But this position only gave him opportunities of becoming a still greater scoundrel. With this view, he and Tom Bates formed the idea of having a band of twelve or thirteen men, who should act under the captain’s orders, and, under cover of being the thief-taker’s occasional assistants, would thus have an ample chance of “turning a dishonest penny to their own account.” This was agreed upon, and the band formed; the name under which they were known was the “Baker’s Dozen.” Each man had a particular talent, one for house-breaking, a second for counterfeiting, a third for horse-stealing, and so on. The authorities never dreamed that such a banded company existed, and placed all faith in Captain Jack, although he was the greatest rogue in England, as will be seen in this exciting narrative. “We’ve often heard the whole story before, Tom,” said Faulkner, another of the company, “so cut it for the present; it’s been many a good year in existence, and I warrant ye hadn’t as many grog blossoms on your nose afore it started as ye have now.” “Stow that, Faulkey,” said Bates. “I’ve got corns as well as grog blossoms, mind, and you wouldn’t a-been one o’ the dozen at all ’cept for me—no, that yer wouldn’t; but I know what yer would a been.” “What?” “Why, meat for vultures and night carrion birds, as pay their respects to the gibbets.” This remark made all laugh, for it was well-known among them that Faulkner would have been hung on the charge of robbery had not Bates induced Captain Jack to swear that he was innocent. “Well, enough of charf,” said Captain Jack; “let’s to business. Is that door shut?” “Yes.” “Well, let one of ye go and stand outside to give the office if any one comes in.” This was done. They all clustered round the table, and dived their hands down into their capacious pockets. One produced a purse, another some finger and car-rings; two others had a bundle of bank-notes, watches, snuff-boxes, the diamond hilts of broken swords, jewelled shoe and dress buckles; and other things of value were displayed. “You haven’t been idle on the road, I see,” said Captain Jack, with a grin. “This makes up for our unpleasant journey down here for that silly bumpkin.” While they were dividing the booty Captain Jack was deep in figures, and so was Tom Bates, that the entire swag might be apportioned so as to give themselves the greatest share. While thus engaged, Bates raised his eyes towards the parlour window. “Dam’me if there ain’t some one peeping through the round hole in the shutter!” he stammered. In an instant he pulled out his pistol, and fired! The ball smashed the glass, and went right through the hole. Some one was heard to fall outside. Tom Bates rushed to the window, and flung the shutter open. No one was there! “Well, if I didn’t hit him, I must have shaved him closely,” said Bates, and closed the window again. The moment Captain Jack had divided the spoil, a horseman was heard to halt at the inn door.