Dutch's voice carried clearly across the camp, loud enough for everyone to hear.
When word spread that he intended to give the Callander brothers a share of the train robbery's spoils, many faces turned sour with discontent.
Micah Bell looked particularly displeased. He hadn't expected Dutch to make him hand over the cigars and brandy, and parting with those luxury goods clearly pained him.
Still, Micah understood that Dutch was trying to help smooth things over with the Callander brothers. So, though reluctant, he hurried over and offered the remaining cigars and brandy to Davey.
Davey snorted, refusing to take them himself. Instead, he gave Mac a look.
Mac, who had been eyeing them the whole time, didn't hesitate once he had Davey's silent approval. He reached out and snatched them straight from Micah's hands.
Only after seeing Mac walk away with the cigars and liquor did Dutch finally smile with satisfaction.
Davey saw through the act immediately—this was one of Dutch's tricks. He was deliberately isolating the Callander brothers from the rest of the camp, tightening his hold over them. It was the move of a leader seeking control.
The combined strength of the Callander brothers was formidable. If they also won the gang's favor, it would weaken Dutch's authority as leader. Davey understood that well, but he didn't care.
"Alright, Dutch. I trust you," he said evenly.
This wasn't the time to turn against Dutch. Even if he planned to leave, he'd need another place lined up first.
Not that Davey intended to join another gang—most were far worse than the Van der Linde Gang. At least for now, Dutch's crew still had some kind of moral line, though Davey knew that line wouldn't last much longer.
Seeing Davey yield made Dutch genuinely happy. It reminded him of the days when he still had complete control over his men.
So, with renewed confidence, Dutch began another one of his impassioned speeches.
"Hey, listen up, everyone—I've got a plan..."
The success of the train robbery had the entire camp in high spirits.
The bonds, worth tens of thousands of dollars, were a glimmer of hope for their future.
Dutch really did have a gift for rallying people. Under his words, Abigail could almost see a peaceful life ahead. Hosea's face was full of smiles. Karen, Sadie, Pearson—all of them looked genuinely pleased.
Even Mac joined in, happily puffing on expensive cigars and sipping fine brandy.
But only Davey knew: the higher the joy now, the greater the disappointment to come. The fall from heaven to hell would be brutal.
Cornwall wasn't the only man they had crossed. Those train bonds involved several other magnates—oil tycoons, shipping giants, railroad barons.
Any one of them alone could shake America to its core.
The Van der Linde Gang had offended them all at once. Their days of comfort were numbered.
Money was one thing—but pride, that mattered more.
...
As the robbery faded into the past and the weather cleared, the gang began preparing to move camp. Their next destination was Valentine, at Horseshoe Overlook in the Heartlands.
Before departure, Dutch approached Davey and asked him to travel with Arthur and Hosea. Davey didn't refuse.
Mac was assigned to ride with Micah, a move Dutch hoped would help ease the tension between them.
It was a clever idea—after all, at their core, the Callander brothers and Micah weren't so different.
Only Davey had changed. Mac hadn't.
Davey just smiled at Dutch's plan, knowing Mac would still listen to him.
Sure enough, during the trip, a few sharp words were exchanged, and Mac ended up planting a solid punch right on Micah's face.
Dutch had no choice but to move Micah to another wagon.
Arthur tried to cheer Davey up along the way.
"Davey, isn't this great? We've left that damn snow behind and found a new place to start fresh."
"I heard Valentine's a real civilized town. Once we get there, we can easily sell those bonds. That's tens of thousands of dollars, right, Hosea?"
Arthur didn't really understand how valuable the bonds were, so he looked to Hosea for confirmation.
Earlier, Davey had estimated they were worth only a few thousand dollars, and Arthur had assumed he was mistaken.
Hosea laughed. "You're right, Arthur. These bearer bonds are worth a fortune. Cornwall and several other companies issued them together. I'd say we could fetch at least fifty thousand dollars for them."
Fifty thousand dollars was an enormous sum for the time.
In 1899, there were only about 4,500 millionaires across the entire United States. The federal government's annual payment to the Pinkertons for law enforcement contracts was also just fifty thousand.
A well-dressed gentleman could outfit himself completely for under twenty dollars—a suit cost seven to sixteen dollars, a shirt one dollar, and a hat forty-eight cents.
For a dollar, you could buy ten neckties—enough to wear a different one every day.
Women's blouses went for ten to twelve dollars, hats cost thirty-five cents, and shoes ran two to three dollars a pair.
Most women sewed their own clothes since it was cheaper than buying ready-made garments. Only for special occasions would they visit a shop for a dress.
That was how much fifty thousand dollars was worth back then—an unimaginable fortune.