Davey suddenly snapped, as if something had set him off. He pulled the revolver from his hip and aimed it straight at Micah Bell.
The room instantly filled with tension.
No one had expected Davey to draw his gun so suddenly.
"Davey! What the hell are you doing?"
Dutch, momentarily forgetting about Hosea, shouted at him. Even he instinctively rested a hand on his own holster.
As Davey's younger brother, Mac—though still a bit confused—did the same, hand hovering over his gun, ready to draw if needed.
The suffocating tension made everyone else in the room unconsciously reach for their weapons too.
Aside from John, who was still recovering from his wounds, everyone present was part of the Van der Linde Gang's main fighting force.
Dutch had never imagined things would escalate this far.
"Dutch, Dutch! Why the hell do you trust that rat? Just because he shared a drink with you at the saloon?" Davey barked.
"We never needed to rob that ferry in the first place. The tip came from him—and look what happened to us!"
"Everything went way too smoothly when we boarded that boat. It was clearly a trap set by the Pinkertons. We walked right into it!"
"If I hadn't realized something was wrong the moment we got on, Mac and I would've been shredded by a Maxim gun. Even so, my brother nearly died because of it!"
"He's a damn spy! And this train job he's pushing for—it's got to be another Pinkerton setup!"
Davey's face was flushed deep red, his furious roar echoing across the camp.
Anyone could see he was on edge, his emotions teetering on the brink.
'That lunatic,' Dutch cursed inwardly.
This was typical Davey.
The Callander brothers had always been wild, true outlaws even among outlaws. Compared to the rest of the Van der Linde Gang, they were the real desperados.
The shouting drew people from around the camp.
Susan Grimshaw appeared, a shotgun gripped firmly in her hands.
Everyone had heard what was said inside. Now that Mrs. Grimshaw understood the cause of the conflict, she was ready to end it with a single shot.
In her mind, Micah Bell's arrival had brought nothing but discord to the gang. Kill him, and everything would return to order.
Micah reacted fast. The moment he sensed Mrs. Grimshaw's intent, he darted behind Dutch for cover.
He hadn't done so earlier because, despite Davey's fury, the man's finger had never touched the trigger—it had been more of a threat than a real intention to shoot.
But Mrs. Grimshaw was a different story.
She was more than capable of pulling that trigger.
A flicker of regret crossed Davey's eyes.
If Susan Grimshaw had blown Micah's head off right there, it would've been a beautiful sight.
But she hesitated—just for a moment—and that moment passed.
"Enough! Davey, put the gun down! You too, Mrs. Grimshaw!" Dutch bellowed, his voice sharp with anger. Things were spiraling out of control, and he had to put a stop to it.
Davey finally relented, sliding his revolver back into its holster. He glared coldly at Micah, then turned to Dutch.
"Dutch, if you choose to trust him, then we won't be joining you for this train job."
Without waiting for a reply, Davey turned and walked out. Mac followed close behind.
Everything had happened so fast that most people hadn't even processed it yet.
The Callander brothers were the gang's strongest fighters. Much of the Van der Linde Gang's success over the years was thanks to them.
Arthur might have been one of the best now, but he still hadn't reached his full potential.
Hosea looked as if he wanted to speak, but he knew it was pointless. Dutch's plan to rob the train was set in stone now.
Unless... they killed Micah Bell.
But everyone knew that would never happen.
Dutch knew it better than anyone—if he killed Micah, it would make him look like he'd caved to the Callander brothers' pressure, and Dutch Van der Linde would never allow himself to be threatened.
"Let's move on," Dutch said calmly, as if nothing had happened. "It's time to finalize the train robbery plan. Anyone still not on board?"
Outside, Mrs. Grimshaw was driving away the onlookers who had gathered around.
"Back to work, all of you!" she barked.
Once the cabin door shut, Hosea said nothing more.
Charles stayed silent too.
But in everyone's eyes as they looked at Micah Bell, there was a simmering anger that couldn't be hidden.
No one blamed the Callander brothers.
If it hadn't been for Micah Bell, the gang never would've robbed that cash-loaded ferry in Blackwater, and none of this would've happened.
If it hadn't been for Micah Bell, the Callander brothers wouldn't have fallen out with Dutch.
Oh, damn Micah Bell.