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?”