"To Newgate," cried Jonathan, putting his head out of the window. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. . Sheppard, with a frenzied laugh. " "As you will," said Jonathan, seating himself. \"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile.
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