Questing one day up and down the road, like the ravens in search of food, he met an honest tradesman. They rode together for some time, when Avery asked him what trade he followed. The man replied that he was a fishmonger, and, with a polite show of interest, asked Avery's trade.
"Why," said the highwayman, "I am a limb of St. Peter also."
"What!" exclaimed the other, astonished, "are you a fishmonger too? Indeed, I don't understand your meaning, sir."
Whereupon Avery, pulling out his pistol, coolly observed: "My meaning may soon be comprehended, for there's not a finger upon my hand but will catch gold or silver, without any bait at all." So, taking all the unfortunate man possessed, and cutting the girth and bridle of his horse, to delay any likelihood of pursuit, he rode off for London.
On another occasion he met an exciseman on Finchley Common. The exciseman would not deliver his money until Avery had shot his horse dead and threatened to do the like to him. Then, daunted by Avery's terribly high words, and almost frightened out of his wits to hear what dreadful volleys of oaths came out of his mouth, he stopped it as soon as he could with twelve pounds, saying: "Here, take what I have, for if there be a devil, certainly thou art one."
"It may be so," replied Avery, "but yet much of a devil though I am, I see an exciseman is not so good a bait to catch him as some people would make out."
"No, he is not," returned the exciseman; "the hangman is the only bait to catch such devils as you."
It was ill work, as a rule, exchanging insults with a highway gentleman, but Avery, content with the main thing, rode off unmoved. He was hanged at last, at Tyburn, January 31st, 1713.
Dick Adams, who derived from Gloucestershire and at an early age was in the service of a respectable Duchess (their Graces, you know, were not all what they might have been, in the way of personal character, in the seventeenth century), at last found his way into the Life Guards, but as his pay did not suffice to support his extravagance, he sometimes collected upon the highway. With some of his companions of the road, he on one occasion robbed a gentleman of a gold watch and a purse of a hundred and twenty guineas. Now observe how the greedy are made to suffer for their greediness! Not content with their fine booty, he must needs covet the gentleman's coat; and so cantered after him, saying: "Sir, you have got a very fine coat on; I must make bold to exchange with you;" and off the coat had to come, and the traveller went angry away. Presently however, as he was riding along in that shabby misfit, he thought he heard something jingling in a pocket; something that sounded very differently from the jingling of his horse's bridle. Thrusting in his hand, he, to his astonishment, found his watch and all his money that Adams in his hurry had forgotten to remove out of the pockets of his own coat when this exchange, which certainly proved, after all, to be no robbery, was made.
We may dwell a moment upon the rage of Adams and his party, when they came to the next hedgeside inn and sat down to examine their gains, which had thus vanished away, like the early dews of morning.