ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. I don’t know. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them.
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