Her entrance into a gang of thieves was beset by no difficulty.  The Bear Garden, always her favourite resort, had made her acquainted with all the divers and rumpads of the town.  The time, moreover, was favourable to enterprise, and once again was genius born into a golden age.  The cutting of purses was an art brought to perfection, and already the more elegant practice of picking pockets was understood.  The transition gave scope for endless ingenuity, and Moll was not slow in mastering the theory of either craft.  It was a changing fashion of dress, as I have said, which forced a new tactic upon the thief; the pocket was invented because the hanging purse was too easy a prey for the thievish scissors.  And no sooner did the world conceal its wealth in pockets than the cly-filer was born to extract the booty with his long, nimble fingers.  The trick was managed with an admirable forethought, which has been a constant example to after ages.  The file was always accompanied by a bull, whose duty it was to jostle and distract the victim while his pockets were rifled.  The bung, or what not, was rapidly passed on to the attendant rub, who scurried off before the cry of stop thief! could be raised.

Thus was the craft of thieving practised when Moll was enrolled a humble member of the gang.  Yet nature had not endowed her with the qualities which ensure an active triumph.  ’The best signs and marks of a happy, industrious hand,’ wrote the hoyden, ’is a long middle finger, equally suited with that they call the fool’s or first finger.’  Now, though she was never a clumsy jade, the practice of sword-play and quarterstaff had not refined the industry of her hands, which were the rather framed for strength than for delicacy.  So that though she served a willing apprenticeship, and eagerly shared the risks of her chosen trade, the fear of Newgate and Tyburn weighed heavily upon her spirit, and she cast about her for a method of escape.  Avoiding the danger of discovery, she was loth to forego her just profit, and hoped that intelligence might atone for her sturdy, inactive fingers.  Already she had endeared herself to the gang by unnumbered acts of kindness and generosity; already her inflexible justice had made her umpire in many a difficult dispute.  If a rascal could be bought off at the gallows’ foot, there was Moll with an open purse; and so speedily did she penetrate all the secrets of thievish policy, that her counsel and comfort were soon indispensable.

Here, then, was her opportunity.  Always a diplomatist rather than a general, she gave up the battlefield for the council chamber.  She planned the robberies which defter hands achieved; and, turning herself from cly-filer to fence, she received and changed to money all the watches and trinkets stolen by the gang.