Okay, I had fully intended to post this chapter last night on the heels of the previous chapter, but I passed out at 3 AM before I could hit submit. Super excited about this one! As always, review review review! And if anyone out there wants to beta read for me, I'd be eternally grateful.

It was a relatively short ride to the dried creek bed in New Hanover where they were to meet before attacking the stagecoach. Riding with the men of the gang gave Arthur a strong sense of nostalgia-it hadn't been since the failure at Blackwater that so many of them had ridden out together. To his left was Lenny, seeming like he was trying his best to look grim, though barely hiding his gleeful smile. Lenny was relatively new with the gang and easily the youngest out of the men, and definitely eager to prove himself.

To his right, Charles really did look grim. Arthur had hoped to get a chance to talk to him in private before riding out, but the opportunity hadn't come up. Lately, the half black/half native hunter had taken on the role of Arthur's moral compass, validating him when he felt like the camp, more specifically Dutch, had gone mad. He supposed that compared to Dutch's most recent ideas, this seemed relatively tame.

The thundering of horse hooves seemed to rattle the entire starlit landscape as all nine men rode in a line down the slope of the creekbed. "Up there!" Dutch called back, gesturing ahead toward a dim lantern light beside a small covered wagon. They all came to a halt, dismounting behind the wagon. "All of you, with me," Dutch muttered just loud enough for the rest of them to hear. "Let's startle him a bit, make sure he's still bein' honest with us."

Arthur nodded and moved up to walk beside Dutch. "I hope you know what you're doin'," he said softly as they moved around the side of the wagon.

"Always the doubter, son."

On the other side of the wagon, a pudgy man was leaning casually against the wheel, arms folded. "You made it." He blinked in surprise as more came around the corner of the wagon. "And you brought some extras."

When Dutch spoke, it was with his 'stage voice': a very enthusiastic, well-spoken voice. He seemed to be using that much more frequently lately. "Caius! Good to see you again. I hope you don't mind, but it just didn't seem prudent to leave out most of my friends here. They've been longing to stretch their legs lately."

The man glanced up at the driver's seat of the wagon, as though seeking approval. Arthur couldn't see who was sitting up there from his angle, but whoever it was seemed to be amenable to the larger group size because Caius nodded. "No problem there. I suppose introductions are in order?"

"Yes. Gentleman, this is Caius Washbourne," Dutch said with a grand gesture toward the stranger. The man was slightly shorter than Dutch and rather paunchy, small mud-colored eyes framed by a ruddy red face. He looked rather sleazy despite his fine burgundy three-piece suit. Arthur nodded politely. "And this-" Dutch continued, holding a hand up to help the figure out of the driver's seat of the wagon- "is his lovely partner, Edaline."

The young woman stepped daintily out of the wagon and next to Dutch. "Pleasure making y-" she froze when she made eye contact with Arthur, who also froze.

"You!" Arthur growled furiously. "Dutch, it's a setup!"

Immediately the sounds of guns clicking filled the air as Dutch, Hosea, Bill, Javier, Sean, Lenny, Charles, and Micah drew their weapons and pointed it at the bewildered pair. Arthur too drew his cattleman's revolver but kept it at his side. "I see you're already acquainted with one of my associates," Dutch said coldly. "Arthur?"

Arthur moved forward and pointed at the girl, whose face had gone very white. "This was the one that shook up the O'Driscoll boys a couple weeks back. Suppose she thought she could pull a fast one on us."

Washbourne rounded on the woman. "You bitch! You didn't tell me you knew this bunch of idiots!"

"I-I didn't!" she stuttered, violet eyes flicking from the guns pointed at her to her angry associate. "I had no idea he was part of the Van der Linde's, I swear!"

The man lunged for her, seizing her around the throat before suddenly dropping like a stone with a gasp of pain. Blood was blossoming through his suit around his abdomen. Clutched in the girl's hand was a thin dagger, stained red. Caius spluttered a moment, then went limp. Dead.

There was a moment of silence before Bill erupted in rage. "Well, I guess that means we only have to kill one of you now. Dutch?"

For some bizarre reason, Arthur felt a surge of panic. They were going to kill her? Despite feeling a bit irrationally betrayed by this girl that he had only met once, he didn't want to see her harmed.

"Not so fast there, cowpoke," Micah drawled. "She got some of our money stashed. Isn't that right, little lady?" He advanced on the girl, but she brandished her knife threateningly.

"Don't come any closer," she snapped.

Arthur glared at Micah. "You fools gave a pair of con artists our money?" he snarled incredulously.

"How was we supposed to know you were buds with them?" Micah deflected, turning to face Arthur.

"What money did you give them?" Javier demanded furiously. "While the rest of the camp is starving, you somehow found money to give away?"

"Yeah, that's messed up, Dutch," said Lenny, scowling.

Dutch held his hands up. "I had a plan! It was my mistake to trust them, but-"

"It was just six hundred dollars," said Micah. "It was su-"

Dutch whipped toward him. "You took six hundred dollars? I told you to take one hundred!"

The men began to overlap each other, arguing furiously about the lost money. Arthur felt ready to crack Dutch and Micah's skulls together. It wasn't like Dutch to be so stupid! But with that slimy weasel Micah whispering in his ear, he couldn't be sure what Dutch was capable of anymore.

"Oh no you don't, senorita!" In the midst of the arguing, the girl had tried to slip away toward the horses. Javier had caught her and was wrestling her to the ground. He wrenched the knife out of her hand and pinned her wrists down. She struggled in vain for a moment before going stiff, glaring daggers at him.

Dutch approached them slowly and crouched over the girl, brushing an errant strand of dark hair off her face so she could look him in the eye. "Well, missy, it looks like you have some money of ours. I will be needing that back. Up on your feet."

Arther felt uneasy as he watched Javier drag the girl upright and push her forward. The gang stood in a tight circle around her. She drew herself up to her full, but not overly impressive height and scowled. The effect would have been fiersome had she not been visibly trembling. Dutch advanced toward her. "Where is our money?"

The girl said nothing.

Dutch took another step forward and grabbed the back of her hair, bringing her face inches from his. A barely audible whimper escaped her lips. "I said, where is our money?"

She remained silent.

"I bet she has it on her," said Micah, a disgusting smile twisting his features. "I'll search her."

"A fine idea, Mr. Bell." Dutch thrust the girl to Micah.

Arthur intercepted, grabbing her arm and pulling her against him. She felt limp in his grasp, like she was accepting her fate. He shot Micah a dirty look before turning to Dutch. "Do you really think she has six hundred dollars shoved up her sleeves? Come one, Dutch! She has to have it stashed somewhere."

Sean nodded. "That makes more sense to me. A con artist wouldn't bring the money she'd already stolen to meet up with her mark, now would she?"

Lenny and Javier murmured their agreement. Even Bill was nodding. Dutch regarded Arthur for a moment before nodding as well. "Okay, we'll do it your way." He whistled; the Count trotted up to him obediently. He swung himself up into the saddle. "Bring her back to camp. We broke the Duffy boy. I imagine we could do the same to her. Let's ride!"

Micah approached Arthur. "I have more room on my horse, cowpoke. I'll take her."

He tried to pull the girl away from him, but Arthur tightened his grip. "I'll manage," he said firmly. "Would hate for you to get lost with her along the way."

Micah held his hands up and backed away toward his horse. "Ain't nothing wrong with a little fun, cowpoke."

"Goddamn worm," Arthur snarled quietly before turning the girl to face him. She wouldn't meet his eyes, focusing on something on the ground. "Look at me, Miss." No reaction. "Look at me," he repeated, tilting her chin up so that her eyes met his. That was a mistake. Her unique violet eyes were captivating and made him fumble his words for a moment. "Do as I say and you'll be just fine. The folks I run with, they're good people. They won't hurt you."

"Including the 'goddamn worm' that your leader was about to let grope me?" the girl spat angrily, jerking her chin out of his grasp.

Arthur sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "He ain't normally like that. We've got a lot of mouths to feed, and with that fool giving away all our money, we might not be able to do that. The best thing for you to do is to let me take you back to camp and tell Dutch where the money is. Understand me?"

The girl nodded. Her eyes blazed with a sudden steely resolve that made Arthur slightly uneasy. He shook it off and whistled for Sidewinder. Once the spotted Appaloosa had trotted up, he lifted the girl on to the front of the saddle and went to hop up behind her. Before he was able to get his arm around her, the girl dove off the side of the horse, hitting the ground hard and running directly at Sean, who was just about to mount his horse. She body-slammed into the Irishman, sending him sprawling. In a split second, she was racing along the dried creek bed astride Ennis. Arthur noticed that what he thought was her skirts was actually split into cleverly disguised pants for a quick getaway.

"You bitch!" Sean hollered after her, running a few steps in a feeble attempt at a chase.

"I got her," Arthur said to him, taking off after her.

Despite the lead, Sidewinder easily caught up to Ennis. Arthur took out his gun and fired a warning shot in the air as he pulled alongside the girl. She flinched but didn't slow down. "Don't make me shoot that Irish bastard's horse!" Arthur shouted at her. "This don't have to get ugly!"

The girl tried to veer away from him, but he easily remained beside her. "Leave me alone!" she shouted back. "I don't have your money!"

Arthur had had enough. He maneuvered himself into a crouching position on Sidewinder's saddle. The dutiful horse shifted its weight to help him keep his balance. With one flying leap he tackled the girl off of both hit the grassy ground with a dull thud, knocking the wind out of Arthur.

He lay still for a moment, struggling to take in a breath. When he was finally able to fill his lungs, he rose to his knees and crawled over to the girl, who was also struggling to breathe. "Well that was a nice little stunt you just pulled."

"I don't...have...your money...mister," she wheezed, pulling herself up to a sitting position.

"Well, where is it then?"

The girl pulled her knees up to her chin, tears welling up in her eyes. "I spent it."

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair. "You did what?"

"I spent it!" She began to sob and buried her face into her knees.

Arthur didn't know whether to laugh or to scream. He chose to laugh, sprawling flat on his back into the grass. "You spent six hundred dollars in a day? Hell, what did you buy? An Arabian? A house? A high-class man of the night? At least tell me it was somethin exciting!" The girl didn't speak, tears flowing down her cheeks. Arthur almost pitied her. "Look, miss. You know I can't just let you go. We need our money back."

She looked up at him desperately. "I don't know what to tell you then. You can keep the wagon and the horses pulling it. There's thirty dollars in the lockbox under the driver's seat, as well as papers so you can fetch a good price for the horses."

"Now that ain't goin to total up to six hundred dollars, now will it?" said Arthur in frustration. He didn't want to imagine what Dutch was going to do with her if she truly no longer had the money, not to mention the rest of the gang.

She wiped the tears off her face and sighed. "No, it won't. Look, I'm truly sorry. I run these scams on bad people. That's what I've always done. The O'Driscolls, Laramie Brothers, Del Lobos, Lemoyne Raiders, they all get dumber than rocks when it comes to an easy money opportunity. I had no clue you were a part of...a part of them."

That stung. Arthur had always proudly considered himself a part of the 'good bad guys', robbing the rich and powerful to humble them, and giving to the poor. Like that one man in the books Hosea taught him how to read with, Robin Hood. However, the actions taken by Dutch and Micah at Blackwater lately had him second-guessing the true motivations of the Van der Linde gang.

Arthur sat back up and stared at the girl intently. "Edaline, was it?"

The girl sniffled. "That's a fake name."

"What is it then?"

She hesitated. "Marlowe. Marlowe Reid."

"Is that your real name?"

"Yes, sir."

He shifted uneasily. "Miss Reid, I can't just let you go. Dutch would have my head, and he and the others would hunt you down anyway. Your best bet would be to come with me to our camp and tell Dutch where you spent the money so we can maybe get it back."

"You can't retrieve that money!" Marlowe stressed. "Please. I'll work it off, or something."

"Who the hell did you give that money to?"

Marlowe looked away. "A vile man. By the name of Walter Smythe. I have to pay him a thousand dollars every four months, and I am behind. I sent off that money as soon as I got it hoping to stop him from letting loose the dogs on me.

"You indebted to this...vile man?"

Marlowe regarded him for a long moment, like she was trying to decide whether or not to trust him. Finally she spoke, a little uneasily. "In a way."

From the dried creekbed across the grassy field, Arthur could hear the voices of his gang approaching. He turned back to Marlowe hastily. "In what way?"

"I can't say," she said flatly.

"Damn it girl, I'm trying to help you!"

"I don't need your help!" Marlowe snapped venomously.

Dutch, Javier, and Micah approached. Sean slid off the back of Javier's horse and made his way over to Ennis, who was grazing nearby. "There you are! That mean girl better not have hurt you."

"Save your romantic overtures to your horse for when you're alone," Micah said with an eyeroll. "Seems like you can't keep up with a little girl, Morgan. Perhaps you better let me take care of her."

Arthur shot him the dirtiest look he can muster. "I can manage. Miss Reid is going to behave. Aren't you?" He made sure his tone left no room to argue. Marlowe said nothing.

"Quiet one, ain't she?" Sean observed.

Javier chuckled. "Everyone is quiet when compared to the likes of you, MacGuire."

Sean put a dramatic hand over his heart. "Sticks and stones, you greaser."

"You better tie her up, at least," Micah drawled. He was still looking at Marlowe like a hungry coyote at a cornered rabbit.

"That's not necessary," Marlowe said quickly. "I won't fight."

Arthur sighed and took his rope off of his belt. Marlowe looked at him pleadingly. "Please sir, I promise I won't run again."

He hesitated. Dutch sighed grandly. "I'm afraid I don't trust you, miss. Arthur?"

Feeling like the worst person in the world, Arthur dragged Marlowe onto her feet and bound her hands in front of her. He kept the bonds loose, but not enough to where she could free herself. He could feel Marlowe trembling like a leaf in the wind and felt sympathetic toward her, vowing to talk to Dutch as soon as they returned to camp.

He lifted her once more onto Sidewinder and helped her get her leg over the other side before hopping up behind her. With his arms around her, she should be able to stay on the horse even with her hands bound.

Dutch whipped the Count in a northern direction. "Let's ride

Thanks for reading! Sneak peek into the next chapter: you'll learn a little more about Marlowe's grim past...