Chapter 94: Cornwall: I Have a Plan
The four men guarding Cornwall didn’t dare draw their guns.
Because once a gun was drawn, things would spiral out of control.
Some people could afford not to care—but no one in the West could afford to ignore the name of the Callander brothers. The Western world wasn’t so small that word didn’t travel, and every well-known gunman had heard of them. None of the guards had the confidence to draw on the Callanders.
“Now, gentlemen, do you still plan to stop us?”
Davey took a cigarette from one of his men, lit it, and spoke calmly.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances before reluctantly stepping aside. In truth, Cornwall had already given orders—block them if possible, but if not, it wasn’t worth dying over.
Davey and his brother walked in openly and unhurriedly, while the few men behind them stayed outside to guard the entrance.
As Davey entered, he seemed relaxed, but his hand was already hovering near his holster. The slightest wrong move, and he would draw without hesitation.
Killing Cornwall would be troublesome, sure—but compared to his own life, it was nothing.
Fortunately, as it turned out, Davey had been overly cautious.
Still, a little paranoia was never a bad thing.
“Mr. Callander, you seem a bit tense,” Cornwall said. “But I have no intention of harming you. If I did, I wouldn’t have come here myself.”
The restaurant was empty except for Cornwall, who sat alone at a table in the center. He methodically sliced his steak and ate slowly, with deliberate precision.
“Mr. Cornwall, this is rather rude of you,” Davey said as he took a seat across from him. “You invited me to dinner, yet you started eating before your guest arrived.”
Cornwall gave a cold laugh. “Callander, you talking about manners? Isn’t your Van der Linde Gang the least mannered bunch in the West?”
“You robbed my train. Then my oil wagons. And before that, I don’t recall ever having a quarrel with you.”
“Do you take me for an easy mark? Is that why you keep coming after me?”
He looked down on the Van der Linde Gang as little more than a pack of country thugs — even the well-dressed man sitting before him.
Still, his anger and humiliation were entirely real.
Once was bad enough. Twice was intolerable. And he suspected there’d soon be a third time — and a fourth.
“Sorry, Mr. Cornwall,” Davey said evenly. “You’ve got money, and we don’t. Sometimes we just have to borrow a little to get by.”
“Friends should help each other out. Maybe we just shared some of your wealth without asking first.”
Davey didn’t bother pinning it all on Dutch to clear himself — there was no point.
Cornwall set down his knife and fork and dabbed at his mouth with a white napkin.
“It seems, Mr. Callander, that you’re quite confident — that I can’t touch you, that even Pinkerton can’t do a damn thing to you.”
“Your bootlegging business, your ‘legitimate’ status here in Valentine... Callander, I might not be able to get Van der Linde, but believe me, I can make everything you have disappear overnight.”
Cornwall wasn’t exaggerating. As a railroad magnate, he might not be able to crush hardened outlaws, but when it came to men like Davey, he had plenty of leverage.
He could use his influence with the law to cut Sheriff Malloy off from Davey, or even pull some strings to have the sheriff transferred somewhere else.
He could also sabotage Davey’s bootlegging operation piece by piece.
“So, what you’re saying, Mr. Cornwall,” Davey said coldly, “is that you’re threatening me — the same way you did with Limpany. Anything in your way gets burned to the ground.”
Cornwall was a bit surprised that Davey knew about Limpany, but he didn’t care. The trail there had long gone cold.
“If that’s how you want to see it, then yes — take it as a threat, Callander.”
“Listen, Callander, I know everything you’ve been doing in Valentine. I’m offering you a chance — a chance to become my ally.”
“If you and your brother help me capture Dutch and deliver him to me, we’ll be friends.”
“Your moonshine business will run freely across New Hanover — and even into New Austin and West Elizabeth.”
“Your liquor will travel farther and faster on my trains. You’ll make more money than you ever could with your small operations. Before long, you’ll be counted among the richest men in the country.”
“That’s a lot more rewarding than tagging along with the Van der Linde Gang, isn’t it?”
Cornwall painted an enticing picture — and truth be told, it sounded far more realistic than Dutch’s so-called grand plan.
Given the situation, if Davey were to step onto Cornwall’s train, his connections and profits would soar. He could rise far beyond his current standing—maybe even join the ranks of high society across the United States.
But would Davey swallow the bait Cornwall was offering?
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