How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. “I’m just in time to say good-bye before I go, father. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem.
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