Chapter 3

"You don't look like you today, Dutch." The big man muttered on his way out the door.

"I know exactly what I'm doing, Arthur." Dutch proudly mounted his Arabian horse and took the two men away in the dust.

Thin frost, then snow, gradually appeared on the wilderness where the horses' hooves had trodden. The three of them put on their heavy coats and rode deep into the snowy mountains until they reached a small abandoned village called Colter.

"Who's there?" A man on sentry duty at the entrance of the village asked the visitor in a loud voice.

"It's Arthur, you idiot!" Fenton Callahan - who more often than not called himself Arthur Morgan - shouted over the fine snow shrapnel.

"The heroes are back!" The man on sentry duty reported to the village.

"Fenton ... What a stupid name. Why did you have to let me use that name, Dutch?"

"Because I miss Hosea so much." The one questioned gave an inexplicable answer. "Well, it doesn't matter what the name is, what matters is that I'll always be on your side, right Arthur?"

"Of course." Arthur replied almost reflexively, but then he suddenly realized what Dutch was asking, "Wait, you mean ...?"

"Nothing," Dutch didn't look at him, he just waved his hand, "Come on, let's have a nice chat. I've got a plan ..."

"You've always got a plan, Dutch."

"This is a good one."

For a moment Arthur thought he saw a hint of pity and guilt on Dutch's face, but he soon told himself it must be nothing more than an illusion, because knowing Dutch so much as he did, he couldn't think of any reason why he needed to make Dutch feel guilty about himself.

"Times have changed, Arthur." Dutch was silent for a moment and said, seemingly to himself, "Maybe you're wondering why I would go to work with a bastard like Cornwall. Maybe you'll think I've changed. But change - we can't fight change, just like we can't fight gravity. But don't worry, this time I'll bring everyone to survive. Bill!" Dutch seemed to suddenly remember something and shouted to the man on sentry duty, "Where's that O'Driscoll boy?"

"As you said, locked up in the barn, untied, fed and clothed, but not allowed to go out." Bill rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Dutch, when did you become so friendly to the O'Driscoll's?"

"I only have hatred for the O'Driscoll's who fire bullets at me or the people I love, Mr. Williamson." Dutch said gravely, "This poor chap is nothing but a stableman."

"And what if they had used a knife?" Arthur asked pointedly in return.

"Oh, shut up you, Fenton. Come with me!"

The two men walked into a log cabin, rubbed their hands together and sat down by the fireplace, where Dutch pulled a small bottle from his coat pocket and handed it to Arthur.

"Taste it and tell me how you feel."

"It doesn't taste too bad." Arthur said as he unscrewed the cap and sniffed the bottle, he lifted it and took a sip, "Moonshine?"

"It's hope." Satisfied, Dutch took the bottle Arthur handed back. "It's a whole era to come."

"You're going to be a bootlegger? That's your plan?"

"Part of the plan." Dutch examined the bottle of the devil's drink in his hand, "Believe me Arthur, the next era will be the time when prohibition is fully enacted. What do you think will happen in such an era?"

"I don't ... I don't know, Dutch. But we've never been in the bootlegging business, and can it really be profitable?" Arthur recalled the bootleggers he had met, "It was all petty thieves, guys who tended to make a little extra money sneaking bottles and jars in their own cellars or in the bushes where no one visited, but I never heard of any gang that made a fortune off the stuff."

"People's quest for alcohol is eternal, Arthur. That quest, like our desire for freedom, doesn't go away just because a few silly pussies get beaten up by their drunken husbands, or a few brainy Puritan priests spout nonsense. When the alcohol-hungry people get tired of the watered-down pussy drinks at the public sales office, we'll be their - Prometheus!"

Arthur still wasn't sure, but his attitude was consistent: "If you say so."

Dutch sighed: "The transition is very difficult, Arthur, but it's something we have to do. Well, Hosea and I still have to talk about the specifics, and I know you have a lot of things to do, like a three-star raccoon or something ..."

"... What are you babbling about?"

" Oh, it nearly slipped my mind, we're still here in Colter. Anyway, you go ahead about your business, the snow has stopped, Hosea knows a place called Horseshoe Overlook along the Heartlands which is very suitable for temporary hiding, you can pack up and get ready for depart in the last few days. But don't go too far, we have an appointment with Mr. Cornwall next month."