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Experiences of a Bow Street Runner


One of my journeys called me away to a town in Suffolk, where I was ordered to take charge of a prisoner to be discharged the next day from one of the local jails, in which he had been undergoing a year’s imprisonment for a criminal assault. The man had been let out on a ticket-of-leave from the Defence hulk at Woolwich, and had speedily, as it appeared, got into trouble down in the country. As he was merely “wanted” to complete his original sentence—having broken his ticket-of-leave—there could be no bother about apprehending him inside the prison, and using such precautions for his safe keeping as seemed best to my judgment.

Just as I was about to leave the office in Bow Street, one of my comrades, with whom I was rather intimate, came in, having finished a journey such as I was myself about to set off on.

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