Loyalty Divided

Chapter Thirty One

Arthur's voice carried a rare intensity, his frustration palpable as he stared down Dutch, who stood with a stubborn set to his jaw, unfazed by Arthur's anger. "No. Absolutely not, Dutch," Arthur repeated, his tone firm and unwavering. He couldn't believe Dutch was seriously considering such a reckless move. Ben had been a steadfast friend, offering them shelter and goodwill without hesitation. The thought of betraying that trust gnawed at Arthur's conscience.

Hosea, ever the voice of reason within their group, interjected cautiously, his gaze shifting between Arthur and Dutch. "It's risky," he remarked, his tone calm but laden with concern. He understood Dutch's desperation for funds and the constant need to stay ahead of their pursuers, but this plan crossed a line they had always been careful not to cross.

Dutch's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he faced Arthur's resistance. "We need the money, Arthur," he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency. "And Ben's estate... it's ripe for the taking. We could use the funds to secure our future."

Arthur shook his head in disbelief, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Ben ain't just some mark, Dutch," he argued, his voice carrying the weight of their history together. "He's been nothin' but good to us. We can't repay him by robbin' him blind."

Hosea stepped closer to Arthur, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Arthur's right, Dutch. We've never targeted our friends before. There has to be another way."

Dutch's jaw tightened, torn between his ambitions and the loyalty he felt towards his comrades. For a moment, the room fell into a tense silence, each man grappling with the implications of Dutch's proposal. Finally, Dutch broke the silence, his voice measured but resolute. "Think about it, Arthur. Think about what's at stake here. We need to act, and soon."

Arthur met Dutch's gaze with a mixture of disappointment and defiance. "I won't be a part of this, Dutch," he declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. "Not this time."

Dutch's gaze hardened, the tension between them thickening. "Fine," he replied curtly. "If you won't help, then step aside. But we're doing this."

Arthur's gaze followed Dutch as he stormed out, the fabric of the tent flapping in his wake. The air inside the tent felt heavy with unresolved tension, a stark contrast to the usual sense of camaraderie and shared purpose that defined their gang.

Hosea sighed deeply, breaking the silence that lingered after Dutch's departure. "He's stubborn, Arthur," he said softly, his voice tinged with concern. "And more driven than ever."

Arthur clenched his fists, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Stubborn don't even begin to cover it," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the empty space where Dutch had stood moments before.

"I've seen him like this before," Hosea continued, his tone thoughtful. "But never quite like this. It's as if... he's losing sight of why we started all this in the first place."

Arthur nodded slowly, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. Loyalty to Dutch warred with his sense of right and wrong, his conscience weighing heavily on his shoulders. "We can't let him drag us down this path, Hosea," he said firmly, his voice resolute. "Not if we want to keep what little honor and respect we've got left."

Hosea sighed. "Get some sleep, my boy. We'll discuss it tomorrow."

Hosea's reassurance lingered in Arthur's thoughts as he made his way back to their tent. The night air was cool and carried a faint scent of pine, a stark contrast to the tension that had gripped their camp earlier. Evangeline was already asleep when Arthur slipped into the tent, her silhouette barely visible in the dim light of the lantern.