It was nearly noon by the time the camp stirred to life. They hadn't partied that hard in God knew how long, and from every corner there were sounds of people complaining of hangovers as they stumbled around. Even Pearson hadn't been up to making breakfast, not that anyone would be able to stomach it at this point besides little Jack and Strauss, the death of the party. It made Arthur glad he'd had the sense to stop at two bottles. Besides, if he hadn't, he might have already forgotten the O'Driscoll's confession. That needed to be straightened out, so he put on his hat and sauntered over to the tree stump where he'd left him earlier that morning.

"Mornin' O'Driscoll. Sleep well?"

"Ha ha, real funny mister," Kieran moaned. He had dark circles under his eyes, and Arthur supposed he hadn't gotten much sleep between Karen and Sean's coupling and his own tormented thoughts.

"We've got business to discuss. You were rather…forthcoming last night. Somethin' about Six Point Cabin." Arthur pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and began blowing smoke in the prisoner's direction.

Kieran grimaced, choking back a cough. "That's right, mister. The day you, er, picked me up, Colm had rode off for this place just north o' Valentine. He's got a camp there. Lots o' men."

Arthur tapped the ashes from the end of his cigarette. "Now, that may or may not be true. What I really wanna know is why you're tellin' me this now, outta the blue. It's damn suspicious. I'll be real honest, O'Driscoll, you ain't exactly lookin' like you're hurtin' too badly…"

"Tell that to my wrists. And my sunburn. And my stomach."

"All annoyances, really. Not the kinda things that makes a man talk so readily. Usually you've gotta start loppin' off body parts." Arthur flashed a particularly sinister look that made the boy shudder. "So, why, boy? Why should I believe this ain't a trap? The first confessions are always lies, that's what I've learned."

Kieran couldn't believe his ears. He'd finally given them what they wanted, and still it wasn't good enough! "Why should I hold out when I don't even like Colm O'Driscoll? I keep tellin' ya, mister, I hate 'im! Is that so hard to believe? You know what he's like, at least a little!"

"Then you woulda told me right away when I asked, not a week later."

Kieran ducked his head and shifted uncomfortably. "I was scared…"

"No shit. I thought you were gonna piss yourself."

His face burned in embarrassment, but he persisted. "I've had enough time to think it through. You fellers seem a lot more decent than he is. I wanna help ya bring 'im down."

Arthur stared for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You squealed because you wanted to help the guys that captured you? That's gotta be the most ridiculous excuse I've ever heard!" He braced himself on the tree trunk, leaning dangerously close to Kieran as he continued to laugh, his breath reeking of cigarette smoke and stale whiskey. "And yet somehow it suits you, boy. All right, I'll play along. But if it turns out you're lyin', you'll see just how 'decent' of folk we really are. You're gonna stay here while I figure out who ain't still hungover, and then we're gonna go for a ride."

As he turned to leave, Kieran interjected worriedly. "M-Mister? If I'm gonna go with ya, could I maybe…get somethin' to eat first? Ya know, so my stomach don't alert nobody?"

"And so maybe he'll be able to stand on his own two feet?" a female voice chimed in. They both glanced over to find Mary-Beth approaching with a bowl of oatmeal and a flask.

"Ah, Mary-Beth. You've got some uncanny timin'…" Arthur frowned. "I've been meanin' to ask the group, but I think I've got a bit o' an idea. You know anythin' about why this O'Driscoll hasn't shriveled up yet? It has been…" He trailed off as he began to count on his fingers. "Over six days now."

Mary-Beth looked him dead in the eye in a way few in the gang would dare to do. "You said no food, sir. I didn't feed him."

Leave it to Mary-Beth to play the loop-holes. He should have known. "Ya know, in different circumstances, that woulda only prolonged his sufferin'," he shot back, clearly vexed.

She just shrugged and brushed by him, setting the bowl down on the ground while she unscrewed the flask. "He'll be ready to go by the time you are, Arthur."

He gave a low growl. "See to it he is. We'll talk about this later."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

His candidate pool for this mission was severely dwindled. Charles had kept to himself the night prior, and so his head was on straight. This didn't surprise Arthur at all. Of the remaining candidates, it was shocking to find John the most put together. Maybe Abigail had been harassing him not to go overboard last night. He wasn't real keen on running a mission with that idiot, but it would have to do.

He filled them in on his plan to ambush the enemy camp, making sure to put the O'Driscoll on the back of John's horse (make that self-centered brat deal with him) so he could guide them in the right direction. Not much else they could strategize at this point until they saw the layout, and if he were being honest, that made him nervous. The boy was a seemingly innocent fool, but he was also quick to turn coat against his former gang. Perhaps he was genuinely out to get revenge for poor treatment; Arthur had seen first-hand during their last raid how he'd been slapped around. Then again, perhaps as soon as he was in danger from the O'Driscolls, he'd turn right around and screw them over. One thing Arthur knew for sure was that he did not have one brave bone in his body. If push came to shove, he'd crumble.

When they returned for him, Mary-Beth was nowhere to be seen, but Kieran was looking at least a bit more comfortable. Well, until he saw that Arthur had only brought two others with him. "That's all?" His eyebrows shot up.

"This is more than enough for a bunch o' lousy O'Driscolls," John snarled, pulling out his hunting knife. He began sawing through the ropes restraining Kieran to the tree stump.

"Does this mean…am I gettin' a gun too?"

"Aww hell no! You think we'd trust you with that?" The ropes fell loose, and Kieran's first reaction was to massage his chaffed wrists, wincing. "You're gonna ride with me, tell me where to go, then shut yer damn mouth lest we shut it for ya. Just 'cause you talked don't mean you're in the clear with us, you understand O'Driscoll?"

"I ain't an O'Driscoll!" Kieran frowned, but his shoulders still sank at John's harsh words.

Suddenly, Arthur had a death-grip on his shoulder. A warning. "Well you sure as shit were, and that ain't somethin' we just forgive and forget. Now, get on the horse and start makin' yerself useful."

So began the long ride to Six Point Cabin. It was as if Kieran had all sorts of pent-up energy, resulting in nearly constant chatter along the way. That, or maybe he was just babbling nervously. Or, was he trying to get it out of his system before he was forced to be silent? Every time Arthur was about to tell him to shut up, he'd say something that was actually useful for navigating, and he'd hold off on his comment. Between that, his powerful smell, and John's excuses for not being more productive since his gunshot wound, it felt like the ride went on forever as they climbed the hills.

Once they were within range, everyone stopped their horses and tethered them to the trees. All four crouched down and slinked up to the edge of the ridge so they could get their bearings. "All right, O'Driscoll, where's Colm gonna be?"

Kieran pointed to a cabin on the other side of the camp. A large number of gang members were doing chores or otherwise lounging about, standing between them and their goal. Of course. "He'll be holed up in that cabin over there. Probably passed out booze blind, likely as not."

His explanation was interrupted as a trio of gang members walked in front of them, completely unaware of their presence as they argued about breaking some bad news to Colm. John's first reaction was to clap a hand over Kieran's mouth and press a gun to his temple. The boy went wide-eyed in panic, but to his credit he did not make a sound. He just sort of clenched and unclenched his hands anxiously in response to his predicament.

"How do we do this, Arthur?" Charles asked, all business.

"These three go down with a silent kill. Got yer knives?"

"Yeah."

"'Kay. You and I will take out these bastards, then John, you leave Mr. Duffy here and join us for the gunfight. If he runs," Arthur shrugged, "he runs. As long as none of our horses go missin', I don't really care either way. He flashed Kieran a predatory look, potent enough to have him shrinking back into John's grasp. "If any horses are missin', we will be hunting him down with guns instead of lassos this time. Now let's go before we miss our chance."

They made it too easy; one dawdled behind to relieve himself and got shot in the head with Arthur's bow. The remaining two had throwing knives lodged into their necks as they waited for their ill-fated companion. A final scout on the edge of camp got his throat slit. Finally, the trio opened fire. There were a lot of them, but they were caught unprepared much like the time in the Grizzlies. That, and Colm always went for quantity over quality, Arthur observed with a smirk as another series of bullets missed him completely.

The camp was cleared out in no time, but one thing still remained. "John, Charles, you two start looting the bodies. I'll check out the cabin."

"Are you sure we shouldn't come with you?" Charles questioned worriedly.

"Naw. They ain't exactly gonna be hidin' an army in there. Just need one bullet between Colm O'Driscoll's eyes."

True, there wasn't an army inside the cabin, but there was one observant gunman, and that was enough to nearly do him in. As he reached for the doorknob, the door flew open and knocked him to the ground, his gun skidding away from the force of his fall. Before he could process the barrel of the gun pointed at his chest, a different gun fired from somewhere behind him. The enemy spasmed and fell. Blood spewed from a fatal chest wound. When Arthur craned his neck to find the source, he was stunned to find his savior was neither Charles nor John.

"I-I know you said no guns," Kieran apologized, shaking a little as he steadied a small pistol with two hands instead of one, "but I saw that fella run inside durin' the shoot-out, and I knew you was goin' in there, so I grabbed it off one o' them fellas you knifed, and…"

Arthur jumped to his feet, grabbed his gun, and burst into the cabin, completely ignoring Kieran's explanation. He pointed it right and left as he searched the small room, but there was no one else inside. Colm was still out there. The feud would continue. They'd just poured oil on a fire they'd already started back in the mountains. All in all, this was a complete waste of time. Realizing this, Arthur stormed out in a rage. "He ain't here! You set us up, O'Driscoll!" He turned his gun on the boy, even though he had obediently dropped the weapon as soon as the coast was clear.

"N-No, that ain't it! I didn't know he'd left!" Kieran protested passionately. He'd been afraid this would be the case, that his only bit of helpful information wouldn't even be helpful at all. Now he had nothing in his defense except… "Wait! If it was a set-up, why would I have saved you?" Realizing this, he grinned triumphantly.

"He's not wrong," Charles agreed, startling Arthur with his presence due to his intense focus on Kieran. Both he and John had come running as soon as they had heard the gunshots.

It was absurd. How could it be that an O'Driscoll, especially one so meek and pathetic, had saved his life? The boy couldn't even hold a gun properly! It royally pissed him off that he had acted so recklessly that this was even the case. "Fine. Then git."

"What?!"

"You heard me, I'm lettin' ya run." For the love of God, just get this obnoxious little shit far, far away from him before he lost it.

"You can't!" Ah, there was that familiar fear creeping into his rapidly rising pitch. "After what I've done? Colm'll kill me!" He shook his head vigorously. "Take me in. Make me a Van der Linde!"

"Accept a treacherous snake into our camp? Why the hell would I do that?"

"Is it because I rode with O'Driscoll?"

If he were being honest, that part ate at him to the core. Dutch would be rolling in his grave if he knew they'd taken in one of their sworn enemies. There was more to it, though. "Because you sold out your gang at the first sign of danger! Van der Lindes have loyalty."

"How many times do I hafta tell ya, they ain't my gang! Colm pointed a gun to me and told me it was either ride with them or die. Ya can't betray people you were never loyal to in the first place!" Finding Arthur unmoved, Kieran turned his attention to John and Charles. "Come on, ya wanted me to talk, and I did, but now that makes me a bad person? You turn me loose and it's a death sentence!"

"What are ya good for?" John scratched his chin.

"Horses," he answered quickly. "I've always been good with horses. Feed 'em, groom 'em, clean up after 'em. Hell, I've even done some work trainin' 'em. But I'll do anythin' you ask me to, I will!"

"Arthur." Charles voice was as even as ever. "Hasn't he earned a chance? Besides, he already knows our location. If that gets into the wrong hands…"

Damn Charles and his logic. He was getting the distinct feeling he was fighting a losing battle, and his own volatile emotions were the only reason he was fighting at all. He glowered at the boy, who looked so on edge it seemed he might just forget to breathe. Micah's words about having too many people to babysit played back in his mind, but he hated Micah's guts. At least this one seemed willing to work, and despite all his many, many faults, Arthur didn't actually doubt he would. The boy was the type to bend over backwards to please. They could use that. "Fine," he dismissed with a wave, pretending he had any semblance of control over the situation. "You head back with John and Charles."

A huge grin split his face. "Thank you, mister! I'll work harder than anybody, I swear! You won't regret this!"

"Make sure I don't…"

"No more callin' me an O'Driscoll?" he added hopefully.

"Don't press yer luck, O'Driscoll. I have a VERY long memory."

"What will you be up to while we ride back, Arthur?" John demanded while Kieran pouted in the background.

"Lookin' around. Makin' sure everything's cleared out."

"You gonna get the money in the chimney?"

All three turned to stare at their newest member. "The what now?"

"The money Colm always hides in the chimney, lots of it!" When they continued to give blank looks, he added "Here, I can go get it." He looked so proud of himself, but before he could dart into the cabin in his excitement, Arthur grabbed him by the collar.

"I'll take care of it. You just clear out."

He seemed a bit put out, but didn't dare argue. He'd already gotten what he wanted today, and had no intention of pushing too far. He joined the other two as they backtracked to the horses, leaving Arthur to stew about current events.

When he pulled hundreds of dollars from the chimney, his anger only worsened. Of course it wasn't the money, which the gang desperately needed since the Blackwater failure. That was a complete blessing which would allow them to get much-needed supplies. It was the knowledge that without Kieran Duffy, the world's most incompetent outlaw, they'd all still be broke.