspiring from every pore, the detective came up with the runaway, and while the farmer held him the officer clapped on his wrists a pair of handcuffs, and made him his prisoner once more. He had now no chance of making his escape, and was therefore fain to submit quietly.