Chapter 7: The Fishing Trip & The Law-Men

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Dutch won't hear anything said against Micah. I can't believe I never noticed how much that rat had sunk his claws into him. Or maybe I did, I just hoped that Dutch cared about the rest of us, too.

Javier got hurt because I refused to break Micah out of jail. He's OK now, but I'm worried. If I change the wrong thing, more people could die.

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"I noticed you haven't put too much money in the box, Mr. Morgan.

Miss Grimshaw finally cornered Arthur regarding his contributions. It wasn't entirely true, Arthur did slip money into the camp regularly. The amount, however, was much lower than the camp was used to from him.

That wasn't to say Arthur hadn't made money. He had made a lot in fact, remembering where gold bars were stashed from treasure maps he had once followed. There were a few houses full of crazies that held some jewels. He had sold some pretty nice animal pelts, too. But that was his money now. He wouldn't contribute to Dutch's grand scheme. No sum of cash would ever match Dutch's wild, fantastical ideas.

So, he had his own secret stash, for when he figured out what to do with it. He considered Dutch's original plan. If he made enough money, he could move the gang north, slip around the Pinkertons and West Elizabeth, then head west. He remembered California fondly, they could buy some land, be a family. Make money legally for once.

It was the best choice, really. The world was changing, and if they didn't change, they would die. Just like last time.

"I've been a little busy, Miss Grimshaw," he tried to brush her off, but she continued.

"These people need money and food, Mr. Morgan."

"Alright, alright. I'll go see what I can stir up."

He already had some cash in his satchel, but he obviously didn't want Miss Grimshaw to know that. Mounting Dakota, he spent the morning hunting for Mr. Pearson, bringing back a deer and slipping some cash in the box, just enough to afford new medical supplies from town. Dutch watched him do it. Micah as well.

Unfortunately for Arthur, Micah had made his return, having robbed a stagecoach and boasted about singlehandedly taking out droves of O'Driscolls. Dutch lapped it up, welcoming Micah back with open arms. The rest of the camp? Not so much.

"Arthur!" Abigail called, pulling Arthur away from his thoughts.

"Yes, Abigail?"

"Could you do something with Jack?" Ah yes, right on time. Fishing with Jack, the day he met the Pinkerton agents for the first time. Not that he had been able to change much, but he would see if Agents Ross and Milton had found them yet again.

"Sure, Abigail. I'll take him for the afternoon," he said, and went to collect Jack.

"Hey there, Jack. You want to come fishing with me?"

"OK!"

"You have a fishing pole, don't you?"

"Yeah, Uncle Hosea made me one!" Jack said, running off to his things.

For a second, as he lifted Jack in front of him, he wondered if he should pick a different fishing spot. But, he supposed, it didn't matter. If the agents wanted to find him, they would.

"Here's a good spot," he said, lower Jack down and handing him his rod. He showed Jack how to cast a line, but knew that it wouldn't take long for the kid to get bored. Sure enough, Jack was off picking flowers, leaving Arthur alone to catch dinner for the evening.

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