I overheard Jonathan Wild's instructions to Quilt Arnold, and though he spoke in slang, and in an under tone, my quick ears, and acquaintance with the thieves' lingo, enabled me to make out every word he uttered. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. A cup of lies. Still no sound. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. But I will disappoint you. And you shall have a share of the gold for yourself.
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