As those in the stock gamboled in the South Sea surf, others, equally enterprising, trolled for them. There is always more than one way to make money off a boom, and few hunting grounds have been as filled with targets as those few streets and passages in London during that South Sea spring. Pickpockets worked in groups of three or four: one to distract the target, while the real artist of the gang—a nip, who cut purses, or the yet more skilled foyne, who could dip into the inner pocket of a coat—made off with the mark’s purse.
