derstood. They looked upon
the ship only as a prison. Now, with their feet on firm ground, they
were a different lot of men. Few of them were actual cowards, and
still fewer of them objected to the prospective fight, even though
they had been drawn into it in what they considered an underhanded
way. But the real reason for their good humor lay deeper, so deep that
not one man had dared as yet whisper it to another, although each knew
the other to be of the same mind. This was the prospect of loot.
Whichever side won, there would be a fine confusion in a lawless city,
with opportunities galore for plunder.

Most of them had vague notions that these South American cities were
fabulously rich in gold. Consequently, if they could not be depended
upon afterwards, they could be trusted to do their best to make the
city, and to fight so long as their own security was in jeopardy. To
rebel before they got there would only place them between two fires,
and they feared Stubbs too well to attempt it even if there was a
chance. So, take them all in all as they stood there upon dry land,
they were about as fair a fighting lot as mercenaries ever average.

The last thing to be brought from the boat was the ammunition, and
this was not distributed until the only method left of reaching the
ship was by swimming. Wilson sat upon the boxes with a revolver in
each hand until the last boat left the shore. Then Stubbs broke open
the boxes and made his final speech to the men who in a way he was now
placing without his authority.

"Afore I gives you these," he began, "I wants to remind yer of the
little talk we had t' other night. Each man of yer gits fifty
cartridges and with them either he makes Bogova er Hell. There ain't
no other stoppin' places. Ye may have thought, some of ye, that once
yer rifles was loaded ye could do 'bout as ye pleased. But t'ain't so.
Jus' behin' you there'll march one hundred men from the hills. They
don't know much, but they obey orders, an' their orders is to shoot
anybody what ain't goin' our way. Ye've got a chance, marchin'
straight on an' takin' the city; ye ain't gut the ghost of a chance,
if ye don't take the city er if ye fergits the way and starts back
towards the ship. 'Nother thing; hold tergether. It ain't pleasant fer
a man caught by hisself in Bogova. Thet's all, gents, an' I hopes it
will be my pleasant duty to hand ye soon a five-dollar gold piece fer
everyone of these here things I now hands