Chapter 87: Cornwall’s Men
“Alright, Davey. I knew coming here wouldn’t be easy.”
“For the sake of that once-every-three-days deal, I’ll agree for now.”
Uncle staggered toward his room, bottle in hand, the maid leading the way ahead of him.
No one ever turns down a bit of pleasure—well, except for Puritans.
“Davey, why do I have to practice shooting? Isn’t my aim good enough already?”
Mac sounded frustrated, his mind still lingering on the beautiful woman from earlier.
He also thought Davey was overreacting. In his view, his marksmanship was already top-tier—it was rare to find anyone who could outshoot him.
“Listen, Mac.”
Davey motioned for the maid, Elisa, to leave, then his face hardened.
Mac immediately sensed that Davey was about to talk about something serious and dropped his casual attitude.
“Our moonshine business looks good, sure—but the money we’re pulling in now beats any haul we ever got from a robbery.”
“You know how much we’re making per day?”
Mac thought for a moment. “Five hundred bucks?”
To him, that already sounded like a lot.
Davey shook his head slowly, holding up two fingers.
Mac frowned. “What, only two hundred? Feels like it should be more than that.”
Davey snorted. “Two thousand.”
Mac froze, staring at him in disbelief. “Two grand a day... ten days is twenty grand... that’s sixty thousand a month—oh my god, Davey, you’re not kidding, are you? That’s not funny.”
Davey just looked at him calmly without answering.
“So this is real? We’re really making two thousand a day off moonshine?”
Even now, Mac could hardly believe it—it sounded unreal. He wasn’t sure he could even process how rich they suddenly were.
Davey took out a pack of premium cigarettes, tossed one to Mac, and lit his own.
“Mac, you think people wouldn’t get jealous if they found out how much we’re making?”
“Look at us—besides you and me, do we have any reliable men?”
“This much money, and from an illegal business at that—there’s no protection under Federal law. If someone stronger comes along, they can take everything from us.”
“Even the O’Driscoll Gang—could the two of us stand against them?”
“You know why I had you join the rescue for Sean MacGuire? Because right now, we still need the Van der Linde Gang’s name to keep people wary of us.”
“But you know the truth. If someone came after us, do you really think Dutch would step in?”
“He’d probably be happy to see someone rob us.”
“Thanks to the moonshine trade, we’ve already made enemies—and we’ll make plenty more.”
“You know what kind of men Donal keeps better than I do.”
“And here you are, drinking every day and wasting your strength on women. What, are you waiting for our enemies to show up while you’re lying there ready to die?”
Davey’s words hit Mac hard. He lowered his head.
“I’m sorry, Davey. I never thought about any of that. I just figured once we had money, we should enjoy ourselves.”
“But I didn’t think it’d come to this.”
Seeing Mac like that, Davey said with a faint smile, “No need to apologize, Mac. We’re brothers—twin brothers.”
“Now we’ve got to build our strength. That’s the only way we’ll keep this business—and make even more money.”
“Before, we relied on raw talent with a gun. But true Sharpshooters are forged by feeding countless bullets.”
“I’ll be busy running the business, so I won’t have much time to train. But you, Mac—my brother—I want you to become the best marksman there is.”
“Of course, we’ll also need more men. That’s why I’m building a shooting range.”
Mac nodded seriously. “I understand, Davey. Don’t worry—I won’t go back to my old ways.”
Davey smiled, satisfied. “It’s fine to relax a bit, as long as you don’t overdo it like before.”
“Uncle used to be quite the shooter himself. Maybe you can pick up a few tricks from him.”
“It’s late now. Go get some rest.”
As Mac left, Davey watched him with a hint of emotion. He couldn’t help but feel like an old father.
But that wasn’t far off—the eldest brother is like a father, after all.
...
At that moment, a group of men in suits stepped off the train at Valentine Station.
They were agents of Leviticus Cornwall, sent ahead to gather information about the Van der Linde Gang.
Since the Pinkertons had failed to deliver the results Cornwall wanted, he had decided to take matters into his own hands.
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