Chapter 73: The 20% Kickback
After leaving the Saloon, Davey took them to his farm.
Arthur knew the place well—it was here he had met Mary not long ago. He hadn’t expected Davey to have bought the entire farm, and the sight of it stirred a quiet envy in him.
Sometimes, words don’t quite capture a thing’s weight. But when you see it for yourself, you realize just how wide the gap really is.
“A farm this big—can you really handle it all, Davey?” Arthur asked casually.
“Of course not just me,” Davey replied. “I’ve got help. Donal—he used to run with the O’Driscoll Gang—is working for me now. Most of his old crew have left that life too.”
“I asked them if they knew where Colm was, but no luck,” Davey added. “That bastard Colm—one day I’ll catch him.”
As they walked through the farm, several workers paused their labor to greet him respectfully.
“Mr. Land.”
Hosea looked puzzled. “Davey, when I came through the countryside earlier, I saw the sign that said ‘Land Farm.’ Thought it was a mistake.”
“So, you’ve changed your name?”
Davey explained, “We’re wanted men, Hosea. So I arranged for a new identity—Davey Land. Used it to buy property and take out loans.”
“Of course, it cost me quite a few dollars.”
He smiled faintly. “Once you two find a place to settle down, you could do the same.”
Though they’d suspected as much, hearing it confirmed stirred genuine envy in Arthur and Hosea. Even if it was technically a kind of self-deception, Davey had managed to free himself from his wanted status. He could now live openly among civilized people, while they still relied on fake names to hide.
Just then, several wagons rolled in, loaded with lumber. Workers bustled about, unloading the timber.
Davey explained that he planned to build houses on the property for his workers, so they could live there with their families.
That gesture earned him even more respect from Arthur and Hosea. They saw that Davey hadn’t become one of those exploitative money-men they despised.
He was living the very ideals they once shared—while they remained wanted outlaws, killers on the run.
...
Davey hosted Arthur and Hosea in the farmhouse.
Maids brought tea, coffee, and wine.
Arthur later stepped outside, took out his journal, and sketched scenes from the farm. Beneath the drawings, he wrote:
Hosea and I visited Davey’s farm. It’s big—plenty of people working here.
Davey really has changed. Back at the Saloon, he talked a lot about civilization.
The way he looked at me as he spoke—it felt like he knew what I was thinking.
I envy him, and I’m happy for him. Maybe this is the kind of life I’ve been looking for.
I thought again of that woman, right here, where I met her once before.
If I had a farm like this, maybe she’d have chosen to stay with me.
Maybe one day, I’ll buy a piece of land in Tahiti, just like Davey.
Then I’ll go find Mary—she won’t turn me down.
I have to admit, I do miss her.
...
That evening, Davey and Hosea went to Wells Restaurant. Arthur didn’t join them—he’d never cared for social dinners.
“Mr. Callander, it’s good to see you.”
The man was Carrit Kirk, manager of the Valentine Bank.
Davey had met him through Sheriff Malloy, though the sheriff wasn’t there tonight.
Clearly, Carrit knew who Davey was.
“Mr. Kirk, I’m glad you could make it. This is my friend, Hosea Matthews,” Davey said, making no effort to hide Hosea’s name.
“Please, don’t call me Mr. Kirk,” Carrit said with a smile. “I’ve got an older brother, Nathan Kirk—he’s the impressive one. I’m just a small-town bank manager in Valentine, while Nathan’s already a banker.”
In the United States, he explained, only the elder brother was formally addressed by the family name.
Davey hadn’t expected that connection. Nathan Kirk—that was the same man John and Sadie had hunted as a bounty target in his past life’s game. Clearly, in this world, Nathan was still a respected banker, not a fugitive.
Davey chuckled. “Then perhaps Mr. Carrit should call me Mr. Land.”
The light joke drew a smile and eased the atmosphere between them. After all, Davey Land was his legal name now.
“Of course, Mr. Land. Sheriff Malloy mentioned you’re looking to mortgage your farm,” Carrit said. “That’s a fine piece of land—it should get you quite a loan.”
“If I may ask,” Davey said, “how much could you offer, Mr. Carrit?”
Carrit answered directly, “By bank policy, I can lend you two thousand dollars.”
Davey shook his head. “Two thousand isn’t much help. My farm has several houses and runs well. I was hoping for a larger amount.”
“You don’t need to worry about repayment—it won’t be a bad debt. And if you help me out, I won’t let a friend walk away empty-handed.”
“Beyond the initial two thousand, I’ll pay you twenty percent of the extra as your commission.”
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