A few months ago, a farmer living a few miles from Easton, sent his
daughter on horseback to that town, to procure from the bank smaller
notes in exchange for one of one hundred dollars. When she arrived
there the bank was shut, and she endeavoured to effect her object by
offering it at several stores, but could not get her note changed.
She had not gone far on her return, when a stranger rode up to the
side of her horse, and accosted her with so much politeness that she
had not the slightest suspicion of any evil intention on his part.
After a ride of a mile or two, employed in very social conversation,
they came to a retired part of the road, and the gentleman commanded
her to give him the bank note. It was with some difficulty that she
could be made to believe him in earnest, as his demeanour had been
so friendly; but the presentation of a pistol placed the matter
beyond a doubt, and she yielded to necessity. Just as she held
the note to him, a sudden puff of wind blew it into the road, and
carried it gently several yards from them. The discourteous knight
alighted to overtake it, and the lady whipped her horse to get out
of his power, and the other horse who had been left standing by her
side, started off with her. His owner fired a pistol, which only
tended to increase the speed of all parties, and the young lady
arrived safely at home with the horse of the robber, on which was
a pair of saddlebags. When these were opened, they were found to
contain, besides a quantity of counterfeit bank notes, _fifteen
hundred dollars in good money_! The horse was a good one, and when
saddled and bridled, was thought to be worth at least as much as the
bank note that was stolen.
As this story is somewhat wonderful, I enclose you my name as a
voucher for the truth of it, and am yours, &c.
[_Nat. Recorder_.