Miss Morgan

Eight

April 1887
-Arthur-

I guide Bolt along the streets of York, a smaller town about an hour outside of Lincoln. We're camped somewhere in the middle. I follow Dutch and Hosea along the path toward the Banking House of Lee and Hoyt.

My heart is pounding in my ears as we survey our surroundings. We've never robbed a bank before but I know this is going to be our biggest score yet, by a lot. We really need this one too.

Dutch and Hosea met a woman in Lincoln struggling to feed the kids in the orphanage and if we can get this money we'll be able to get those kids the money they desperately need.

We hitch up our horses outside and one by one make our way to the bank. Hosea steps into the bank first while Dutch casually leans on the wall outside. I wait a moment then head inside where I see Hosea chatting with the clerk about some nephew that doesn't actually exist and while he has the clerk's attention, I press the barrel of my cattleman revolver to the clerk's temple.

As I do this, Dutch saunters through the door with his own revolver pointed and ready. "Throw up your hands." He growls at the poor guy behind the counter.

"Throw up your hands!" Hosea and I repeat Dutch's words simultaneously and finally the clerk does as he's told.

"Now!" Dutch barks. "My fine patriotic friends and I are going to relieve you of that gold and introduce a few folks to the benefits of civilization."

The clerk is shaking like a leaf but he doesn't fight us on this. "Unlock the door and let my associates in." I tap my revolver to his temple to remind him to cooperate and he does.

Dutch and Hosea step around the counter and pick up burlap sacks filled with gold. It's more money than I've ever seen in my life and Dutch asks the man where the rest is.

The clerk points a shaky finger to sacks in the corner of the safe and Hosea sees all the silver inside but decides it's more than we can carry.

I glance down at the clerk's name tag and read "MAJ BELFORD"

"Alright Major." I keep my gun pressed to his temple as I watch Dutch and Hosea retreat outside. "I'm gonna leave, but don't you even thing of sounding any alarms to the law you got that?" I threaten before I walk backwards out the front door and climb into my saddle to catch up to Dutch and Hosea who are already a ways down the road.

"We did it!" Dutch laughs. "Our first bank robbery and god damn, was it a success! Oh, there must be a few thousand dollars worth of gold in that bag. Great job, boys."

We make a few stops on our way out of town to hand out some of the gold to some of the poor farmers in tattered clothing we find along the way before we finally reach the orphanage Dutch told me about and he sends me inside to deliver the money.

I climb the steps to the large grey building and awkwardly shuffle in the door. Kids are dirty and skinny inside and there are far too many for such a small building. It makes me sad because my sister and I are orphans, John too. He actually did spend a little time in a place like this. How different our lives would have been if we weren't so lucky enough to find Dutch when we did.

I approach a small desk where a middle aged woman with glasses sits hunched over a notebook where's she's drawing a sketch of a garden of flowers and statues and birds and bugs.

"You're very talented." I compliment her.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't hear anyone come in. What can I do for you?" She has dark circles under her eyes. Poor thing looks so stressed.

"Actually, I wanted to do something for you." I give her one of the sacks of gold. "A donation."

Her eyes nearly pop out of her skull when she opens the bag. "Oh my word..." she whispers as tears pool in her hazel eyes. "I don't know how to thank you."