Some were decorated with black patches across the forehead, over the eye, or on their high cheek bones. One or two were minus an eye. One individual’s nose was almost level with his face. Several had part of their front teeth knocked out; but each had big thick fists, with which from time to time they struck the table until they made the glasses dance and ring again. Loud and coarse was their laughter, and when they smiled at any passing joke or observation, their countenances were more like those of hyenas just about feeding time than human beings. The recognised leader of this desperate half-dozen was called Captain Jack, an individual of great strength, who delighted in much swearing and obscene conversation. Jack what, no one knew for certain, not even those who employed him. When at last supper was provided for this very select and genteel party they set to work vigorously with knives and forks, and soon demolished a huge amount of meat and vegetables, more than would have sufficed for any ordinary supper party of twenty individuals. They feasted, and swore, and laughed, and bolted their food in a heathenish style, as if all of them had been fasting for a month. Long, copious draughts of various beverages washed the grog down their capacious throats, and they occasionally enlivened the proceedings by throwing potatoes at Nat the waiter, and hitting him in the eye, on the nose, &c., until “Boots’s” face was bumped and swollen. When the repast was over these six elegant individuals and their captain stretched themselves on chairs, and puffed clouds from long pipes, as if they were the first gentlemen the land instead of the greatest rascals unhung. “As I was saying, lads,” Capt. Jack observed, after drinking some brandy and water, “as I was saying I shouldn’t have taken this pretty job in hand, you know, only it gave us all a chance to do a little business on the road on our private account.” “True,” growled Tom Bates, an oldish, ugly-looking person, with one eye and a broken nose, “true, captain, and when yer did want anybody, in course you knowed where to find ’em. Ah! we’ve had some r-a-r-e old times together, haven’t we, cap’n?” said Bates, with a long-drawn sigh, which he further suppressed with a flood of spiced ale down his throat. “True, Tom; but the idea of the ‘Baker’s Dozen,’ as we are called, was yours.” “In course it were,” said Bates. “But I arn’t at all proud; it were only a lucky thought. When you got your fust job from the justices what could a-been a neater idea than to have a company o’ twelve or thirteen good trusty lads about ye, when times were busy, all sworn to secrecy and fair shares o’ booty?” [It must be here explained, for the reader’s information, that Captain Jack had been such a noted thief and rascal in his time that he had often been, and was now regularly, employed as thief-taker.]