By Iain Lawrence
After seeing his father hauled off to debtor’s felony, Tom Tin units out to take revenge on Mr. Goodfellow, the fellow chargeable for his family’s misfortunes. however the fog-filled London streets are teeming with sinister characters. Tom encounters a blind guy who scavenges the riverbed for treasure—and desires what Tom digs up; Worms, a physique snatcher who finds a stunning shock; and a bad gang of younger pickpockets who mistake Tom for somebody ominously referred to as the Smasher. And eventually, Tom comes up opposed to the harsh hand of the legislations.
Accused of homicide, Tom is given a seven-year sentence. he's to be transported to Van Diemen’s Land with different juvenile convicts. yet Tom can’t abide existence at the Hulk, the outdated send the place the lads are quickly held. He comes to a decision to flee. but when he’s to be successful, his good fortune must flip. . . .
From the Hardcover edition.
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Additional info for The Convicts: The Curse of the Jolly Stone Trilogy, Book I
Anchored in a river? ” I requested. He virtually giggled. “Maybe no longer for all time. ” towards the top of the day, in our final hour of stitching, there has been a kind of thump, then a rattle within the timbers. Midgely regarded up. “Feel that, Tom? ” he stated. “She touched. ” My mouth was once too dry to talk. “The wind's riding her towards the bank,” whispered Midge. “If it really is like this within the springs, she'll approximately be ashore. ” “How lengthy? ” I requested. “Maybe a week,” acknowledged Midge. “Not greater than ten days. ” “And how lengthy will Weedle be within the gap? ” He shrugged. “No one's by no means been there greater than per week. ” Our time was once brief. yet that evening i could not in all probability shift -myselffrom my hammock. I hung on because it swayed from side to side, approximately wishing for demise to discover me. not anything will be worse than the seasickness. “Is there no method to cease this? ” I requested. “Nelson acknowledged you have to take a seat below a tree,” acknowledged Midge. He laughed on the cleverness of his silly hero. “It is going away, Tom. you simply need to wait. ” It was once the hurricane that went away. It handed with the sunrise, and left the seagulls whirling in nice squawking pinwheels of white. The wind fell away. The waves settled down, and my belly settled with them, and that evening we started working with a will. As Midge tunneled within the chapel, I took the guard's damaged cane and punctiliously cut up every bit down the center. I scraped them hole with a shard of his lantern glass, then rejoined the halves. I sure them around and around with strands from my rope belt. I sealed them with tar that I scraped from the hull. while I positioned one lead to my mouth and raised the opposite, Midgely grinned to work out what i would made. “We can breathe via those,” he acknowledged. “Oooh, that is lummy, Tom. ” the times handed speedy. typhoon hurricane, yet each sickened me rather less. My brain wandered simply from the workroom as I imagined myself again in London, discovering my father and atmosphere him loose, unearthing my diamond and spending its riches. I regretted greater than ever that Midge will be left in the back of, and that i was once happy that he by no means guessed it. We nonetheless took out his books and traveled to his islands. throughout us, boys performed their video games of pitch-button and French and English—that conflict fought on pickaback—as we met the black-skinned natives of their villages of huts. The send used to be a greater position with out Walter Weedle. We occasionally heard him at evening. The black gap used to be less than us, and never far-off, and we heard him firstly shouting and cursing and hammering on the wooden. because the days glided by he started to wail, then howl like a hound. occasionally, within the quiet of the night's heart passage, because the send slept and that i labored, I heard his voice shouting my identify from the depths of his gap. “I be aware of the place you're! i'm going to kill you, Tom Tin. ” there have been boys who thrilled in Weedle's being long past. Even a few of his little gang appeared happy, for they'd nobody to rob them in their foodstuff. yet a lot to my shock, Oten Acres discovered no reduction. the large farm boy saved wilting, shriveling, until eventually he might slightly flip himself from his hammock.