Shady Belle Camp.
On the second-floor balcony of the abandoned manor.
"Have you made up your mind, Dutch?" Hosea asked, a trace of worry in his voice.
Dutch held a cigar between his fingers. "Of course, Hosea. I've already gotten word from Bronte—the Pinkertons have discovered our presence in Saint Denis."
"It won't take long before they start coming after us."
"So we don't have much time left. We need to get out of here before the Pinkertons reach Saint Denis."
"And for that, we need enough money to go somewhere new."
Hosea replied, "Dutch, I've always felt Bronte isn't a simple man. I once heard Davey say that the Pinkertons no longer have law enforcement authority in Saint Denis."
"Maybe we don't need to be so afraid of them. They might not be able to do anything to us."
The moment Davey's name was mentioned, Dutch felt a knot of irritation tighten in his chest.
"Hosea, we can't place our safety in someone else's mercy," Dutch said firmly.
"Yes, the Pinkertons may not have jurisdiction anymore—but does that mean they won't act?"
"Or what if they come after us as bounty hunters and drag us back to West Elizabeth for trial? Can you accept that?"
"We have to leave. And before we do, we need a lot of money."
Hosea sighed. "But this plan to rob the tram station… it doesn't feel reliable."
"Bronte wouldn't be that kind."
Dutch reassured him, "Don't worry, Hosea. I know Bronte isn't a good man."
"That's why I've spent time learning everything I can about the tram station."
"All the money is stored in the station's safe, and it's only collected once every seven days."
"I've seen it—there's a lot of it. Tens of thousands of dollars, at least."
"And there are no guards inside the station. We can take it easily."
"At the very least, Bronte didn't lie to us about that."
"Maybe Bronte isn't a good person, but we share the same interests, don't we?"
Hosea was persuaded. He knew something about the tram station himself, and it really was just as Dutch described—easy to hit.
"When's the next time they collect the money?"
"They picked it up two days ago," Dutch replied. "So we'd need to wait five more days. No—better to be safe. We move in four days."
"I'll contact Arthur. Me, Arthur, and Lenny."
"We don't need many people. Three will be enough."
"As soon as we get the money, we leave immediately."
"I've already arranged things with a captain. As long as we pay for the tickets, we're gone."
"To a new place. Somewhere no one knows us."
"To start our lives over."
"Don't you want that, Hosea?"
Hosea nodded. They really did need to leave this place.
The Pinkertons weren't in the best position either. Maybe after a few years of living under assumed names, everyone would forget about them.
"All right," Hosea said. "But just to be safe, I'll go see Davey."
Dutch's expression darkened. "Why go see him?"
Hosea explained, "He's our child too, isn't he, Dutch?"
"Once this plan is done, we'll be leaving. We might not see him again for many years."
"I'm old. This could be the last time I ever see Davey."
"And about the Pinkertons—maybe I can get some information from him, make sure we truly have enough time to get away."
Hearing that, Dutch's expression softened.
"Fine," he said at last. "But don't tell him about our plan."
"It's not that I doubt him. It's just that some things don't need to be said."
Hosea nodded and turned to head downstairs.
Below in the camp, Mary Beth sat quietly, writing her novel. When no one disturbed her, she could lose herself completely in her writing.
"Mary Beth!"
Hosea called out to her.
She looked up. "Hosea? Do you need something?"
"I'm planning a trip to Saint Denis," Hosea said. "To see Davey. Would you like to come with me?"
He asked her along because he knew Davey and Mary Beth were on good terms. He still remembered the last time Davey had been with the gang—during the bonfire celebration for Sean's return, when Davey and Mary Beth had danced together. Bringing her along might be a good idea.
"Of course. Why not?" Mary Beth replied with a smile.
Compared to the wandering life of the camp, Mary Beth preferred city living. She seemed like someone who belonged in the civilized world by nature.
In the camp, she often heard things about Davey, stories that filled her with longing and curiosity. Sometimes she wondered what her life would be like now if she'd chosen to leave with him back then.
But she didn't want to betray Dutch.
She wasn't like Abigail, who wanted a more stable life for little Jack. Still, it couldn't be denied that Dutch had sheltered them.
Her, and Sadie, Molly, Karen, Susan—though not Molly, of course.
They didn't have to sell their bodies like prostitutes, nor steal constantly like petty thieves. The robberies were handled by the men.
Even though they drifted from place to place, they had steady food and a stable life. They could do things they enjoyed without worrying about tomorrow.
They truly had reason to be grateful to Dutch.
Other gangs never took in the elderly or women. In this era, women without family or men to rely on often lived terribly difficult lives.
In that regard, Dutch really had done an exceptional job, with his own unique charisma. That was why, unless absolutely necessary, no one ever left the Van der Linde Gang.
...
Saint Denis, Flavian Street.
Outside the gates of the Land mansion.
Hosea and Mary Beth arrived on horseback. Just as they dismounted, several employees dressed in black uniforms approached them.
"I'm sorry, sir. Ma'am," one of them said.
"You've entered private property. Please leave immediately."
Hosea smiled. "We're here to see Davey. We're his friends."
The employee asked, "May I have your names?"
Hosea gestured to himself. "Hosea. And this beautiful young lady is Mary Beth."
"And you shouldn't address her as 'ma'am.' That's rather impolite."
The employee nodded. "My apologies. Please wait a moment."
One of them hurried inside to pass along the message.
Before long, a woman dressed in a maid's uniform came out.
"Mr. Hosea, Miss Mary Beth, hello," she said politely.
"I'm Elisa, Mr. Land's maid."
"Mr. Land is currently handling some matters. He asked me to convey his apologies and request that you wait for a while."
"I'll take you to the sitting room."
"Thank you, Miss Elisa," Hosea said.
Elisa smiled. "Please don't call me that. I'm just Mr. Land's maid. Elisa is fine."
Wealth truly changed people.
Elisa had once been a child from a poor family, but after becoming Davey's personal maid, her life naturally grew comfortable. She might not have been strikingly beautiful, but she had her own youthful charm. Years of good living had given her healthy color and a bright, energetic demeanor. Even dressed in a maid's uniform, she looked like a young lady from a wealthy household.
The estate was vast, with employees patrolling the grounds. The luxurious décor inside the mansion reminded Hosea of the last time he'd seen such opulence—at the mayor's residence.
Mary Beth felt a little stiff. She'd heard people say that Davey had become someone important, but it hadn't truly felt real until now. Only at this moment did she realize that Davey now lived in a world completely different from theirs.
The sofa was so soft it seemed ready to swallow a person whole.
Elisa brought over fine tea, red wine, desserts, and biscuits—along with high-end Cuban cigars. She knew the two were once Mr. Land's companions.
But just as Hosea and Mary Beth sat down, a furious roar echoed from upstairs.
"You idiots! Didn't you tell him who paid for that equipment?"
"I don't accept apologies. Take your men and your guns, and get every piece of my cargo back."
"Hang their corpses at the port of Van Horn. Let everyone know the price of crossing me!"
...
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