Chapter 7
Leave It to Mick
The boys seemed to have vanished completely. Mick Howell shook his head. Resourceful little buggers—they’d obviously used the sewer drain that ran from Mile End Old Town. Some said it flooded when the tides were high enough, but the tosher that Tom had brought along laughed at the suggestion.
“Nah, on’y if’n there’s a big tide an’ flooding up Bethnal or Stratford le Bow.”
“So only the river end would be closed during the flood tide?”
“Yeah, but no one toshes that end. The pickings are better t’ other side o’ Commercial an up toward t’ Green. Anythin’ this end—well, it gets flushed to the river, see. An’ the mudlarks needs somethin’.”
“An’ it runs beneath the workhouse?”
“Yeah.” The youth made a face. “’Nother reason not ter tosh there—all the dirty wash wa
