The next morning, a harsh, unforgiving light sliced through the pre-dawn gloom at Horseshoe Overlook camp.
"Oh, gentlemen, ladies, no more sleeping! Jenny, Ms. O'Shea, Karen, Mary-Beth—everyone up, now!"
Dutch's voice, a thunderclap in the early morning stillness, shattered the fragile dreams of the gang members. Accustomed to the slow, languid rhythm of the outlaw life, they groaned, abandoning their beautiful slumber to sit up, groggy and disheveled.
"Dutch? What's wrong? It's barely morning!" a voice complained.
"Oh, I'm so sleepy, Dutch!" another whined.
The ladies grumbled, but Dutch paid them no mind. His eyes were fixed on Arthur, who was just shaking off the last vestiges of sleep.
"Arthur, my boy, get yourself ready. We're heading to Saint Denis today."
"Alright, Dutch!" Arthur grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs out of bed.
The morning air, sharp and bracing, filled their lungs, cutting through the lethargy. It took a chaotic half-hour for the gang to prepare. By then, Dutch, who had already enjoyed his morning romp with Ms. O'Shea, was impeccably dressed. He strode to the communal table at the heart of the camp.
"Kids, gather 'round. I'm assigning today's tasks." Dutch waved, his gesture commanding, drawing everyone closer.
"Dutch, what are we doing today? Is our plan finally beginning?" Jenny, her eyes sparkling with excitement, leaned close, her arms affectionately wrapping around his left shoulder. This girl, starved of paternal love since childhood, had found a father in Dutch. He had rescued her twice, and her entire heart had been irrevocably drawn to him. In her mind, Dutch was not just her rescuer; he was the embodiment of her ideal father—charming, confident, gentle, and overflowing with affection.
"Yes, it's about to begin, Jenny." Dutch patted her head, his gaze sweeping over the eager faces gathered before him.
"Gentlemen, our grand design is about to officially commence. However, as our full contingent isn't yet assembled, I'll detail the specific developments in a few days. Your task today is simple, yet crucial." Dutch's voice resonated with authority.
"Yesterday, Hosea and I scouted ranches in Valentine. We selected two magnificent properties and have finalized negotiations with Mr. Bandel, the bank manager. Your mission today is to acquire those two ranches, formally registered under Ms. O'Shea's name. Afterwards, you will proceed to Hope's Dream Ranch, located between Valentine and Strawberry. There, you will begin tidying the houses and moving a portion of our supplies."
He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Mac, you will accompany the ladies to Valentine to complete the ranch purchase. Protect them at all costs. Strauss, you are to guard every single dollar in our camp with your life; this is our entire startup capital. Bill, Uncle, you two will remain here, guarding the camp. No one enters while we are away. Ms. Grimshaw, Lenny, Abigail, and Ms. Sadie—the four of you will pack up all camp supplies designated for transfer. Once the ladies have secured the properties, you will move everything to our new ranch."
Dutch's voice swelled, radiating an almost hypnotic confidence. "Gentlemen, ladies. I know our lives have been hard lately, a ceaseless struggle. But now, we've recovered. Our fortunes are turning. These two ranches are but the first step in our new beginning. So, gentlemen, ladies, go forth! Strive to forge an even better life for yourselves!" His personal charisma blazed, making him seem omnipotent, instilling an unparalleled sense of trust in every heart present.
"Oh, Dutch, I love you! Dutch, I can't believe we're actually going to own… no, two ranches someday!" Abigail shrieked, dancing with unbridled joy, jumping up and down excitedly. This woman, who had yearned for a stable life since the birth of little Jack, felt as though a divine hand had touched her, granting her the most perfect, impossible moment.
"Hahaha, Dutch, are we really going to live in a house?!" Karen, equally ecstatic, threw her arms around Abigail, roaring with laughter, her ample chest heaving, drawing appreciative, if fleeting, glances. Mary-Beth, gentle by nature, merely bounced in place, a youthful exuberance lighting her face. Jenny, however, was beyond happy. She clung to Dutch, spinning him around, tears of joy in her eyes. She had found her perfect father, Dutch. And now, in this fleeting moment, she had a complete family, a true home.
Watching the infectious joy on the women's faces, Hosea smiled, a deep, contented sigh escaping him. He was truly happy. The people he cared for most were, at long last, within his sight, moving towards a demonstrably brighter future.
"Alright, Arthur, Hosea, Molly, Mary-Beth, Jenny, Karen, Tilly, Mac. It's time. We depart."
Dutch waited for the surge of excitement to subside, then waved his hand, a final, definitive gesture. Three horses and a sturdy carriage slowly rolled out of the camp, heading towards Valentine. The ladies, a chorus of excited chatter, filled the air with their dreams—the rooms they desired, the lives they yearned for—even breaking into raucous, vulgar songs, their inner joy spilling out like an uncorked bottle of cheap whiskey.
After ensuring the ladies had met with Mr. Bandel and initiated the ranch purchase, Dutch then took Hosea and Arthur to secure train tickets to Saint Denis. Their true destination, the heart of civilization, beckoned.
The relentless march of civilization was an unstoppable tide, impossible to resist or defy. Only the astute could seize the opportunity, planning their conquest before acting. With the amplified acuity of his trans-temporal vision, the unwavering support of his gang, and his own unshakable invincibility, Dutch knew if he allowed the gang to shatter again, he would be the ultimate fool.
A train whistle shrieked, piercing the quiet plains as it hurtled towards distant Saint Denis. Within its carriage, Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur sat, a trio akin to a young MacArthur newly deployed to the battlefield—three greenhorns poised on the precipice of a new frontier.
It took a full, arduous day. Not until the black expanse of midnight did the train finally pull into Saint Denis from Valentine.
Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur disembarked, stepping onto the crowded platform. Dutch's eyes widened, taking in the sprawling, grimy majesty of Saint Denis, and a heartfelt sigh escaped him.
"Oh, Saint Denis," he breathed, his arms outstretched as if to embrace the city itself. "The very ark of civilization in the West! It makes my blood boil! This is the shock, the awe, brought by progress, Arthur, Hosea! Look at this colossal city before us. How can we possibly continue to fight against such a force? No, the only path is to integrate ourselves. To surpass it!" His words, as always, dripped with a seductive allure, sounding utterly profound, yet upon closer inspection, offering little practical substance.
"The city's… nice, but the people here seem to live with a stark disparity. I don't particularly care for this place," Arthur grumbled, his gaze hardened. The train station, they quickly realized, was situated squarely within Saint Denis's sprawling slums. Seeing the gaunt, poorly dressed figures shuffling by, then recalling the immaculately attired rich folk on the train, Arthur felt a chilling thought: perhaps life in the gang wasn't so bad after all.
"Arthur, that is the raw essence of civilization," Hosea murmured, a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "It's filled with hidden filth, despite its gleaming surface." He then walked towards Dutch. "Dutch, let's find a place to sleep now. I hadn't realized we'd be on that train all day. This place is truly far."
"Of course, Hosea," Dutch replied, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "I imagine even you can't hold out any longer." The three retrieved their horses, which they had transported on the train, and began their slow, deliberate ride towards the opulent, treacherous heart of Saint Denis.