" "I forgot to mention there's a trifling reward for his capture," cried Shotbolt, popping his head from under the cloth. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said. ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold.
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