Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. " "Ha! hussy, dare you threaten?" cried Wild; but, checking himself, he turned to Ireton and asked, "How long have the women been gone?" "Scarcely five minutes," replied the latter. Clientèle was of the most transitory character. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. It isn't your duty.
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