I'm not super satisfied with this chapter. In my outline these events covered two chapters, but there just wasn't enough material and I didn't want it to drag. But now we are getting to the main events of the game!

Chapter 22: The Trolley Robbery

Arthur was trying to politely refuse a gift when the loud crash echoed between the buildings to Algernon Wasp's shop at the edge of town.

Arthur had stopped in his shop to deliver some Moccasin Orchids from Roanoke Ridge, the one consolation from his trip north. He just so happened to run into Theodore Levin near the docks one morning and gave the photographs and disappointing tales of the old Wild West days. But when Mr. Levin revealed that he intended to credit Calloway with the killings, the old gunslinger went crazy and insisted his glory days weren't over. Arthur ended up rescuing a state marshal named Slim Grant from the Murfree Brood only to deliver him to Calloway for one final duel to end an old feud. Slim Grant refused to fight and Calloway shot him in the back. Calloway then turned his gun on Arthur to prove his worth, but Arthur was a better draw. Jim 'Boy' Calloway died, and Theodore Levin changed the details to give his book a better ending.

Though the promise of finally being paid for interviewing those gunslingers made up for it.

Algernon had insisted on making Arthur something, for both his many trips into the swamps for orchids and alligator eggs and for saving his life from a peanut at the party. The gift in question was a top hat, one that Arthur could tell was finely made. Flawless stitching blended the colors together seamlessly, matching the plumage from a bird Arthur didn't recognize.

That being said, it was the ugliest hat Arthur had ever seen.

"It's very… exotic," Arthur answered when asked for his opinion.

"I made it for you!" said Algernon, practically bursting with excitement.

"Uh, for me? Naw… I'm just a… it's…" It looked like one of those flower vase paintings, still-life or whatever they called it. "It would be wasted on me, Algernon. It's too fine for a man of my coarseness."

"At least try it on."

"No."

"Please?" Algernon had Arthur cornered against the mirror.

"Fine, here we go." He placed the hat on top of his head and instantly regretted it. He couldn't imaging wearing this hat ever! It clashed horribly with his normal outfit, far to busy with all the colors. "Yeah, it's not exactly me," he shrugged.

"No, you're right, it's all wrong!" Algernon said, snatching the hat back. "I went forte and I should've gone molto adagio. Here's your money for the eggs and the flowers."

"You got anything else?"

"But I've imposed too much already and I'm ashamed of the millinery."

"You pay well," Arthur insisted. Really, the man paid more money than Arthur ever thought flowers were worth. If he had known living an honest life would be this easy… though while things ended badly with Dutch, he wouldn't trade those early memories for anything. "It's easy enough work."

"I do need some more orchids," Algernon began when the deafening scraping and crash that followed shook the displays in the room.

"What was that!" Algernon cried out, jumping to steady the glass cabinet behind him. Arthur wondered the same thing, until the police whistles and distinct sound of gunfire came from the same location. Just up the street. Not far from Al's apartment!

"Stay here!" he told Algernon, and raced out into the garden. What did Albert say he was doing today? It was a meeting with someone. Evelyn Miller, that was it! Was that meeting for the morning or afternoon? And where? He leaned out to make a run across the street, but instantly jumped back when the shooting started just up the way. Which happened to be on Albert's street.

The shooting moved on, and the police whistles followed. Arthur ran around their blockade and into the side alley, leapt the stairs two at a time, burst through the door, and…

"Don't move, I've got a gun!"

"Al?"

"Arthur? Arthur!" Albert dropped the revolver and jumped up from behind the sofa. His eyes drifted over Arthur, checking for injuries, but Arthur crossed the room and pulled him into a hug.

"You're okay, we're okay," he murmured, planting a kiss into Albert's hair, but his heart dropped when Albert suddenly pulled away.

"Arthur… you remember Evelyn Miller, right?"

The writer stood up from behind the sofa and gave a sheepish wave. "Don't mind me," he said. The gunshots were fading into the distance, and Arthur felt himself relax a little more.

"Yes, of course. Good to see you again, sir." He reacher out a hand, and Evelyn Miller's hand trembled as it took his.

"And you as well, Mr. Callahan, was it?"

"…Yeah. I think we're safe now." They could still hear the fighting, but it continued to move away from their apartment. Arthur picked up the gun from behind the sofa and asked, "Is this one of mine?"

"Yes," Al said.

"Do you even know how to use this?"

"Not really, no."

Arthur laughed, "How did you ever think you were going to be a wildlife photographer without me?"

Evelyn Miller cleared his throat. "Well, I hope you don't mind me staying a little longer."

"Oh course not, Mr. Miller. Stay as long as you need," said Arthur. "Did you have a good meeting, at least?"

"It was quite productive, yes. I hope you don't mind, but I intend to steal your friend for a few days to photograph the Wapiti people. Perhaps we can change some hearts here and in Washington."

"Mind if I tag along?" Arthur asked.

"You can certainly come."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get involve with helping the Wapiti?"

"Well, that's a bit of a long story. For years now, I've been sitting in a university, writing books and giving lectures on how best to appreciate this country while experiencing none of it! I feel a bit of a fraud, sir. I thought perhaps if I helped somewhere, but so far I've only found failure in that as well."

"You ain't failed yet," Arthur tried.

"No, you are right."

They sat discussing travel plans until Evelyn Miller deemed it safe enough to leave. Then Albert and Arthur cuddled together on the sofa, just holding each other and talking softly, letting their fear drift away.

The knock on the door startled Arthur. He had been napping, arms wrapped lightly around Albert. He untangled himself even as Albert grumbled, "Who's visiting at this hour?" even though the hour was only five in the afternoon.

The knocking continued. "I'm coming, I'm coming," Arthur said and yanked the door open to reveal Hosea.

The older man relaxed and smiled. "Arthur, you're okay! I was worried, they were too close to your street."

"On our street at one point."

"I can't believe Dutch!"

"Wait," Arthur said. "This was Dutch?"

"Yes. Please, we need to talk." Arthur stepped back to allow Hosea into the apartment. "Good to see you again, Mr. Mason."

"And you, Mr. Matthews. Sit down, do you want anything to drink?" Albert asked.

"Some tea, thank you." Hosea settled into a chair, and Arthur sat on the sofa across from him.

"What happened? Why did Dutch start a shootout in the middle of the city?"

"Dutch got a lead from Angelo Bronte, that there were stacks of money in the trolley station. Dutch believed him, but it was a set up. The law was on them immediately."

"Jesus, Dutch believed Bronte? I could have told you there was no money in the trolley station." Arthur never rode the trolley himself, but the fare was rather cheap and the location was too open for a robbery. "Who went with him? No one got hurt, did they?"

"John and Lenny. They're both fine. I think Dutch hit his head pretty hard in the crash, though."

Arthur sighed. "Well, at least no one got killed. Why was John involved? I thought he was trying to get out with his family."

"He is. John's been saving money, and I think Dutch knows it, too. That's why he offered this job to John. Dutch wants to bring him back to the gang, he can't afford another person running off like you and Mary-Beth. So, he offered up the job, told John that he trusted him to do it, even let him pick the third person…"

"That worked out real well, didn't it," said Arthur.

"He's desperate, Arthur."

"Why are you hanging around the city still, anyway?" When Hosea didn't respond, Arthur took a moment to look at Hosea, to really look. Dark circles had formed under his slightly bloodshot eyes, his hands gave a tiny tremor when he reached for the teacup. Classic signs that the man wasn't sleeping enough. So he asked again, "What is the plan?"

"The bank. It's the only place where we can get enough money to get out of this mess."

Arthur sat up in his chair. "You can't! After all that's happened? Bronte controls the police. The Pinkertons will hear about the robbery and be in the city any day!"

"I've run some distractions and scoped out the bank. We can do it."

"It won't matter if Bronte increases security."

"Dutch… has a plan. To take care of Bronte. I don't agree," Hosea quickly added, "but whether I can persuade him otherwise doesn't matter. Either this robbery works, or…" Hosea couldn't finish the sentence.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I came here to warn you. So you can leave the city."

"No. No way in Hell am I leaving now. I can help!"

"No!"

"I don't mean rob the bank with you. I can keep watch, help with the distractions."

He almost missed the whisper that came from Albert next to him, but it was unmistakably there. "Arthur, please don't"

"Al?"

His friend buried his head in his hands. "If you get caught… I can't do that again."

"Neither can I," Hosea said. "Is there anywhere you can go."

"Yes," Albert jumped in before Arthur could. "I was invited to go north for a photography project. We were supposed to leave next week, but given the circumstances, I suppose I could ask to go now."

"This is insane," said Arthur. "After everything that's happened? How are you supposed to rob a bank? You need to get out of the city!"

"What else are we supposed to do?" Hosea asked, and Arthur could see the desperation in his face. "I may not agree with Dutch much anymore, but he is right about one thing. We need money if we want to get out of this mess."

"And John and his family? Are they a part of this?"

"John is. I'll try to talk him out of it, but the bank money would go a long way towards helping his family, and he knows it. Abigail won't be involved though. Dutch originally wanted to pair us together for the distraction, but I convinced him that Mrs. Adler would be a better replacement."

"Mrs. Adler?"

"She's quite the gun, Arthur. All fire and determination. I think you two would get along."

Arthur smiled slightly, but it was gone when he asked, "When is the robbery?"

"I don't know. Dutch seemed pretty determined to go after Bronte first. It was the only thing he talked about when I checked on him. But I give it two, three days tops before Pinkertons are in the city. You need to be gone before then."

"We will be," Albert said, but Arthur shook his head.

"No. Don't do this, Hosea."

"I'm sorry, Arthur. Please, just take care of yourself. Get yourself safe."

Arthur didn't say a word, so Albert took over. "I'll make sure he does. Oh, and here." He pressed a spare key into Hosea's hand. "In case you need somewhere to go in the city."

"Thank you, Mr. Mason. Arthur, I love you. Please be safe."

Arthur surged up and wrapped the man he considered to be a father into a hug. "I love you too, Hosea."

He didn't sleep at all that night.

Albert went straight to Evelyn Miller's hotel the next morning, and Arthur went around the city to say goodbye to some of his new friends. He waved to Brother Dorkins and Sister Calderón, both of whom he usually saw collecting money and food for the poor. He put more money in the basket that day, but didn't tell them why, exactly.

Near the Jade Dragon Restaurant, he ran into Charles Châtenay. Wearing a dress, a wig, and makeup, which covered even the goatee that he refused to shave. He didn't get the chance to tell him that he was leaving, because Charles was already on his way.

"What are you dressed up like that for?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, I am a wanted man, persecuted for my art."

"As bad as it is," Arthur chuckled, "I don't think that the art is the problem."

Charles planned to go to the South Pacific and needed and escort to the docks. A friend driven out of the city by a society that said he didn't belong, though Arthur was less inclined to blame society in this case. Especially when they had to duck around some unfriendly bar owners for good reason.

"You shat on their bar?" Arthur said to Charles.

"But of course! I needed to shit. Hey, come on. My fresh excrement was better than any of the drinks they served in there."

"Remind me to avoid that place," said Arthur as they ducked into the trolley station, operational once again as if nothing happened the day before.

"What's this? Quickly!" Charles said, then locked Arthur into a deep kiss. Arthur struggled to get away, but Charles only released him when he took a another look at the man in the station and said, "Oh, it's nothing. I thought I knew him."

Arthur glared at Charles and said, "Please do not do that again."

"What? I thought you like men."

"And I'm with one!"

"Oh, he will understand."

"Based on the all the husbands I keep protecting you from, I don't think you are the best judge of that."

They almost made it to the ship without incident, not counting the number of sailors who catcalled at Charles. Up close, Arthur could tell it was Charles under the powder and rouge, but the disguise worked well at a distance. In the end, however, Arthur still had to punch out the last few angry husbands to clear the way.

"Charles, you better hope this ship leaves soon."

"Adieu, merci, mon ami."

"So long. Hey, if they don't like you in the islands, just keep going to the South Pole."

"Ah, yes. I hear there the light is really fantastique!"

Arthur just shook his head as Charles disappeared into the ship. He moved fast to get away from the unconscious men before someone reported the assault.

The last place he stopped was Algernon Wasp's shop, to let him know that he wouldn't be able to collect the latest list of orchids for some time.

"Oh, what a shame! I am sorry you have to leave so soon, Arthur. And a shame about those orchids, though I am sure I will find someone willing to collect them. Perhaps not one with the same artistic eye you possess, but still… where are you off to?"

"The Grizzlies. My friend Albert has a photography job up that way."

"Perhaps if you could locate some Dragon's Mouth Orchids you could send them my way?"

"Of course."

"And it is a good thing you stopped by! I have your hat!" Algernon reached down under the counter and pulled out a white hat with a wide brim, and a unique blue, yellow, and orange feather attached to the side with a blue sash. "Inspiration struck last night and I couldn't sleep until I crafted it. I hope it is more to your liking."

It was still fancier than anything Arthur would normally wear, but much closer to his style than the previous hat. In fact, it was the closest a man like Algernon Wasp could get to making something for a man like Arthur Morgan. The design was simple but still elegant. "It's wonderful," he told the man. "You take care, Mr. Wasp."

He wandered to the street and sat on a bench, gazing out past the pedestrians and the horses coming and going as if nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong. He never thought he would want to stay in a city, but he didn't want Hosea and the others to be alone when they attempted the impossible.

"Arthur, dear boy?"

Arthur looked up and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark top hat and mustache. But it was just Trelawny, not the strange man. "Josiah Trelawny, good to see you."

"And you as well. Hosea told me that you were leaving the city? I'm trying to move my family out of here as well."

"I wish I didn't have to."

"Oh, I know."

"Where are you taking them?"

"I thought we would move up to New York. Someone like me could do well there, I think."

"Probably for the best to get away from the gang for a while."

Trelawny nodded. "Hosea gave his blessing. To leave, forever."

"Not that it really matters at this point, but you have my blessing as well."

"Thank you."

They continued to watch the pedestrians, all anonymous faces in their coats and hats and ties. They bustled about their lives, no one giving them a second glance. It gave Arthur an idea.

"Hey Trelawny?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Before you go, can you help me find an outfit that goes with this hat?"

A dark gray coat with a silver lapel. A silver and blue vest with a blue puff tie. Black town pants covering his boots and a crisp white shirt.

"I look like a rich idiot."

"No, you look rather smart. It's about time you dressed well."

"Like Hosea says, you want to con people, you'd better look the part."

"No one will suspect you were once an outlaw, dear boy, I can promise you that."

Arthur tugged at the tie a little, but Trelawny slapped his hand away. He put his new hat on his head to complete the outfit, amazed at just how different he appeared. "I just hope this works. Thanks, Trelawny."

"You are most welcome. Now, I must be going if I want to catch the next boat up the river."

"I understand. Good luck!"

"And to you as well, dear boy!"

On the walk back to the apartment, Arthur noticed a few people staring. But rather than the normal glares of disgust from people judging the cowboy in the city, the eyes drifted up to the hat with mild curiosity and amusement. Upon opening the door to the apartment, Albert gave a slight jump, not recognizing Arthur at first. And then…

Albert covered his mouth in an attempt to hide the snort that escaped, but within seconds he had descended into laughter. "What are you wearing?" he asked between gasps of air.

"It's a disguise!"

"A disguise?" And the laughter died. "You are staying, aren't you?"

"Al…"

"No. You have to come with me. Please!"

"I can't leave. Hosea and John, they're family. And they are in danger. No one will recognize me like this, and we are close enough to the edge of the city that I can sneak out once I know they are safe."

"And if the robbery goes wrong?" Albert asked. "What will you do then?"

"I don't know."

Albert ducked his head and turned away before saying, "I can't change your mind, can I?"

"I'm sorry, Al."

"I should stay, too."

"No. Go with Mr. Miller. I'll join you later."

"You better," said Albert. "If you don't, I'll… I'll never forgive you."

"Come here, Al." Reluctantly, Albert allowed himself to be pulled into Arthur's hold. "I promise you, I will be fine."

"You'd better."

"…there is something else I should probably tell you though."

"Oh, what now?"

"…Charles Châtenay kissed me today."

"What!"

But the story of Charles Châtenay's daring escape to the South Pacific dressed as a woman lightened the mood, and Arthur and Albert were able to enjoy the evening before Albert's trip.