Arthur kept low whilst he fiddled with the lockbox, attempting to push every pin as quickly as possible. Not that the warbling from the side of the stagecoach helped. He didn't dislike opera, but whatever god awful sound that woman was making was something else.

Keep her singing Josiah, he thought as the last pin clicked into place with a clink, as the springs gently opened the lid. Picking through the contents, there was a decent haul, a few hundred at least, as Arthur unceremoniously shoved the goods into his satchel. He crept away as quietly as he had arrived, not once alerting the dumb witted drivers.

As he crept off, he heard Josiah exclaim some nonsense in Italian, hopefully putting an end to the noise. He crept behind a fallen log, its bark bleached from lying out in the sun, as he heard the exchange continue - although he was too far away to make out the words. Josiah, in his expected fashion, flourished his hands as he helped the woman back into the coach, closing the door behind her.

After the stagecoach has drawn off down the road, Arthur meandered towards Trelawney.

'Nicely done, Arthur! A little finesse for once,' the Englishman chimed, grinning broadly.

'It was easy,' Arthur shrugged, digging into the satchel to retrieve the loot, 'you did all the work,' he said, meaning it, for he could still hear the ringing of the woman's voice in his ears.

'Team work, my dear boy. Team work!'

The acting never really does end with this fool, Arthur thought to himself, handing over half of the stash. It wasn't much, only about two, maybe two fifty dollars — not enough to live on forever, certainly not enough to retire and move to Tahiti. But it would keep him going until they found another job or met someone who needed his services again, which Arthur doubted would take very long.

'It seems that after today's little excursion,' Josiah continued, 'you have become much more acquainted with the upper class of society.' He grinned, giving Arthur a playful tap on the shoulder.

Arthur just grunted. It wasn't funny, but he never really found Trelawney all that amusing.

'I've had enough of that for one day,' Arthur commented and he whistled for his horse, who came trotting out of the treeline.

Josiah smiled indulgently before taking up his reins. The Englishman then mounted his own steed, toying with the side of his moustache.

'Hmm, that is a shame indeed,' he commented, as he looked around him, turning back towards Arthur, looking troubled yet thoughtful.

Arthur stared at the man. He had known Josiah for long enough now to know he was unpredictable. Not in the same way as the others, but enough so Arthur wouldn't bet on anything he was about to say.

Montague nuzzled at his arm, no doubt after another oatcake, as the horse nipped lightly at his shirt.

'You see, I have a bit of a personal predicament,' Josiah continued, his eyes focusing somewhere far off into the distance. His tone became less jovial as he spoke again. 'You may have noticed that the other day at camp, I was somewhat... erratic.'

Arthur snorted. Erratic was always a mild word he used to describe Trelawney.

'But what happened, you ask? I shall tell you, dear boy,' Josiah reached for his horse's reins, pulling him to the grass verge, away from the dirt track. 'You see, the attempted robbery on the estate in Scarlett Meadows is in actual fact an estate that belongs to my dear, sweet niece.'

The words hung in the air. What he was on about, Arthur couldn't say. He didn't even know the man had a niece.

'What?' Arthur asked incredulously. After all these years of playing along with Josiah's schemes, he knew better than to question the crazy man, but he didn't like where this was going.

'Thankfully, it was all dealt with rather swiftly, but you see, the poor thing is understandably very shaken,' Josiah said, 'and I am, too, Arthur. I sincerely am. She is very precious to me.'

'Where is this going, Josiah?' Athur said curtly, growing impatient with the man's usual doddering. Arthur, too, mounted, placing his foot in the stirrup and throwing his leg over the horse with ease.

'Amelia needs protection—'

'And she ain't got nobody,' Arthur finished.

Trelawney nodded slowly, apparently pleased by the answer.

'Yes, well, we are quite close, as you can imagine,' he said, his face lighting up.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, not liking a single word that had come out of Josiah's foolish mouth. Frowning, the outlaw wondered why he should give a damn, but Josiah was a part of their outfit, and loyalty meant something.

'You brought this up with Dutch?' Arthur asked, not wanting to start taking jobs this big. 'We've got enough going on, Josiah.'

'I am well aware, my friend. However, this is good money, money that will come from the business, of course. It's legitimate and relatively easy cash for you all.'

Arthur sighed, unclipping his satchel and rummaged around until he found an oatcake. Leaning forwards, he fed it to Montague, who took it gladly whilst Arthur patted his neck idly.

'Look, I ain't in the business of keeping things from Dutch. You speak with him, I do what I'm told. You know how this works.' Arthur was growing more and more impatient as he watched Josiah, who held a serious expression on his face, for once.

'Of course! I can also assure you that I have no interest in being devious with you,' Josiah said, 'but I want you to be directly involved, Arthur. You'll be compensated well, but I want it to be someone I trust.'

'Right,' Arthur scoffed, 'And not someone like Micah, I assume?'

Josiah turned to look at him and waggled his finger.

'No, no, not Micah. That's not what I mean. And besides, he would kill anyone in his way. This job requires stealth, cunning, and above all, discretion. Someone who knows the ropes, someone with experience.'

Arthur snorted, finding a cigarette from his pocket as he put it between his lips.

'I ain't sure what stories you been reading, Trelawney,' Arthur said, lighting up his smoke, 'But protecting rich girls ain't in my accomplishments. Besides, why don't you just get the law involved?'

Blowing out the smoke, Arthur lent forward onto the saddle horn, eyeing Josiah from underneath the brim of his hat. He was no moron when it came to reading between the lines, but why Josiah was coming to him with this at all, he hadn't quite worked out. But if his niece had a legitimate operation, he didn't see any good reason to get caught up in this. Whatever this was, anyway.

Josiah's horse gave a few taps of annoyance as it kicked at the dirt.

'Oh, Arthur, you have seen the kind of people we deal with, the kinds of men that lurk in those woods,' Josiah replied, pointing to the trees behind then, 'the Sheriff is a drunk and quite frankly, knowing my niece if I don't get the help in she will be forced to turn to... other avenues.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Arthur grunted as he fiddled with his cigarette.

'She's a strong-minded woman. I wouldn't want her hand to be forced into a position where she feels the need to involve a certain detective agency.'

Arthur eyed the man. He wasn't wrong by that account. The further away he and all the others were away from the Pinkertons, the better. They'd been lucky thus far, but he doubted that luck would hold forever. Yet still, he didn't see how this would come back to the gang, even if they did get involved.

He shrugged as his eyes narrowed into the distance, trying to work out the plan. All he knew was he didn't like this one bit, and when Arthur's gut had something to say, it was usually right.

'Now why would the Pinkertons come sniffing around us, because your rich niece got robbed or whatever,' Arthur said, growing quite exhausted by the whole conversation.

'My name is on quite a few of the business agreements, dear boy,' Josiah said. 'I do not know that they will, but I feel it's best to not take any chances.'

Arthur gave a heavy sigh, finished the last of his smoke as he flicked the end into the dirt track.

'So, you're asking me to play bodyguard,' Arthur laughed to himself, 'for some rich girl?'

'Now you're catching on!' Josiah squawked as he took up his reins.

'Look, I'll speak with Dutch, but that's all I'm promising,' Arthur commented as he hoisted himself into his saddle.

Josiah nods appreciatively, though not without a sly chuckle.

'I expect nothing less, Arthur Morgan. I will be back at camp in a week's time.'

As Josiah turned his horse onto wherever he was off to next as Arthur shook his head. That goddamn slippery bastard.

When Arthur arrived back at camp, it was surprisingly sparse and quiet. Quite an unusual scene for what he had been accustomed to. No squabbling from Karen and Ms Grimshaw, no Micah making a nuisance of himself.

The only sound was the creak of leather as he swung his leg over the horse's back. He tied the reins of Montague to one of the pegs near the corral, giving the beast a light pat before he walked towards the ledger, noting the day's haul.

He'd barely finished writing down the last zero before Dutch stomped his way over, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

'Arthur! A successful day, I see?' the older man said, his black moustache twitching in delight.

''Bout as good as any,' Arthur replied, placing the money and a set of pearl earrings in the box. 'Trelawney's got another job for us.'

'Smile then, Arthur,' Dutch's deep voice boomed, 'come tell me about this job.'

Arthur followed him to his tent, the soft melodic tunes of Wagner humming from the gramophone as Dutch picked up his half finished drink.

'What is this job then, son? If it's Josiah, I'm sure there's good money in it for us,' Dutch said, sitting on the folded out chair.

'So he says. It's... personal,' Arthur commented, as he tucked his thumbs into his gun belt and leant against the tent post.

'That ain't no excuse for a job,' Dutch said, setting aside the glass with a clink. 'What's the story?'

'It's his niece. Some gang tried to rob her estate. Says she's all shaken up. Wants to pay us for looking after her or some shit, all legitimate.'

Arthur told him the rest, about the Pinkertons, Trelawney's damn begging. Hopefully, it was enough to put Dutch off. But the gang leader held his gaze, thoughtful but unreadable. They stayed in silence for sometime as Arthur, as usual, waited for his lead as the only thing Arthur heard was the sound of classical music and the sounds of the surrounding woods.

'Well,' Dutch began slowly, sipping his whiskey, 'I'm not keen on this, but Trelawney is one of ours - for the most part and it's money.'

Arthur snorted, kicking his boot at the ground beneath him.

'I get that, Dutch,' Arthur said, 'but we got enough trouble as it is.' He gestured with his arm as he stood up straight.

'Have some faith, Arthur!' Dutch commanded, although not unkindly, 'a legal job, a comfortable estate, nice hot food. It'll be a nice reward for you.'

Arthur tried to not roll his eyes, but Dutch did always have a way of spinning things.

'All I'm saying is that we could use a little peace and quiet,' Dutch continued, scratching his jaw, 'and I know you ain't too fond of those two. Besides, you never know what might happen with the law involved.'

'I know, I know,' Arthur scoffed with a sigh. 'What's the plan, then?'

'When Josiah graces us with his presence, go up there, see what the situation is. Take Hosea with you. Make it all very professional, like you're a private contractor.' Dutch pulled out a cigar, lighting and puffing at the fat end up until it glowed a bright orange. 'I can't imagine this niece of his would be welcoming of some wanted folks turning up at her doorstep.'

Arthur chuckled, a sight that would be. Knowing Josiah, she was probably under the impression he was some famous opera singer in Italy. Would explain his foolish performance earlier.

'Alright,' Arthur said, 'Suppose we'll wait on that fool. Leave it with me, Dutch.' Turning around, Arthur left the tent, walking over to his own and sitting down on his cot.

Removing his shoes, he took out his journal from the satchel. Might as well keep himself occupied with that while he had a moment's peace.