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Caleb stepped down from the wagon bed, landing with a crunch of boots on dirt. He spoke in his steady tone, laying it out plain. "Two chests filled with new rifles. A pile of used ones we gathered up too. Boxes of dynamite, enough to make some trouble if we wanted. And one chest full of cash. All of it's thanks to Lenny here, he found the lead in Rhodes, brought it back to Arthur and me."
Lenny flushed with pride at being called out like that, his grin wide. Hosea's expression softened, his eyes warming in that way he had, the closest thing to a father in this ragged camp. "Well done, son. That was fine work. You did us proud. Real proud."
"Thank you, Hosea," Lenny said, his voice earnest.
Hosea turned back to Arthur. "And the money? How much is it, Arthur?"
Arthur shook his head. "Haven't counted it yet. We figured gettin' out of there alive was more important than takin' time to thumb through every bill. As for the rifles and dynamites, you'll know their worth better than the three of us."
Hosea nodded thoughtfully. "All right. Get the wagon unloaded. Let me take a look at the rifles and powder, see what I can fetch for them. As for the chest of money…" He pointed to the heavy iron bound box in the wagon bed. "Arthur and Caleb, take it aside and count it out. Once you know the total, you three split your cut. The rest goes into camp."
"Understood," Caleb said, already moving to the wagon.
Arthur joined him, and together they hauled the chest down, the iron scraping against the wood as they eased it to the ground. They carried it a few feet away, setting it down on a flat patch of dirt.
Meanwhile, Hosea called to the others, directing hands to lift the crates of rifles and dynamite, while Lenny proudly explained each find while bringing the items down.
Caleb crouched by the chest, pulling a small iron key from the lip where he'd tucked it earlier. With a click, the lock came free, and the lid creaked open to reveal neat stacks of bills, rolls of coins, even a few small pouches that clinked with weight.
Arthur whistled low. "Now that I have seen it fully, looks like more than pocket change alright."
"No doubt," Caleb agreed, his fingers already counting quickly, efficiently, stacking bills into tall, ordered piles. Arthur sat across from him, pulling the coin rolls open, letting the silver and gold glint in the light.
As they worked, Caleb found his thoughts drifting again. This haul was good, maybe one of the best they'd had in weeks.
But he could already imagine the fire it would stoke in Dutch. Money, rifles, dynamite, those weren't just supplies. They were fuel for Dutch's dreams, the kind that grew bigger and more dangerous by the day.
Arthur must've been thinking the same, because when Caleb glanced up, he found his old friend staring into the chest with that familiar furrow of unease in his brow. Neither spoke on it yet. They just kept counting, the weight of the gang's future heavy between them.
By the time they finished, the total came to 2,800 dollars, a truly hefty big sum. 1,800 dollars goes right into the camp and the remaining 1,000 dollars was split between Caleb, Arthur, and Lenny, with each of them gain 333 dollars and 33 cents. Caleb tucked his share into his satchel, the weight of it a small comfort.
Arthur take his cut and Lenny's cut as well, which he will give to Lenny after everything was done. Near the wagon, Lenny's laughter rang out as now the others praised him.
They were in high spirits, already dreaming of what the money could buy, the kind of supplies and also stuffs to improve their quality of life.
At this time, Dutch's voice rang out loud across the camp, his tone bright and booming, though to Caleb it sounded forced.
"There are my boys!"
The man himself strode forward with his coat flaring behind him, hat tilted back just so, a broad smile on his face. He walked toward Hosea, Lenny, and the others who were still unloading the wagon. The crates of rifles sat heavy in the dirt, the wooden boxes of dynamite stacked nearby, while Lenny kept talking animatedly about how they'd gotten the haul.
Dutch's eyes swept over it all, and he raised his voice again, making a grand gesture toward the pile. "And what is this? What fine bounty lies before me, gentlemen?"
Hosea turned at that, his expression calm as always, though a touch guarded as he regarded Dutch. He lifted a hand toward the spread. "This is what Arthur, Caleb, and Lenny brought back from their heist. A chest full of money, which Arthur and Caleb are over there counting now, two chests full of brand new rifles, some bunch of used rifles, and several boxes of dynamite. And all of this," Hosea said with emphasis, "was because of Lenny. He was the one who got the information in Rhodes. He brought it back to Arthur and Caleb, asking for their help in pulling it off."
Dutch froze for just a fraction of a second, his smile tightening before it smoothed out again.
Caleb, watching from where he crouched by the chest, caught the stiffness, the way Dutch's pride bristled at the idea that Lenny had gone first to Arthur and Caleb instead of to him. But the man let it pass, covering it with a grand sweep of his arm as he strode toward Lenny.
"My boy," Dutch said warmly, laying a hand on Lenny's shoulder. "You did this? You found this opportunity, and you went into Rhodes yourself? Venturing into that dangerous den of vipers… it shows real courage, son."
"Yes, sir," Lenny said, a little breathless at the sudden attention. "I just did my part. Wasn't nothin' much. The danger wasn't the worst of it, really. I got close with some of the colored folk living out there, the ones scraping by, who sleep wherever they can, with no money to their names. They're the ones who told me about things most people wouldn't know."
Dutch's expression softened, though the performance of it was clear to Caleb's eyes. Dutch gave Lenny's shoulder a firm squeeze, his voice swelling like a preacher at his pulpit.
"And you risked yourself, Lenny. You went where you were not welcome, where prejudice still runs deep in the blood of men, and you returned to us with treasure and opportunity. That is brave. That is loyalty. That is love for this family."
Lenny ducked his head, though he couldn't help but smile. "Just doin' my part for the gang."
Dutch's eyes grew mournful as he lifted them toward the others. "A shame what those people endure, truly. It saddens me to hear that such good folk are forced to live in squalor. That this land, this country, turns its back on them. That is the true enemy we face, brothers and sisters. Not lawmen, not soldiers, not the Pinkertons, but the greed and cruelty that bind people in chains, keepin' them from the freedom that should be theirs by right."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the camp. Some clapped. Some nodded.
Caleb, still stacking bills into neat piles beside Arthur, merely shook his head. He'd heard it before, the same words, reshaped again and again. Dutch's sermons had once stirred something in him hwme he plays the game before seeing how it all went down.
Now they just sounded like the recycled thoughts of Evelyn Miller, a man Dutch had all but worshipped in those books he kept quoting.
Dutch pressed on, his voice swelling. "But here we stand together, free men and women. We are the true patriots! We live by a code, a code of freedom. And we must live by that code of freedom. We will fight for it, and I promise you this, I will lead us to a better life. All of us together. Every one of you has contributed with your hard work, your sacrifice, and today, thanks to Lenny, Arthur, and Caleb, we are closer to it than ever before!"
The camp broke into clapping and cheers, though not as loud as they once had been. Dutch of course felt it too, the waning enthusiasm from his people. But he smiled all the same, determined. 'They'll see,' he thought to himself. 'Once my plan comes together, they'll believe again. They'll follow me again like before. Without any arguments.'
His gaze shifted toward Hosea, his tone shifting from preacher to businessman. "Now, my old friend, tell me, what do you think we can fetch for these rifles and some of the dynamite? All this iron and powder?"
Hosea stroked his chin, eyeing the piles. "If we sell the new rifles to the right people, and the used ones along with half of the dynamite, I'd say we're looking at thousands of dollars. A fine haul."
He paused, then frowned slightly. "Wait. Why did you say only half the dynamite? What in God's name do you need that much dynamite for, Dutch?"
Dutch just laughed, a rich, dismissive sound. He clapped his hand onto Hosea's shoulder. "Because, Hosea, I've a plan. And that plan will need a fair bit of it."
Hosea's brow furrowed. "And what kind of plan needs that much powder, Dutch? What are you thinking?"
Dutch only laughed, shaking his head, the sound rolling out across the camp like thunder. "You just keep believing in me, old friend. Have trust in my vision. I have a plan. A grand one. If we play it right, it'll bring us more money than we've ever seen. It just requires… communicating with the right people first. Leave the details to me."
Hosea's eyes narrowed. "And what people do you need to contact for this plan of yours?"
Dutch patted his shoulder again, sidestepping the question with a practiced smile. "Just let me worry about that."
The evasion was clear, and a flicker of concern passed over Hosea's face. He knew Dutch better than anyone, and this smelled of one of his increasingly reckless schemes.
Seemingly bored with the conversation, he turned his head, his eyes fell on Arthur and Caleb, still crouched over the chest of money.
"And the main event! What about that chest, boys?" Dutch called out, gesturing to the chest. "How much did we bring home?"
Arthur looked up, his face calm, voice steady. "Gang gets 1,800 dollars. After me, Caleb, and Lenny take our cut and split it."
A chorus of impressed whistles and gasps went up among the gathered outlaws. Some swore under their breath. Others shook their heads in amazement at the figure. 1,800 dollars was a fortune, a lifeline that meant food, ammunition, and security for weeks.
Dutch let out a booming laugh, spreading his arms wide. "Glorious! Truly glorious! Arthur, Lenny, Caleb, you have done us proud." He said Caleb's name with a touch of begrudging weight, but even he couldn't deny the man's part in this victory.
Then Dutch turned back to Hosea, his smile wide again. "Find buyers for the rifles and for half that dynamite. And do it quick. The sooner we turn this into money, the sooner we move forward."
Hosea gave a slow nod, though his eyes flicked once more toward Dutch, doubt lingering there.
The night that followed was loud with celebration. They drank, they ate, they laughed. Lenny was the hero of the hour, everyone patting his back, toasting to him. Caleb sat by the fire with Arthur, both of them quieter, watching Dutch move from group to group like a king among his subjects. His speeches were shorter now, but his voice carried the same force as always.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 3)
- Rifle (Lvl 3)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 2)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
- Acting (Lvl 2)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,656 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 8 gold bars, 7 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 4 gold rings, 2 silver rings, 4 silver pocket watches, 3 gold buckles, 1 gold pocket compass, 2 platinum pocket watches, and 2 Colm's Schofields
Bank: -