Out of trust for Dutch, Arthur did not press the matter further.
The gang's combat personnel this time were much more numerous than in the story's original plot.
In the original story, John hadn't recovered from his injuries when they arrived, so he didn't come. But now the timing had changed; thanks to Dutch covering their retreat, their escape was much smoother than before, and John hadn't been shot before going up the mountain, so the wolf bite wounds weren't too severe.
So, after Dutch had recovered, John was basically fine too.
Adding in David and Mike, who weren't dead, the difficulty of this battle was extremely low.
The Van der Linde Gang, just like in the story, observed from the top of the snowy mountain with binoculars, then stealthily descended and launched a surprise attack.
For a time, the O'Driscoll Gang suffered heavy casualties. Under the attacks of the three sharpshooters, David, Mike, and Arthur, the entire O'Driscoll Gang members were like lambs to the slaughter, completely killed without any unexpected turns.
Only after all personnel were shot did Dutch allow the team to begin the final cleanup work normally.
"Time to clear the battlefield, boys. Take everything you can. Our ladies and children need some nourishment, oh, and of course, our old guys need a little replenishment too."
Dutch, on horseback, directed everyone, and a group of people, like hungry wolves, scoured the entire O'Driscoll Gang camp.
And this was reality, not a game, so even their clothes were all taken, leaving only corpses dressed in underwear, discarded in the ruined camp.
"Hey, Dutch, look what I found!" Bill happily walked up holding a map, then handed it to Dutch, who was sitting on his horse.
Dutch took it, glanced at it, then threw it back on the ground.
"It's a map, Bill. The O'Driscoll Gang wanted to rob Mr. Cornwall's train. It's said there's a pile of unregistered bonds on that train."
"Then why don't we take it, Dutch?!" Bill picked up the map again and asked, confused.
"Look, I even found dynamite in here. Why don't we rob Cornwall's train instead of the O'Driscoll Gang?" Bill held up the dynamite in front of him.
Dutch shook his head, looking at the gang members who had gathered around upon hearing about a robbery, a smile appearing on his face.
"No, boys, we can't rob this train. The Pinkerton Detective's jurisdiction in the East has been completely suspended by the Federal Congress. If we commit a major crime now, they'll have an excuse to regain Eastern jurisdiction, and then our situation will become dangerous.
Moreover, Mr. Leviticus Cornwall is not easy to deal with. He is an oil tycoon, a railroad magnate, a sugar merchant, and holds extremely high influence here. A few thousand dollars in bonds is not a good plan for us to offend Mr. Cornwall. At least until we truly have strength in the future, we still need to lie low as much as possible.
Alright, boys, we can head back. I can't wait for the snowstorm to end and usher in a brand new rebirth! Giddy up!"
Accompanied by the neighing of horses, led by Dutch, the group returned to Valentine.
And the young man Kieran was successfully captured by Arthur and David.
There was a gold bar in this snowy mountain, but compared to the one hundred fifty thousand dollars, Dutch wasn't planning on retrieving these gold bars.
Compared to the gold bars, he had more important things to do.
Time flew by. Not robbing Cornwall's train was an unimaginable thing for the Van der Linde Gang, because normally, Dutch would certainly have carried out this hard-won robbery.
But for the past two weeks, he had actually been holed up in his room every day, doing who knows what.
Currently, only Arthur had taken a couple of glances, and only Hosea truly understood what Dutch was doing.
"Oh, Dutch, I really didn't know you could make something like this. I can't imagine that with your gun-wielding hand, you could actually draw these... these revealing clothes!"
Hosea stared, dumbfounded, at the design sketches in Dutch's hand and the pile of sketches stacked on the surrounding tables.
These papers were all found from Mary-Beth; she liked writing novels, so borrowing paper from her was definitely the right choice.
And at this moment, in Hosea's hand, those papers depicted new styles of men's and women's clothing.
These styles were exceptionally beautiful and had never been seen before. Hosea, at least, felt that some of these clothes were so revealing he could barely look at them directly, but undeniably, these clothes were extremely eye-catching.
"Oh Dutch, are you perhaps planning to sell these clothes? Are we really going to leave the gang life and enter civilian life?" Hosea was incredulous.
Truly incredible.
As an old friend, an old pal, he had long seen through Dutch's character. Not robbing Cornwall's train had already been shocking enough, but he never expected to be even more shocked now, even doubting if he had gone to heaven.
Otherwise, Dutch wouldn't possibly have such an idea!
In fact, not only Dutch liked this kind of robbing and carefree life, but the other men in the gang also liked it, including Arthur.
Hosea had left the gang when he was young, and later, after his lover died, he couldn't adjust and came back. Arthur also said he wanted a stable life, but if he really had to work on a farm every day, he would find it hard to accept. Even the most reserved John found it hard to accept, let alone them.
These people had spent their lives since childhood robbing and killing, and half their lives were spent in gang life. Stability was only a longing during times of turmoil. If their robberies were always exceptionally smooth, they wouldn't even think about so-called stability.
Just like thinking of going back to the past when the economy is bad.
It's just human nature.
That's why Hosea felt shocked now, unable to accept, to the point where even he himself couldn't accept it.
"Dutch, I'm not trying to pour cold water on your idea. But can we really support this gang just by selling clothes? Or rather, can we really settle down by selling clothes? Didn't you say before that you wanted to sell firearms? What about now?"
Dutch smiled, he shook his head, holding a cigar between his fingers, and chuckled: "Oh ho ho ho, Hosea, you're thinking too simply. Selling clothes is just our entry ticket into civilized society. What truly brings profit isn't clothes, but connections.
Actually, I was thinking of selling moonshine before, but moonshine isn't suitable for our current low-key objective, and moonshine can only bring profit, not connections, so moonshine isn't suitable for our ultimate goal."
"Connections? How does selling clothes bring connections, Dutch?" Hosea didn't understand, he really didn't understand. The so-called Van der Linde Gang's mastermind is only truly a mastermind within the Van der Linde Gang.