Chapter 65: News of Davey Reaches Camp
“Alright, Mr. Callander—eight thousand dollars is indeed an offer I can’t refuse.”
Chadwick lowered his head, a trace of defeat in his expression.
In these times, eight thousand dollars was an enormous sum, especially for a single family.
Though his farm was worth about five thousand, that was only its assessed value—very few people would actually pay that much.
While the farm ran steadily enough, it only brought in a few hundred dollars each month, and part of that went straight to paying off the bank loan.
“Mr. Chadwick, with this eight thousand dollars, you wouldn’t have to keep living out here in the rough West. You could move east—to Bean City, Angel City, the Federal City, or even the Big Apple.”
“You could buy a nice house or an apartment, give your children a proper education, and watch them grow into respected professionals—lawyers, doctors, men of standing.”
“Wouldn’t that be better than working this farm day after day, Mr. Chadwick?”
“Young Chadwick might even meet a lovely young lady in one of those big cities and start a family of his own. Believe me, he’d much prefer city life.”
Sensing Chadwick’s hesitation, Davey pressed gently but persuasively.
His words struck the mark—Chadwick’s resolve began to waver.
“Alright, Mr. Callander,” Chadwick finally said, sighing. “I think you’re right. Compared to a small place like Valentine, maybe it’s time I let young Chadwick go to a bigger city. That’s where his future truly lies.”
In the room next door, young Chadwick had been eavesdropping the whole time.
When he heard Davey offer eight thousand dollars, he nearly stopped breathing.
At seventeen or eighteen, he wasn’t a clueless kid—he knew exactly what that kind of money meant.
The family was well-off enough to own the farm, but he had seen the bigger cities himself and knew he preferred them.
Once the deal was settled, all that remained was to sign the contract.
On paper, the sale price was recorded as three thousand dollars—at Davey’s request.
Many people knew he’d made plenty of money, but no one knew the full extent of it.
Deep down, Davey was still the same man who preferred to stay low-key—unlike those in the Federal government who loved to brag and show off.
He gave the Chadwick family a day to pack their things.
By tomorrow morning, they’d be boarding the train to leave town.
The farm would soon bear a new name—Land Farm, matching the surname on Davey’s legal papers.
...
Horseshoe Overlook.
Mac followed Trelawny back to camp.
The moment he returned, he collapsed on his bed and fell sound asleep—completely exhausted.
“Trelawny, what’s with Mac?” Dutch asked with a grin. “Don’t tell me he’s been out handling some grand business we don’t know about?”
Trelawny chuckled. “That Mac fellow? He’s been living in the saloon day and night. When I found him, he had two beautiful ladies in his arms. I’d wager half the women in Valentine have spent the night with him by now.”
“His once-strong body’s been completely drained by those lovely ladies—he’s got nothing left in him.”
“Davey told me to bring him back to camp so he could rest for a few days before we set out to rescue Sean MacGuire.”
At the mention of Davey, Dutch frowned. “And where is Davey? Why hasn’t he come back? Don’t tell me the women of Valentine have trapped him too—or is he just not interested in rescuing Sean?”
Dutch’s tone immediately made the camp fall silent.
Everyone could tell—he was genuinely angry.
Sean MacGuire was well-liked in the gang.
Sure, the lad had a sharp tongue, but most saw him as family.
And in their eyes, family meant looking out for one another—though, admittedly, many would make an exception for Micah Bell.
Trelawny hesitated for a moment before answering. “Davey’s situation has… changed. If he came along, it’d only complicate things for the rescue. He’s not the same man he used to be.”
Dutch’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly do you mean by that, Trelawny? What’s going on with Davey?”
Trelawny sighed. “Moonshine. The moonshine flooding Valentine and all the nearby farms, ranches, and factories—that’s Davey’s business.”
At that, Hosea, who’d been nearby, stepped forward. “Trelawny, are you saying that moonshine operation belongs to Davey?”
Unlike Dutch, who’d been lounging at camp, Hosea had been traveling all over trying to find buyers for the train bonds they’d stolen.
He was no stranger to the moonshine that had taken over New Hanover—he’d even bought several bottles himself.
The low price and unique sweetness of the drink had impressed him.
But he never imagined that behind such a massive operation… the boss would be Davey.
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