Dutch: wakes at 4:00 AM, staring into the flames, eyes full of restless fire Arthur: still sleeping, revolver under his bedroll, Snoring heavy Dutch: “Arthur... wake up. It's time.” Arthur: groans “Time for what, Dutch?” Dutch: “A little ride... and a lotta takin’. Got us a bank ripe for the pluckin’.” Micah grins from the shadows, loading his rifle. Hosea sips coffee with a knowing smirk. Javier sharpens his knife. The gang’s saddling up. the not so Experienced gunmen stay in camp
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