"What weight are these irons?" asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one of the partners. "I thought I heard a scream. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. But never would any so dishonour himself as to hand a fellow rogue over to the authorities. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. There were shadows under his eyes.
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