Deep down, Arthur knew Hosea was right.
But when it came time to choose, he still chose Dutch.
He understood that at a time like this, internal conflict would only hurt the gang.
Besides, he was angry at Bronte himself.
In that mess, he, Dutch, and Lenny had almost lost their lives.
On the road, Dutch suddenly said, "Thanks."
Arthur frowned. "For what?"
"For standing with me back there."
He meant the argument with Hosea.
Arthur shook his head. "It wasn't about taking sides."
Dutch let out a breath. "I think Hosea's getting old. He's not the man he used to be. He's grown cautious about everything."
After a brief silence, Arthur asked, "Are we going after Bronte to rob the bank, or to get revenge for the tram station?"
Dutch replied vaguely, "Both. Neither. Does it matter?"
"We need that bank. And Bronte controls the Saint Denis police—hell, he controls just about everything."
"He set us up just because I refused to kill that newspaper owner for him."
"Oh. And there's Davey."
Dutch had always disliked Davey, but he had to admit he hadn't actually done anything against him.
When Arthur heard Davey's name, he suddenly felt that going after Bronte might not be such a bad idea.
Bronte was Dutch's enemy—and Davey's as well. Davey had told him before: they looked like partners on the surface, but in truth, each wanted the other dead.
"I get it. But those people are looking for us."
"We're in a bad spot."
By "those people," Arthur meant the Pinkertons.
What Dutch and Arthur didn't know was that Davey had already begun cooperating with Pinkerton's upper ranks.
From another angle, if Arthur went to Davey and asked him to call off the Pinkertons, there was actually a real chance it could happen.
The Van der Linde Gang had committed plenty of crimes in the West, but compared to the entire United States, they were hardly worth mentioning.
Under pressure from higher authorities, Milton and Ross would have no choice but to bow to Davey and abandon the hunt for the Van der Linde Gang.
Dutch's expression darkened when he heard Arthur's concerns.
"You people seem to have forgotten where the money comes from."
"Do you know how much it costs to feed more than twenty people?"
"Alright. Thanks to the Callander brothers, we're down to eighteen now."
"So how much do you think it'll cost to send eighteen people overseas for a new life?"
Arthur understood the gang's difficulties. "Let me ask you something, Dutch."
"Is the Tahiti Plan really going to work?"
By now, not just Hosea and Arthur, but many others had begun to doubt Dutch's mango-growing dream.
Dutch shot back, "What do you think, Arthur? Will it?"
"Damn it, have a little faith."
"I'm fighting like hell to build a better future for all of us."
"I know, but—"
"But, but, but…" Dutch's voice edged toward hysteria. "Since when did you get so short-sighted?"
"If you think we'd be better off splitting up and going our separate ways—"
"Then just say it."
"Of course not," Arthur replied immediately.
"This isn't a prisoner-of-war camp. I'm not forcing anyone to stay."
"So we either carry this together and find a way out together—"
"Or we break up."
Arthur fell silent.
It was the first time he had ever heard Dutch say those words.
And it frightened him.
He had grown up in the Van der Linde Gang. If the gang really fell apart, where would he even go?
He felt lost, tense, uneasy.
In the end, he pushed the thoughts aside.
Just follow Dutch.
And keep going.
...
Saint Denis Dock.
Davey watched as Samuel Grayson, a senior Pinkerton executive, boarded a luxury liner and departed.
Grayson had originally planned to stay for a day, but a phone call changed that—an important client needed to meet him in person.
So he had no choice but to return.
To Davey, Grayson was nothing short of a benefactor.
Because of Pinkerton's predicament—and because of Grayson's decision—Davey now held tremendous political power.
That power was tangible, especially within Pinkerton's operations in the West.
It also meant that Davey had stepped onto a much bigger stage.
Standing at the dock, Davey let out a quiet sigh.
The Pinkertons—once the force the Van der Linde Gang feared most—had now become the ladder to his ascent.
Fate really did work in strange ways.
--
...
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