p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Horse thievery became Dell's main staple. She had a natural talent for horses, the Broncos were calmer and trusting in the presence of the young girl. Because of this ability, Dell becomes an expert in luring even the most headstrong horses from the hitching posts of local saloons without alerting the riders or patrons of the crime. Then afterward she sold the fillies to Mr. Larson, the dubious owner of the neighboring town's stables, who never batted an eye when Dell always rode in on the horse she planned to sell him./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"She knew stealing horses was the equivalent to murder, especially out in the West, where equines was a person's livelihood. Guilt would probably eat at her if her intended targets weren't well-to-do businessmen whose pockets could afford another pony./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The money Dell stole from her "guide" was dwindling fast, she spent a large amount when visiting the Creedstad general store, prior to the theft of Jolie, for supplies after an appointment with the sneering tailor to fit the clothes stolen from the unguarded suitcase of a male train passenger. She was in dire need for a big score and soon, her tinned ration supply receding at an alerting rate./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""Ya wanna make serious bank?" Mr. Larson asks one foggy morning, leaning against the wooden gate of the stall as Dell brushed the slightly tangled mane of a Dutch Warmblood. Sometimes Dell worked at the stables when she needed to lay low until the law of a neighboring town stop sniffing around for a horse thief to string /"What do you mean, sir?" She knew to be wary about any job suggestion the stable owner gave her. Mr. Larson, a hefty Midwestern man with a thinning scalp of caramel hair, steely-eyed, with a bear-like rumble of a voice, is a notorious swindler who uses down-on-their-luck schmucks to do his dirty work and then, is not afraid to finger them for the /"Ya know, a gig, one that could fill up ya pockets handsomely," Though facing away from the man, she could tell the stable owner was becoming slightly annoyed by Dell's oblivious attitude, the man had a rigid no-bullshit /"Oh! What is it then?" Dell always enjoys playing the role of a fool, everyone underestimates her cleverness because of her age and impoverished appearance. And never fail to be flabbergasted when realizing they have been hoodwinked, cursing the young thief's name in the wind as she rides into the next town with a heavier satchel and a sly grin plastered on her /"I'm glad you asked, Mr. Jennings," Mr. Larson said in a sing-song voice that made Dell suppress a cringe at the Mr. It became apparent early for Dell, many people believed she was a boy. A belief only made truer by her lanky shapeless figure that swam in dark billowing shirts, often hung off her narrow shoulders, despite it buttoned up to her sternum. The cuffs of her oil-ruined pants rested high above her ankle, the ill-fit hem was cinched tightly to her amorphous hips by a well-worn belt. And her hair, pixie-cut mop of auburn locks, often hidden underneath a tan Stetson hat, Dell stole from a drunken man asleep at the bar of the saloon she was scoping out. To everyone else, Dell looked to be a young orphaned boy, too tall and lithe for his clothes and filthy from the backroads the forgotten must survive on. A few months earlier, she definitely had been offended by Mr. Larson's assumption of gender, but now Dell knew it was a blessing, the young thief learn quickly it was better to be a wayward boy in the West, then a wayward /"Ever heard a Hoagy Macintosh?"br /Snapped out of her thoughts, Dell shook her head "No. Who's that?"br /Mr. Larson let out a heavy sigh behind her, grumbling underneath his smoky breath about clueless brats. Ignoring the miffed owner, Dell finished brushing the horse's mare, she admires dark silky hair as the strands seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the stable. The glow of the horse's mane reminded her of a simpler time in her past, she often forced herself to not think upon it, for it was just too painful to recall. As she returns once again to the present, Dell noticed Mr. Larson began explains further "Hoagy Macintosh is a wealthy doctor from New England, comes a long line of well-respected physicians-"br /"What does this have to do with the job?" She turned to the man, irritated. He was beating around the bush, she could tell. Usually, Mr. Larson was very straightforward with his demands and bargaining, so this was unknown for Dell, it terrified /"If ya didn't interrupt, brat, I would have gotten to the goddam' point!" Mr. Larson growled, annoyance flashing on his aged face before returning to the man's regular scowl "Long story short, he's in town and owns me some money from a poker game a few years back."br /Now, was that so hard to say? "Okay. How does this involve me?" Dell responds, watching as another stablehand, whose name Dell could never place, slip past her to grab the reigns of Dutch Warmblood. The stable hand guided the snorting bronco around the two and outside to the fenced-in field for /When Dell glanced back at Mr. Larson, a sense of dread filled her belly as the stable owner grinned wolfly at her, showing off his missing front tooth "I want ya to steal the bastard's horse."/p
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p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"* * */p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The sense of dread never left her./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Not even after she delivered the silver Turkoman to the grasp of Mr. Larson, grinning crazily like a man who lost his mind. "Thank ya for ya service, Mr. Jennings!" The man celebrated, clapping Dell in the back with a level of force that would send an unbalanced person to the ground. "...All in a day's work, Mr. Larson" She wheezed out, her lungs heaved from nearly having the air knocked out "So where's my payment?".br /Mr. Larson simply waved her over, telling the young thief to come back in a week and a half, claiming that once the horse is sold, she will be /Irate, Dell stormed out of the stables. She wasn't too pleased about waiting for the couple of weeks to get paid, people typically pay her once the horse is in their possession. Money was already tight of her, food was scarce back at her campsite, there was only a three-days worth of canned goods which mean she is going to go hungry before getting paid by Mr. Larson. She groaned aloud, rubbing a hand across her face, disgusted at the filth that appeared on her glove. Wishing deeply that she had the money to take a nice soak at the town's hotel, guess she could wash up in the river, even though it was running with the melted snow from winter as the season of spring quickly approached. She grimaced at the thought of the frigid water kissing her bare skin, deciding that it was better to wait the week and a half than take her chances with /Dell strolled down the dirt road towards the town of Underwell, a tiny mining town known for its abundance of coal in the surrounding mountainside and its vast criminal underground. Though the town does not seem like a community of thieves, liars, and gunslingers with the freshly-painted houses, clean roads, quiet shops, and kind-looking people. But once the sun slips past the mountains, that when the low-lifes come out./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The sun hangs high in the clear blue sky, signaling noontime. Dell made her way towards the saloon, she has visited the bar to drink after the death of Jolie but got refused by an older barmaid, scolding the youth "Come back when there's sum hair on ya chest". Jolie, her late mare got bit by a rattlesnake while the two stroll through some tall grass, Dell tried to get the bronco to Mr. Larson get aid. The Midwestern man directed the distraught thief up to his office, distracting the youth with details of his new gramophone as a nameless stable-hand led the stumbling Turkoman behind the stable. Dell appreciates Mr. Larson turning up the gramophone in his office, muting the gunshot underneath the second-floor window./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Dell snapped out of her thoughts when she noticed a flash of white in the corner of her eye, she grinned as she caught sight of her prize from the theft. At the hitching post stood the white Arabian owned by one Hoagy Macintosh. When she went to steal the horse, she became intrigued by the powerful grace of the snow-colored stallion, deciding at the moment to steal the horse for her personal use. To swindle Mr. Larson, she decided to grab the horse next to the stallion, the silver Turkoman that is residing in his stable./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The young Arabian noticed the young thief's arrival and announced his annoyance, stomping an impatient hoof upon the ground, stirring up puffs of dust. Dell rolled her eyes at the act, the stallion was barely out of his time of being a foal, so she knew the horse was yet to be /"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You hate waiting, boy," Reaching out to stroke the abrasive equine's colorless mane, the stallion relaxed underneath the girl's hand, leaning closer into her palm. Dell smiled softly, untangling her hand from the horse's silky hair, she proceeded to climb onto the stallion, with much difficulty. The equine was unusually tall for an Arabian horse, at least a good hand or two taller than average. And Dell's atypical height didn't help her struggle with climbing on top of the horse, luckily the Arabian stay still as the girl managed to swing her leg over the stallion's wide back, securing her boot in the other /"Come on, boy, let's go," She said, pulling the stallion into a trot down the main road as they entered the outskirts of Underwell./p
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p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"* * */p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""Fucking asshole!" Dell cried /Early in the day, she returned to the Underwell stables a week-and-a-half later, to collect her payment. "I haven't sold the horse yet," Mr. Larson called out from his second-floor office as the young thief entered the stable. Dell blinked for a moment, then her confusion morph to anger "What? You told me that I would be paid in a week and a half. It's been a week and a half! Where's my money?" Her voice bounced off the wood walls of the stable, startling a few of the horses in nearby stalls. Dell knew better than to cause a public scene, but she was too livid by Mr. Larson's deception to care./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Mr. Larson, unfazed by the youth's outburst, clambered down the wood stairs that groaned underneath the weight of the burly man "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Jennings," The man said, tilting his balding head down in mocking guilt, Dell fought the urge to knock out his remaining front tooth as the stable owner approached her. "Ya see, the fella I was intending to sell the Turkoman to, never showed. So I have been scrambling to find a new buyer, unfortunately, I hadn't got much luck" Dell huffed, scrubbing her face with her hand. She was nearly out of money, despite taking on a couple of horse stealing jobs, to provide some food for herself and her new horse. But it still wasn't enough, and now the law slowly closing in on her after a botched theft in a few towns over, she needed to leave town soon with cash in her /"How long you do need?"br /"Another week." Mr. Larson quickly added when Dell shot the owner a dumbfounded expression "An old buddy of mine coming to town, he owns land in Michigan, he'll take the horse off my hands for the same price I gave the other fella." Mr. Larson then stuck out a paw-like hand in front of the conflicted horse thief "Do we have a deal, Mr. Jennings?" Dell stared down at the hand as if she had never seen one before. Knowing this was probably of Mr. Larson's scams to sell her out to the law, in order to keep the cash, and by shaking the man's hand, she might as well sign her death certificate too. But money was scarce, she desperately needs the profits from the Turkoman sale to keep her afloat, at least until she reaches the next /Throwing all caution to the wind, Dell reached out and shook the meaty /"You have a deal, Mr. Larson."/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px auto 1.286em; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"strongHi there!/strong/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"strongI wanted to let you guys know that the prologue is actually in three parts because I cannot write anything short and simple ; ). But don't fret, the Van Der Linde gang makes their grand appearance in the next chapter./strong/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"strongI hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know if there are any grammar errors. Also, don't be afraid to leave a comment below, constructive criticism is welcomed./strong/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"strongThx,/strong/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto 0px; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"strongR/strong/p