I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. This started a thought moving. Monroe would lock the whole group of us in the basement, every day. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. Then a roar of hisses.
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