"Just showing that it's here we're meant to do our work," had said the leader of these rascals, a scowling individual boasting the name of Jaime de Oteros, "See here, friends; the police of the zone are looking for us amongst the labour gangs. We've dollars saved in plenty, and no need to work; supposing we find some quiet place near at hand, and take toll of another pay office." "And first of all pay back the scores we owe," the rascal who had so recently fired at Jim growled. "I've sworn to give back what I was given aboard that ship, and since I believe the young pup who was so free with his fists is staying on here, why, I'll finish him. Eh?" His suggestion had met with the hearty approval of all. There was not a man in the gang who would not do the same; for to these lawless fellows a blow received demanded repayment. As to the risk, that was nothing. They were accustomed to the feeling that their arrest was aimed at. If theft could pass without actual discovery, then a shot in the night, and the death of a white official, would equally escape detection. "Five of them." Jim counted them off on his fingers as he again raised his head. He squinted in through the corner of the window, and inspected each one of the gang separately. And now he recognized them not alone from the leaflet which he had seen, but from amongst the faces of the Spaniards who had been aboard the steamer. Of an evening he had often stood at the rail above and looked down into the waist of the vessel, watching the dusky faces of the Spaniards, and scenting the rank odour of the cigarettes they smoked. Features which then had made no great impression on him, but which had, unconsciously as it were, been tucked away within his memory, now struck him as familiar. Little by little he recollected exactly where he had seen each man, and what he had been doing, so that within the space of a few minutes he was sure that every one of them had been aboard the steamer. "And are now wanted by the police here," he thought, "while the fellow sitting at the far end of the table is wanted more than them all, seeing that he has attempted murder. But how to do it? There are five, and all probably carry arms." A second glance at the men persuaded him that there was little doubt on the last matter; for the leader of these ruffians had placed his weapon on the plank table before him, while a second was cleaning his revolver with a piece of dirty rag. A third wore a belt, as could be clearly seen, since he had discarded his coat, and carried both a revolver and a huge knife attached to it. "Ugly fellows to deal with, I guess," thought Jim. "The question is this: ought we to attempt a rush? or ought we to set a watch on the house and send for the police?"