What's your plan ?" "Why, simple pursuit.

We have the _posse comitatus_." "The _posse comitatus!_--the posse devil; what do the tories care about the posse comitatus?
Have you bloodhounds ?" "No, my lord, but I think we can procure them." "Because," proceeded his lordship, "to go hunt a tory without bloodhounds is like looking for your grandmother's needle in a bottle of straw." "I am thankful to your lordship for that hint," replied Harry Woodward; "but the truth is, I have been almost since my infancy out of the country, and am consequently, very ignorant of its usages." "What particular tory are you going to hunt ?'" "A fellow named Shawn-na-Middogue." [Illustration: PAGE 736-- _Shawn-na-Middogue_, your mother's victim] "Ah! _Shawn-na-Middogue_, your mother's victim?
Don't hunt him.

If you're wise you'll keep your distance from that young fellow.

I tell you, Mr.
Woodward, there will be more danger to yourself in the hunt than there will be to him.

It's a well-known fact that it was your mother's severity to his family that made a tory of him; and, as I said before, I would strongly recommend you to avoid him.