96. Good Haul

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Inside was the lockbox that should be carrying the money. But unlike in the game, beside the lockbox were a few small sacks that clinked when lifted, either filled with jewelry or gold nuggets. They worked fast, taking out the lockbox, prying it open, emptying whatever they found into their saddlebags, money first, then getting all of the small sacks filled with gold nuggets or jewelry, and lastly, inside the lockbox, there's also a few papers that looked like bank bonds or bearer notes.

Once done, Arthur wanted to go but Caleb said wait, and he went to take the guns of the guards along with him, including the Lancaster repeater that was owned by the driver of the wagon, and gave it to Arthur. He got around 6 Cattleman and 4 Carbin Repeaters.

Arthur doesn't know why Caleb did this but he didn't ask, after that they got in their horse and left the wreckage behind as they rode hard, putting miles between themselves and the wreckage. The sun was high now, the heat oppressive, but neither man slowed.

"We'll cut through Big Valley," Arthur called over the thunder of hooves. "Throw off any pursuit."

Caleb nodded. "Then loop back to camp by nightfall."

They rode in silence after that, the weight of their haul a comforting presence.

Arthur was the first to laugh, pulling off his mask as they rode south. "That was clean. Fast. You weren't kidding, Caleb. Damn near perfect."

Caleb pulled off his mask and wiped the sweat from his brow, one hand on the reins. "I told you. No parades. No messy shootout. In, out, done."

After that, Caleb turned to look at their saddlebags before back focusing on the road. "Gotta be at least more than one grand we got back there," he said. "Plus the golds or small jewelry filled sack and the bank bonds."

Arthur whistled, the kind of long, slow drawl that told of contentment and a job well done. "That's a big haul, alright," he said, leaning back in his saddle with a satisfied grunt. "Dutch's eyes are gonna damn near pop out his skull. The man might actually start singin' again."

Caleb chuckled, glancing over with a sly grin. "You think with this kind of loot, he'll stop looking into the things we did back in Valentine's?"

Arthur snorted. "Stop? Hell, he'll probably act like it never happened if he hears what we do in Valentine."

Caleb then chuckled and decided to tease, as he adjusted himself at his saddle. "Hell, then at this point, Dutch wouldn't even care if you'd gone on a romantic getaway with Mary. Long as you brought back this kinda money."

Arthur immediately glared but there was no real fire behind it, his expression caught between annoyance and amusement. "Christ, you're gettin' cheekier by the day, Caleb. Who the hell's been fillin' your head with nonsense? Sean? Uncle? Or both?"

Caleb faked a wounded expression, hand dramatically pressed to his chest as if he'd just been accused of a grave sin. "Now that's just cruel and hurtful, Arthur. I'd rather be compared to a 2 dollar whore than those two loudmouths. At least whores got some dignity and work ethic."

Arthur barked a laugh, shaking his head. "That's a bit much, but I get the sentiment. Ain't nothing worse than bein' lumped in with those two."

The two men shared a moment of levity, the laughter easing the tension of the job they'd pulled off. It had been a clean hit, like Caleb promised. No gunfights, no blood spilled, no Pinkertons or lawmen chasing after them. Just a wrecked wagon, a few bruised and unconscious guards, and a whole lot of money and valuables.

They continued west past Monto's Rest, letting their horses slow to a light trot, taking in the sights and sounds of the wilderness. Then they passed through Diablo Ridge and continued to head west toward Dakota River.

When they reached the Dakota River, they found the shallow crossing near the bend, one Caleb had marked in his memory. They crossed with care, water splashing up their horses' legs. A small flock of geese took off at their approach, honking loudly as they flapped over the treetops.

"Flatneck Station's just up ahead," Arthur said. "We camp out in the grove south of there. Close enough to make it to camp before Dutch gets his panties in a twist."

Caleb nodded. "Yeah. It's out of the way, quiet. Perfect for laying low till nightfall."

They followed the path south, the sound of hooves now muffled by the dirt road and the gentle canopy of leaves above.

Soon enough, they found a small grove surrounded by thick brush and a few fallen trees, a spot clearly used before by travelers or outlaws needing a hidden respite. Caleb dismounted first, tying his horse to a low branch, Arthur following suit a moment later.

They worked in unison, pulling off their saddlebags and unfastening the packs. The makeshift loot was heavier than it looked, the bags bulging with folded notes, jingling sacks, and shiny trinkets. One by one, they set it all down in a circle before them.

"Alright," Arthur said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see what we're really sittin' on."

They sorted it quickly. First came the cash, counted and bundled, Caleb was meticulous, using both his experience from his old life and his skills to organize it with precision. It took time, but it was worth it.

"1,300 dollars in cash even," Arthur said, his brows rising. "Damn. A pretty good haul for a good day's work I say. We each get 300 dollars for a cut, and the rest for the gang."

Next came the gold nuggets. There were eight in total, and Caleb knew from that it was 25 dollars for each gold nugget, so they'd fetch about 200 dollars in total. Arthur said that Caleb can take some if he wants as his cut, and he take 2 pieces. As for Arthur, he doesn't take any.

The jewelry was a little more difficult to estimate, but between the rings, earrings, and the few fancy necklaces they found in the small sacks, Caleb figured it was somewhere around 150 dollars. Maybe more, depending on the fence or if Hosea found the right buyer.

Then came the last item, the bank bonds and bearer bonds.

Arthur picked one up, turning it over in his hand. "These… I dunno how to value these. Got Hosea written all over it."

Caleb nodded. "Yeah. Bonds like these could be worth a lot or nothin'. Depends if they're traceable, expired, or if someone's lookin' to buy without askin' questions."

"We'll let Dutch and Hosea handle it. Best we don't get too curious."

Once the haul was stashed back into the bags, with some hidden beneath branches and others buried slightly to avoid detection, Caleb stood up, brushing off his knees. "I'll go get us something to eat."

He grabbed his bow and disappeared into the underbrush with the ease of someone used to moving quietly, his Bow (Lvl 2) skill making quick work of tracking. It didn't take long before he returned with two plump rabbits slung over his shoulder.

Arthur had already gathered some rocks into a circle and was pulling dry twigs and kindling from his saddlebag.

Caleb skinned the rabbits efficiently, his hands stained but practiced. The meat sizzled faintly over the crackling flame once it was skewered and propped above the fire. The smell of roasted meat filled the small grove, mixing with the scent of damp earth and pine.

Arthur, never far from his precious creature comforts, dug into his pack and pulled out a small tin coffee pot, a satchel of coffee powder, and his canteen.

"I don't know what I'd do without this," he muttered, pouring water into the pot and dumping in a generous spoonful of coffee. He set it on the edge of the fire to boil.

As the rabbits cooked and the coffee brewed, the two men leaned back against the log behind them. The weight of the day, the thrill of the heist, and the comfort of safety all mingled into a rare feeling of satisfaction.

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "I want to ask, since when do you carry a coffee pot with you, Arthur?"

"Since Pearson's brewed coffee started tastin' like boiled dirt, I don't know why he put it that time," Arthur grumbled. "A man's gotta have standards."

Caleb snorted. "Says the fella who drinks whiskey straight from the bottle back at camp."

"That's different," Arthur insisted, looking at the crackling fire cooking the meat. "Whiskey's for forgetting. Coffee's for wakin' up so you can remember why you drink whiskey."

Caleb shook his head, grinning at that. "Can't argue with that logic."

The coffee brewed dark and strong, its bitter scent cutting through the woodsmoke. Arthur poured two tin cups full, handing one to Caleb.

"To a clean job," Arthur said, raising his cup.

Caleb clinked his against it. "And many more."

They ate in comfortable silence, the fire crackling between them. The rabbit was tender, the coffee hot and bracing, sipping it slowly and letting the night settle in around them.

Crickets chirped in the distance. The trees rustled gently in the wind. Somewhere far off, the faint cry of a wolf echoed, but neither man moved. Their guns were nearby, and their senses sharper than most.

When the stars began to glitter above them, Arthur stood and stretched. "We'll head out in a few minutes. Should be dark enough now."

Caleb nodded, feeling his muscles respond in kind. The fire was doused, the campsite cleared of evidence. They buried the ashes and kicked dirt over the area like they'd never been there.

The loot was packed, horses saddled, and before long they were on the road again, the path winding along toward Horseshoe Overlook.

"You never did say why you took all them guns, Caleb," Arthur remarked as they neared Horseshoe Overlook.

Caleb shrugged. "Figured we could use 'em. Extra firepower never hurts. Plus, if we sell 'em, that's more money for the gang."

Arthur nodded. "Smart. Real smart." He paused, then added, "You're good at this, Caleb. Plannin' ahead. Thinkin' on your feet."

Caleb smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward beneath the low shadow of his hat, and he looked over at Arthur.

"Thanks," he said, the word genuine, edged with a quiet kind of grit. "In a world like this… you don't think smart and fast, you're dead. That's the way it is. This place'll swallow you whole and leave you rottin' somewhere in a ditch. Seen it happen too many times."

Arthur stayed silent for a moment, then dipped his head in agreement. The truth in Caleb's words wasn't something he could argue with. The West was unforgiving, and survival wasn't guaranteed, not for outlaws, not for anyone.

The wind rustled through the leaves, stirring the scent of pine and old rain as they passed through a narrow grove. Birds shifted overhead, disturbed by their slow passage, and then the trees began to thin.

The trail opened up, and the familiar sight of Horseshoe Overlook came into view, nestled snug between the cliffs and woods. Campfires flickered gently in the distance, casting orange glows across tents and canvas, while voices murmured from around the main fire where the others had gathered for the evening.

Arthur and Caleb rode in slow, the rhythm of their horses' hooves steady, almost peaceful. They hitched their horses to the hitching post, giving the animals a brief pat before grabbing their saddlebags. The leather creaked as they slung them over their shoulders, heavy with the day's haul.

As they made their way toward Dutch's tent, the sound of low murmuring reached their ears. Peering through the half open flap, they saw Dutch sitting at his bed, a book in hand, while Molly sat at his knees, her head resting against his shoulder. The scene was intimate, almost peaceful, something rare in their line of work.

Arthur, never one for niceties when business needed doing, cleared his throat with a grunt. A short, rough sound meant to interrupt politely or as politely as Arthur ever managed. Dutch looked up, lowering the well worn book in his hands. Molly, his knees, turned with a slight frown before recognizing the two men. She smiled briefly, gave Dutch's shoulder a soft pat, and stood up, smoothing her skirt as she stepped aside.

...

Name: Caleb Thorne

Age: 23

Body Attributes:

- Strength: 7/10

- Agility: 6/10

- Perception: 8/10

- Stamina: 7/10

- Charm: 5/10

- Luck: 6/10

Skills:

- Handgun (Lvl 2)

- Rifle (Lvl 2)

- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)

- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)

- Knife (Lvl 1)

- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)

- Sneaking (Lvl 2)

- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)

- Poker (Lvl 2)

- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)

- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)

- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)

- Bow (Lvl 2)

- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)

- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)

- Crafting (Lv1)

- Persuasion (Lvl 2)

- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)

Money: 1256 dollars and 43 cents and 2 gold nuggets

Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets