Chapter 16

A scrawny child in rags was much too noticeable, especially in the Upper Market, where people had real money. A scruffy urchin, loitering with intent, is too obvious. Alone among the street kids, I spent my gains on better clothing. I skipped a meal here and there, to buy a waistcoat, a clean shirt, trousers and shoes.

I didn't go to the same market every day. Yes, you could learn the best escape routes, and get to know the patterns, if you went to the same place repeatedly. But after a while, people started to recognize you, and eventually they would realize that you never bought anything.

Oh, yes - they hang children. A thief is a thief, regardless of age. The youngest I ever saw on the scaffold was a five year-old girl.

- "It sounds so cruel." said Sylvia.

- "It is." I agreed. "I saw something else, early on. There were no old pickpockets. SwiftFinger was one, but he had three apprentices working with him, and he passed the loot to