Arthur stewed in furious silence the entire ride back to Beaver Hollow. Dutch and Micah's words kept repeating themselves over and over in his head. I tried. He didn't make it. That patrol killed him. How could he have been such a goddamn fool? He should have listened to Wilhelmina; he should have pulled Marston aside and told him they were getting the hell out of there with the women that morning. He should have done...something. What were they going to tell Abigail?

I tried. Had Dutch tried? Arthur had been so focused on getting into that armored car to get to that money, he hadn't even considered the possibility that Dutch wouldn't be able to scoop John up after he'd tumbled off the back of that train car. It sounded like Marston had been shot, but everything had happened so fast it was hard to tell. How had he been stupid enough to think they might finally have just a little bit of goddamn luck? Arthur just couldn't work it out, couldn't make himself believe it.

Dutch pulled up on The Count's reins just as they were getting ready to head up the trail into camp. A wagon was coming down towards them, Strauss's, it looked like. The rest of them all pulled their horses into a skidding stop as Tilly called out from the driver's bench, Karen wielding the reins while Jack sat between them. Two horses flanked one side of the wagon, Sean on Ennis while Sam rode Tulip just behind him.

"They came and took Willa and Abigail! I got the boys out of there, but they took them two!"

Arthur felt his chest tighten up like a vice was gripping it. He stiffened, tried to keep his voice from betraying the fresh fury welling up in him. "Who did!?"

"Agent Milton's men! They said they was takin' 'em to Van Horn! They're gonna be tried for murder!"

Dutch bowed his head, eyes widening just for a moment. Abigail? The Pinkertons had taken Abigail? He'd certainly asked for Joe to follow the girls, to let Everett Thorne know about his sister's location, but Dutch was taken completely off guard by this new development. He didn't even have time to think of the implications. "I...I am sorry to hear that!"

Micah leaned over slightly on Dutch's other side, resting one of his arms on Baylock's saddlehorn. "We gotta let 'em go...John's, uh...well..." He angled his head, casting a sidelong glance back at Jack for a moment. "Sorry, son. Without John, Abigail's just bait. And it ain't like the other one was good for all that much anyway, truth be told. We got a bunch of money, Dutch. They're just girls, they won't do nothin' to 'em."

Dutch listened to Micah, knitting his brows. He cast a quick glance back at Arthur. His lieutenant looked like he was about to leap off his horse and rip Micah's throat clean out.

"We need to keep ridin' on this one, Dutch. You know it, every man here knows it..."

Arthur couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "Goddamnit Dutch, now I know you and Miss Thorne don't get along, but you really just gonna let that boy be made an orphan!?"

"It ain't like that!" Dutch interjected, angling his head back toward Arthur.

Arthur's eyes widened, his voice going up an octave in sheer disbelief. "Well, what is it like!?" He looked back toward Javier and Bill, neither of whom was willing to make eye contact with him.

Micah leaned back in his saddle, pointing a finger at Arthur from behind Dutch's back. "Don't be a goddamn fool, Morgan! I think the rest of us can agree we wanna get out of this alive! They're just a couple'a girls, Dutch..."

Dutch looked down again, but it didn't take him long to decide. His mouth slanted into a hard line as he glanced over and acknowledged Micah. "You're right."

"Dutch!" Arthur threw down the reins, sliding down off the saddle and almost catching his foot up in the stirrup in his haste to get over to Dutch, to stand in front of him and plead with him not to make this choice. Abandoning the women? They'd never operated like this before; Dutch had never operated like this before.

Dutch looked down as Arthur came up beside him and shook his head. "It pains me to say it, Arthur...but he is right."

"Dutch!" Arthur splayed his hands at his sides. "Not even for the goddamn boy!?"

Dutch just shook his head, shook Arthur off like so much tired baggage and bucked his heels into The Count's sides. "C'mon, fellas!"

Arthur had to take a few lurching steps backwards when The Count took off from right beside him, hooves thundering. Dutch disappeared up around the wagon and every other man followed him, except for Sadie. She stayed behind, shaking her head with a bitter cast to her features.

He exhaled a few of those bull's breaths, his blood up, staring through the dust they'd kicked up in their wake. Suddenly Arthur let out a frustrated curse and kicked his boot into the dirt uselessly. "Shit! Well that's that then, I guess!" He paused, settling his hands on his hips, shifting on his feet. He looked at the ground. "All them goddamn years..."

Sadie frowned. She could only imagine what he must have been working through at that moment. "We'll go get 'em, Arthur. You and me's all we need..."

Sean brought Ennis up closer to Arthur and Sadie. "Aye, I'll come along wit' yas, we can-"

"No." Arthur shook his head, fists flexing at his sides for a few moments. "No...you're gonna take this..." He raised his head decisively and walked around to Rei's backside, hefting down the heavy sack that had been strapped to the mare's hindquarters. It was full of the army's payroll money.

Arthur brought the sack over to the wagon and threw it into the back before turning to come up beside Karen. "All of you, take that money and you go wait at Copperhead Landing..."

"English, you sure about this? Miss Jones here can keep 'em safe..." Ennis shifted uncomfortably underneath Sean, causing him to sway in the saddle a bit. He looked on in uncharacteristic concern, making brief and sober eye contact with Karen. She nodded back at him, gaze hardened.

"Yes, I'm sure. Sean, you...you and Karen need to get them down there, and you wait for us."

Sean was no good in a fight, not really, and everyone knew it. Better for him to stay with Karen, who actually was a good shot; and Tilly, who could be fierce as a pole cat when cornered, thanks to her bad old days running with the Foreman gang. Arthur would never be able to let the Irishman know how much it meant that he wanted to go with them, though. With the way such deep lines had been drawn in the sand now, it gave him some small comfort to know there were still those among them who hadn't forsaken the honor that bound them to their found family.

Sam urged Tulip forward a little awkwardly to come up beside Sean, narrowing his eyes at Arthur. "I'm comin' with you!"

Sean and Arthur both looked over at him. Arthur shook his head, waving a hand in the air dismissively as he turned back towards Rei. "No! You go wit' them, Sam. They'll keep you safe."

"I ain't leavin' Miss Willa! I shot that wolf, I can help! Please, Arthur, let me help! Look, I'm a kid, ain't no one gonna notice me! What if...what if I can get in someplace you can't!?"

Arthur pulled himself up onto Llamrei's saddle, reaching up to wipe a hand across his mouth. Things were happening too fast. He had barely started to process what had happened to John, and now the women? His woman? And was Jack going to lose both of his folks in a single day? "Jesus Christ, fine, kid! But you listen to me." He pointed a finger in Sam's direction, voice lowering dangerously. "You keep outta the way. You don't put yourself in danger. You know she wouldn't want that. And we don't know what we're gonna find out there."

Sadie narrowed her eyes, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "Arthur..."

Arthur cut a hand through the air, effectively silencing her. "Not now, Sadie! Kid can make his own goddamn decisions and we ain't got time to argue over it! Sean, you get these girls down to Copperhead Landing! Jack...we're gonna go get your mama." Arthur tugged on Rei's reins, urging her to turn around in the direction they'd ridden up from. "Mrs. Adler, Mr. Bellefleur! Ride with me!"

Wilhelmina's eyes fluttered open. Soft morning sunlight filtered in through the cream colored lace curtains that hung in the window at the far side of the room. She could see all the little motes of dust floating through it. Her mouth opened wide to let a yawn escape, and she snuggled up closer to the body in the bed beside her. "Mornin', Lettie," she mumbled into her sister's shoulder.

Lettie had her own bed over against the adjacent wall, but ever since their father had passed she had taken to crawling in with Wilhelmina most nights. They were twins, but Willa had been born first and Loretta had always been the frailer and meeker of the two. She cried often, and seemed to always be seeking her sister's attentions. She would never stand up to their brother, not like Wilhelmina did. Willa had a habit of pissing Everett off; she had become a nasty little sixteen year old, ready and willing to pick fights with him when she could.

"The stag is looking for the starlings..."

Willa furrowed her brows sleepily. "Lettie? You talkin' in your sleep again...?"

"He can't find them. He can't find them."

Willa recoiled slightly from where she'd been curled up against her sister's back, reached up and shook Lettie's shoulder gently. It almost sounded like her sister was crying. "Wake up."

Lettie's voice changed suddenly, assaulting her in a guttural hiss. "You need to wake up!"

Willa blinked, angled herself up on her elbow and grabbed Loretta's shoulder firmly to roll her over. She was greeted with a swollen blue caricature of her sister's face; bulbous, milky, unseeing eyes protruded from their sockets, and her neck marked up with blackened and yellowed bruises from where she'd been strangled.

"You need to wake up. You need to wake up! YOU NEED TO WAKE UP!" Her sister shrieked and lunged for her the way a snake might strike, blackened fingers curled into grasping claws.

And suddenly Willa was opening her eyes again, gasping for breath and blinking hard, trying to focus her vision; it was swimming with little dark floaties and she felt dizzy, felt like she was going to throw up. She looked around wildly, no clue as to where she was for a few moments. The whole right side of her head fucking hurt.

She was on the floor. On the floor of Black Belle's shack. She started trying to get to her feet before her brain caught up with her and she realized she couldn't move. The frustrated cry that escaped her at this realization sounded foreign in her ears, cracked and dry and far away. The Pinkertons. She'd been caught by the Pinkertons.

She heard creaking footsteps coming up the porch steps outside and she turned her head frantically, looking for anything there on the floor she could use to cut her bindings. She was on her belly though, felt like a goddamn fish that had been tossed absently on the beach instead of back into the water.

"Abigail!? Tilly!?" She angled her head, calling out for the other women in a whispered hiss. No one answered. She vaguely remembered hearing one of the agents say they'd let Tilly and the boys go in exchange for herself. She hoped that was what happened. If they could warn Arthur and the others, maybe it would give them all time to get away before the Pinkertons came down on them, too. But what had become of Abigail?

The front door of the shack opened, letting afternoon sunlight stream into the room. It blinded her for a second. She could see all those little dust motes floating around the silhouette that stood there before the door was being shut and her vision came back into focus.

"Hm. You're finally awake. This is a nice little hidey-hole you found yourself, Mina. I don't think those Pinkerton idiots ever would have found you if it hadn't been for Micah's creepy friend, there..."

Willa felt her chest tighten up. The urge to start hyperventilating was very real, and she had to swallow it down and force herself to keep breathing as normally as she could. "Where's Abigail?"

Everett took a few steps closer, apparently in no rush. He leaned down and grabbed her by one bicep, hauling her over onto her back roughly. "Pinkertons took her. Up to Van Horn. Gonna use her for bait to bring Dutch and the rest of 'em in. They been real bad boys, Mina." Everett tsked, straightening himself up.

She grimaced, curling her legs up and trying to squirm backwards away from him. Her mind raced, trying to fit the pieces together. "Why?"

He cocked an eyebrow, reaching for the hunting knife he kept at his belt. "Why what?"

"I...I gave you a chance, Everett. I let you go so that we could stop all of this! You had your goddamn money...what else do you want!?" She spat up at him, wriggling, struggling against the ropes that bound her.

He tilted his head, a look something like pity flashing across his battered features just for a moment. "That was your mistake, dear sister. You should have killed me. You think I'd really forget about all of this? You think I'd forget about what you did to Cliff?" He drew the knife from his belt, clutching the handle tightly in his fist. "You have always been a goddamn hindrance. A goddamn thorn in my side. And your new friends, there? Well, they're just about as useless as you are. Old Dutch van der Linde thinks he's so smart...well, he ain't nothin' but a bloodthirsty lunatic. He thinks I'm gonna be payin' him for bringin' me to you." Everett chuckled. "Micah 'n me are gonna make sure him and his boys get turned in for them bounties they got on their heads instead..."

Sadie and Arthur bid Sam to stay back, behind the buildings and closer to the woods on the western side of Van Horn. There was going to be violence, and though he'd fought and yelled and hissed at them on the ride in, he knew that they were right.

They'd used binoculars to check out what was going on in the little lakeside port before heading down in, and it was swarming with Pinkerton agents. They'd managed to catch a glimpse of Abigail being forced into the little trading post down on the docks at the north side of the town, so that was where they'd headed. They tried to be tactful about it, though. If they flew in guns blazing, the men in the trading post would immediately be alerted to their presence and that would probably be the end of Abigail and Wilhelmina.

Instead, they'd decided to ride back up into the woods and sneak into town from the north side. They left Sam with the horses and crept down along the beach, approaching the little post office there from the back. Arthur came up behind one man and drew a knife across his throat, letting him slip easily to the ground with nary a sound.

They used throwing knives to take out two more men further down on the docks, and then it seemed their way into the trading post was clear. Arthur wished they could have gone in under the cover of night, but it was what it was; they didn't have the time to waste waiting for better conditions. They did wait before skirting down toward the trading post, stopping to take cover behind crates and barrels that littered the dock in case any men on the shore happened to be looking.

They craned their necks out to check the rest of town before standing and quickly making their way to the building at the end of the dock. Sadie peered in through a window, glancing over at Arthur and whispering. "I see Abigail tied up in there. And two men."

Arthur's brow knitted as he rested his hand on the butt of his revolver. "Willa?"

Sadie shook her head and shrugged as they reached the door. "Gotta be in there somewhere, though."

They both brought their guns up as Arthur kicked in the door, hoping to take the Pinkertons by surprise. If she was dead already, he didn't know what he'd do. He had to shove the thought away. He'd shot both the men standing over Abigail before they'd even gotten a chance to bring their guns up to aim.

Sadie made her way over, holstering her revolver so that she could work at getting Abigail untied. Arthur swiveled his head, looking around for any sign of where they had Willa. "Abigail-"

Suddenly a door swung open near the back of the shop where Arthur had moved to and there stood Agent Milton with his own pistol drawn, two more men flanking him as he came through the doorway and forced Arthur to back up. "Not so fast, Mr. Morgan." He glanced around as one of his men moved forward with a gun drawn on Sadie, stopping her in her tracks before she had time to reach for her own revolver again.

Milton's eyes landed back on Arthur after he'd made a quick assessment. "Old pal Dutch didn't come with you to rescue the poor damsel? That's quite a shame. Though I suppose you make an adequate consolation prize..."

Arthur tentatively raised his hands, taking a step back towards Sadie and Abigail. "Where's the other woman you took, hm? You let them three go, you can have me. I won't put up no fuss."

Milton tilted his head slightly, motioning for the other man still behind him to flank Arthur. "Other woman? I only count two here, Mr. Morgan. And I won't be letting them go. I warned you. I offered you a deal. You should have taken it..."

Arthur sneered, not daring to make a move at the moment. He thought he could knock Milton's gun from his hand before he got the chance to fire, but with two other guns trained on them he didn't want to take the chance. "Okay. You wanna lie to me while you got me dead to rights, that's fine. But I'll tell you the truth. I'm a goddamn fool, Agent Milton..."

Milton tutted, nodding his head. "That's fairly obvious. Thankfully, not all of you boys have quite so many scruples when it comes to your fealty to old Dutch van der Linde. Micah Bell...we picked him up when you fellas came back from the Caribbean, and he's been a good boy ever since."

Arthur swallowed. The suspicion had been lingering in the back of his mind for some time, now. He distantly wondered if Micah had been spilling to them even before that. Blackwater, the bank job in St. Denis. Sure, they had kicked up a lot of noise over the course of the last year, but had more than just bad luck and bad circumstances been at work? Oh, Dutch. You brought this down on all of us. And where the hell is Wilhelmina?

"Yes." Milton grinned, stretching the pockmarks on his face rather grotesquely. "Micah Bell and some other small-time petty crook by the name of Everett Thorne. His name's been in our files for a few years now, but he came forward trying to make a deal with Bell and we figured two good little dogs bringing you bastards to heel might be better than one. Seems it paid off, at least partially."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Okay...okay. So you got me. Congratulations, Agent Milton..."

The sudden sound of a door slamming behind him jarred Milton out of his satisfied little monologue. He spun and let off a shot, hoping to catch whoever it was by surprise. In that time Arthur lowered his hand, still clutching his revolver. He yanked his sawed off shotgun from his side holster, shot the second man who'd looked over in surprise at the sound, and then shot Milton in the back.

Sadie elbowed the third agent in the face who'd had his gun trained on her, whipping her own revolver back out and shooting him before he could react to her attack. She immediately went back to working at getting Abigail untied. "Good shootin', Arthur!"

"Sure..." Arthur stepped over Milton with his guns trained towards the darkened back room of the shop.

"Don't shoot! It's me!" Sam's voice called out from the corner, and then he appeared meekly, hands half-raised. "I just thought...well I couldn't just stay out in the woods and not do nothin'."

Arthur sucked in a big breath, drawing his guns back. He assessed the boy for a split second before holstering his weapons and turning to make his way back to Sadie and Abigail. "Abigail, what the hell happened? Where's Wilhelmina?"

Abigail took the hand he offered her and stood, rubbing at her wrists and glancing around at the bodies strewn across the floor. She looked up at Arthur, brows drawing down in concern. "It was't just the Pinkertons that came for us, Arthur. Her brother. And that Joe. They was both there with 'em. They never brought here here. I don't...I don't know where they took her!"

Arthur clenched his jaw. He looked down, pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to think. "Okay. Okay. First things first, we get the hell out of here. No way the rest of 'em didn't hear all them gunshots."

The other two women nodded. Sam beckoned them toward the door in the back room he'd come in through. "We can go this way. It's just a ladder out there, goes straight down to the water. Don't know why, but we can swim a ways back to the horses."

Arthur glanced up. Only now did he notice that the boy was soaking wet. He heard yelling coming from outside and turned back toward Sadie and Abigail. "You ladies feel like goin' for a swim?"

"You're such a goddamn hypocritical little bitch!" Everett leaned down and backhanded Wilhelmina, hard. He'd gotten her propped up in a chair in the middle of the little shack, apparently so that he could berate her to death before he got the chance to kill her.

Her head swiveled to the side with the impact. She cried out, and then scoffed, tilting her head back to look up at him. "Arthur's going to kill you. He's gonna ride up here any minute and blow your goddamn brains out."

Everett chuckled, shifting on his feet. He pointed a finger at her accusingly. "That's why you're a goddamn hypocrite. You chase me around for years. Years! And then take up with another outlaw!? He ain't no better than me, and you still tried to kill me! Even if you didn't pull the trigger, you left me for dead. Spoutin' all that high and mighty bullshit about Loretta, about family? About blood!?"

Wilhelmina shook her head. One of her eyes had started to swell shut from so many impacts of his hands on her. But if she could piss him off, he'd keep talking. And talking was better than killing. She just had to hope that Arthur would ride in soon. That they hadn't been caught by the Pinkertons. That John had gone to get Abigail.

She'd come up with a few ways she could try to knock her brother out long enough to get herself untied, but they all seemed hopelessly unrealistic. "He's a better man than you will ever be. And you don't get to talk about Loretta. It's obvious now you ain't ever viewed us as family. You're just...goddamn crazy. You're crazier than Dutch."

Everett tsked and shook his head, leaning in towards her. "That ain't very nice, Mina." He pointed again, jabbed his finger roughly into her collarbone. "You're the goddamn crazy one. Always pushin' me. Always pretending like you weren't a goddamn little monster!"

"The only monsters are the ones we make, Everett. But you...you made yourself into what you are. You took momma dyin' and you turned it around on us. We were only babies! You always hated us, always wanted us dead...you just never had the balls to do it yourself."

Everett scoffed, straightened up and grabbed his knife from where he'd set it down on the table just beside them. "We'll see about that tonight, won't we Mina?"

She looked on, letting her head tip back against the chair. She kept working at the ropes that were on her wrists.

"I'm gonna kill you. And then I'm gonna meet up with Micah, and we're gonna turn old Dutch and your precious Arthur in if they ain't rushed up to Van Horn already, get a whole bunch of money...and set out for new horizons. How's that sound?" He grinned at her, swung the knife down and embedded it into the wooden seat of the chair just between her thighs.

She stuttered out a gasping breath, and then took her chance. She pushed her body forward with all the strength she had in her and headbutted her brother.

When they were finally well away from Van Horn, Arthur pulled up on the reins and had them stop just outside of Butcher Creek. He nudged Rei into a turn so that he could face the others, Sadie coming to a stop just beside him and then Sam and Abigail on Tulip following up just behind.

"Arthur, what are we-?"

Arthur shook his head, looking at Sadie sternly. "Way I see it, we got two pretty clear choices here. We either head down to Bluewater and check the shack, or we go back to Beaver Hollow and check there. I'm willin' to bet if the Pinkertons knew how to find Abigail and the rest down there, then they'll know about camp by now, too. So...we split up."

Sadie opened her mouth to argue, but she had to stop herself. He was right. Those were the two first best places to start looking for Whilhelmina, and they didn't have time to risk sticking together.

"You said Tilly and Jack went to Copperhead Landing. Where's John?" Abigail looked back and forth between the two of them.

Arthur glanced at Sadie, his jaw clenching. "I don't, uh...I think..."

Abigail knit her brows, her lip trembling. "What...?"

Arthur looked down at Rei's withers before facing her again. "He got killed or he got captured..."

"No...no..."

"I'm really sorry Abigail...I...I was on the train and I didn't see it..."

Tulip shifted uncomfortably beneath Abigail and Sam, nickering. The boy leaned down to pat her neck awkwardly while Abigail buried her face into her hands behind him. "No..."

Arthur winced, slipping down off the saddle to make his way over to them. He stopped just beside Abigail, put a hand on her knee, reached up with the other to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Listen. Jack is safe. Sam and Mrs. Adler, they're gonna get you back to him. And, listen to me, Abigail. John...I want you to know this...he loved you. He loved you and Jack, he did. He wasn't perfect, but he did."

Sadie swallowed, looking down and away from where she sat atop Bob just to the side. Abigail had been the first person in camp to reach out to her when she was in the depths of her grief back at Horseshoe Overlook. So soon after losing Jake, she'd been despondent and contemplating suicide. Abigail was the one who came to talk with her, check in on her, tell her that some day things would start to get better. It hurt to see the young woman facing the same despair she had.

Arthur reached up with a thumb, gently brushed some of Abigail's tears away. "Now you gotta go get that boy." He looked over at Sadie then. "You take them down there. And then you go check Bluewater for me, please. I gotta...it's better if I go back to camp."

"Arthur...take this." Abigail sniffled, reaching in under the collar of her blouse to pull out a small key. "I don't need it anymore."

Arthur furrowed his brows. "What's that?"

"There's a chest in them caves. In the back, to the left. Dutch's chest. With all our money. I know John told you I knew where it was."

He blinked, reached out to take the key from her.

Sam half-turned in the saddle, glanced back and forth between them. "Arthur...Mr. Morgan...you sure you wanna go back alone...?"

Arthur closed his fingers around the key and tucked it safely away into his pocket. "Yeah, kid. I'm sure. Now go on. All of you. Get outta here."

After he'd left them, Arthur rode north back to Beaver Hollow. He didn't know what he'd find there; Dutch dead, perhaps, Micah and his friends slipped away with the bounty money for turning him in. A hoard of Pinkertons picking over the remains of their camp, searching for clues. It made sense now, thinking back on the fact that Joe had not been with them for the train robbery. He'd been busy leading the Pinkertons to Bluewater Marsh instead.

Had Everett taken Wilhelmina and brought her here to regroup with Micah? Had he killed her already? Or was this a wild goose chase from start to finish? It was a big country, he could have taken his sister anywhere. Arthur's fists tightened around the reins. It felt hopeless. He'd tried to keep her safe. He thought he'd made the right decision. What a fool he'd been. What was it he'd said to John, all those months ago? Just do one thing or another. Don't be two people at once. It made his heart ache to think of all the pain his lingering loyalty to Dutch had caused her, and was it now the cause of her death as well? Fool. Goddamn blind fool. You didn't deserve her, you never did.

"Hurry! We ain't got long..."

Arthur caught sight of Micah sauntering through the middle of camp as he rode in, apparently taking it upon himself to direct the others into getting things packed up. Joe and Cleet were stuffing boxes full of the ammunition from his wagon, and that made Arthur grit his teeth.

"Oh, we just got plenty of time, Micah...plenty of time for you tell me where Miss Thorne got to."

Micah looked up, sneering at Arthur as he dismounted. "Morgan, you're back. Hooray..."

Arthur glanced to Dutch, standing back by his tent, before he eyed Micah again, approaching slowly. "What did you do with her, you goddamn rat?"

Micah hooked his thumbs into his belt, squared himself up in front of Arthur. "Call it a backup plan, cowpoke. Dutch and me, well, we thought it was best to get the little lady out of the picture. Her brother owed us a favor, and we came to a little agreement. Didn't we, boss?"

Dutch took a few steps forward as Bill looked up from where he'd been packing his own things away off on the other side of the cave entrance. He straightened up slowly, looking back and forth between the other men as he let his hand hover near the handle of his gun.

Dutch put his hands out toward Arthur in something of a placating gesture. "It needed to be done, son. I never got the chance to say it to you, but it...it came to my attention that she was workin' against us. Micah suspected we had a rat, for a long time. And then he saw her, talkin' to the Pinkertons..."

Arthur winced, looking down toward his boots for a second, unable to comprehend. "Dutch...?"

"It was for the best. We did you a favor, son. I knew you'd never believe it if I told you, the way she had you wrapped up around her finger as she did. I mean look at what happened when we brought her down to Colm's hangin'. The first thing she did as soon as she was out of our sight was run right for the law..."

Micah tutted and waved a hand in the air dismissively. "No use worryin' about it, cowpoke. Don't matter where she is, 'cause the little bitch is probably long dead by now. Her brother was awful eager to get his hands on her. And we needed her gone."

Arthur felt his heart bottoming out into his stomach. He'd feared it, but to hear it spoken so nonchalantly by the two of them felt like it drove a spike way down deep in his chest. To be betrayed like this hurt far worse than it had the other night when Dutch had walked away from him in that factory. To be betrayed for nothing, for a false accusation from Micah?

Arthur drew his gun to level it at the other man, sneered when Micah drew his own revolver a split second behind him. "Dutch, you goddamn fool. Hosea warned you. I warned you. Not that you'll give a damn or even believe me, but I just had a little run-in wit' Agent Milton. We saved Abigail, not that you care too much about that, either. And before I shot him, he told me...Micah's the one that's been talkin'..."

Micah took a step closer. "That's a goddamn lie."

Dutch knit his brows, glancing back and forth as Joe and Cleet both drew their guns from their holsters, taking positions on either side of Micah.

"You let this goddamn snake whisper in your ear so long...you let him take the only good thing I had in years, Dutch...we was..." Arthur's mouth quirked. The gun trembled slightly in his hand. Why was he even still bothering trying to explain? "We was gonna get outta this. I was gonna go straight. And you let him take that. You let him take that from me."

Micah glanced quickly over at Dutch, keeping his gun trained on Arthur all the while. "Dutch, be practical now. You gonna believe that? You gonna believe what a Pinkerton said? You heard him, he just said he was gonna run with her. She changed him, Dutch. I bet they was both talkin' to the Pinkertons about turnin' all of us in!"

Arthur drew back the hammer on his revolver. "Stop lyin' for once in your miserable goddamn life! He told me! Didn't have no reason to lie, he thought he had me cornered! It was you, all along...you and Everett and these two clowns." He waved his revolver vaguely towards the two men that stood beside Micah. "You all deserve each other. Goddamn rats!"

"Dutch!"

They all glanced over to see John hobbling towards them from the trail, dirty and clutching his bloody shoulder with one hand.

"John!?" Bill crowed in surprise from behind them.

"You left me! You left me to die!"

Dutch's eyes widened minutely. He took a tentative step forward. "My boy...I didn't have a choice...John, I didn't-"

"You...left me!" John stopped a few feet from Arthur, spitting at Dutch with all the venom of a once beloved son now spurned.

Arthur glanced over at John, gave him the tiniest of nods. A small silver lining was still one he'd take. At least he could still try to make sure the Marstons got out of all this. After that, he wasn't quite sure. The brief thought of putting his revolver to his own head passed through his mind. "All of you! You pick your side now, 'cause this is over."