Chapter 72: The Possibility of Selling Bonds
Arthur and Hosea both fell silent. Davey’s words brought back memories of that wagon ride to Horseshoe Overlook—of the Indian tribes they had seen along the way.
Back then, Hosea had spoken about the tragedy of the Indians’ fate.
Now, seeing themselves hunted by the Pinkertons and wanted by the United States, wandering from place to place like outcasts, they realized—how different were they really from those tribes?
“So, I chose to embrace civilization.”
“Arthur, Hosea, you both know—Dutch, and many others in the gang, including you, Arthur—are resisting civilization.”
“But that’s a foolish thing to do. Maybe we could make it to Tahiti, or even farther, but civilization won’t stop marching forward. One day, it’ll reach there too. No one can escape it.”
“If we can’t avoid it in the end, then why not try to understand it, accept it, and find a way to live within it?”
“Rejecting civilization is a ridiculous notion. Long ago, people lived off raw meat, wielding bows, arrows, and blades.”
“Now we use revolvers and rifles. Even this liquor, even the kerosene lamp we carry—aren’t these all products of civilization?”
“We’ve been relying on it all along, yet we still claim to reject it. Isn’t that absurd?”
Davey shared his thoughts on civilization—his understanding of it, and his attempt to convince them.
He hadn’t secretly read Arthur’s journal, but he knew what was written there—Arthur despised the modern, civilized world and longed to go west, to live as people once did.
Davey knew it was nearly impossible to change someone’s beliefs, yet he still tried to guide Arthur and Hosea toward a different way of thinking.
The memories of his past life and the emotions of this one made it impossible for him to watch them sink deeper into despair.
He wanted to pull them back, even if it seemed naive.
“Maybe you’re right, Davey,” Hosea finally said after a long silence, letting out a quiet sigh. “But you know as well as I do—we don’t have a better choice right now.”
“And… at least, not yet.”
After living so long, Hosea understood exactly what Davey meant—but he also knew this wasn’t the right time.
Arthur’s eyes were thoughtful. His mind drifted—to his gambler father, to Mary.
“You’re right, Davey. But just like Hosea said, we can’t do it yet.”
“But you did, and we’re happy for you.”
Davey didn’t push further. Change takes time—some stories, some moments, to make people see differently.
At least for now, Dutch hadn’t yet fallen into the madness that would come later. Most of the gang still believed in him.
“Alright, maybe I had a couple too many this morning—my tolerance sure isn’t what it used to be.”
“Let’s stop with the gloomy talk. Come on, here’s to a brighter tomorrow! Cheers!”
Davey smiled and raised his glass.
“Cheers!”
Arthur and Hosea lifted their glasses too.
Though Davey had changed in many ways, they could still feel it—his affection for them, and for the family they all shared, hadn’t changed at all.
“Davey,” Hosea said after a moment, “about those bonds—do you have any leads? I’ve spoken with a lot of people, but their offers are insultingly low.”
Davey nodded, thinking for a moment. He’d learned a bit about bearer bonds himself. Many assumed they could simply be traded for cash, but it wasn’t that simple.
Bonds are securities issued to raise funds, representing a promise by the issuer to pay interest at the stated rate and repay the principal at maturity.
They can be registered or bearer bonds, with the latter being tradable on the open market.
To collect U.S. dollars, the bondholder must clip the interest coupons and mail them to the issuer to receive payment.
The ones they stole from Cornwall’s train were bearer bonds issued by the Central Union Railroad. Because of their enormous value, anyone trying to collect interest on them would immediately draw suspicion.
That was why those bonds—worth tens of thousands of dollars—were so hard to move. No one wanted to cross Cornwall.
Especially since the robbery had already made the newspapers and stirred up quite a scandal.
Of course, if the profit was high enough, someone might still take the risk—but that was why buyers were lowballing their offers.
“Hosea, I’ve got dinner arranged tonight with the manager of the Valentine Bank. We’ll be discussing a few loan matters.”
“Why don’t you come with me? If anyone has the means—or the nerve—to buy those bonds, it’s him.”
“And even if he doesn’t, he can introduce us to someone who can handle them.”
Davey’s words gave Hosea a spark of hope. They had little access to powerful people, but the manager of the Valentine Bank was different.
He worked with men who moved in those high circles—men who might just have the kind of money, and nerve, they needed.
Author's Note
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