Again the boy cried out, and tried to go to his father, but the driver held him more tightly.
“You son of a bitch!” the boy shouted at Clark. “I’ll kill you for this some day!”
“You might at that, boy. You might at that,” Clark said, fighting the bile in his throat over having killed an innocent man.
Innocent? What is innocent? he wondered. That was certainly no longer a word he could use when thinking of himself. How easily he had slipped over the line onto the outlaw trail. He had started out to do good, to bring evil men to justice. Now, he was as evil as anyone he sought.
After holding up the stagecoach, Dodd, Conklin, and Clark rode hard for the rest of the day, stopping only occasionally to give the horses a breather. Even then, they didn’t stop, but continued to walk, always putting distance behind them. They did pause briefly just before nightfall in order to eat a few bites of jerky and to take a few swallows of water.
“Hey, Dodd, don’t you think it’s about time we seen what we took offen the stage?” Conklin asked.
“Yeah,” Clark said. “Why don’t you cut open that pouch and let’s have a look.”
“All right,” Dodd agreed. Pulling his knife from its holster he ripped a tear in the canvas, then reached in to pull out several letters, newspapers, flyers, and finally, two packets of money.
“Two little packages?” Conklin said, obviously disappointed. “That’s all we got is two packages?”
Dodd divided one of the packages in half, giving half to Conklin and half to Clark. He took the other packet for himself.
“I thought we divided equally,” Clark said.
“You thought wrong,” Dodd said. “I get half, everyone else divides what is left. ”
Clark counted the money in his share. It came to five hundred dollars.
“Not bad for three minutes of work, is it?” Dodd asked.
“I guess not,” Clark agreed.
“We got five thousand off a train oncet,” Conklin said.
“Five thousand?” Clark said. “Damn, why couldn’t we pull a job like that?”
“We’ll get another one like that,” Dodd said. “Don’t worry.”
“When?” Clark asked.
“Damn, Clark, you just joined up with us. You’re gettin’ a bit anxious, aren’t you?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Clark said. “I just see no sense in fooling around with little jobs.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Conklin said. He laughed. “I like that. Where did you hear something like that?”
“I don’t know,” Clark answered. “I’ve always heard it.”
Conklin was chewing on a piece of leathery jerky. He took a drink of tepid water from his canteen, then spit some out in disgust and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hell, we might as well be drinkin’ piss as drinkin’ this,” he complained. “And why are we eatin’ jerky? We ought to be eatin’ ham, or pork chops or fried chicken and drinkin’ beer, instead of jerky and water. Ain’t there a town somewhere near here?”
“What if there is?” Dodd answered.
“Well, if there is, we could go in an’ get some-thin’ fit to eat an’ decent to drink,” Conklin said. “We got money now. We got lots of money. Leastwise, that’s what I’m a’ thinkin'.”
“Do me a favor, Conklin, and don’t do no thinkin',” Dodd said. “You ain’t got enough brains to think.”
“You got no right to talk to me like that, Dodd.”
“You don’t like ridin’ with me, you can always go out on your own,” Dodd said. “Is that what you want to do?”
“No, I’m satisfied with the way things is goin'. I was just thinkin’ it would be nice to spend some of this money we’ve got, is all.”
“We’ll spend it when the time is right. But we can’t spend none of it around here. There’s too many folks that know who we are, and this is too close to where we’ve been workin'.”
“It just don’t sit well with me, havin’ money and not bein’ able to spend none of it,” Conklin said.
“Dodd is right,” Clark said. “It would be foolish to get careless now.”
“What the hell do you have to say about it anyway?” Conklin asked. “You just joined up with us. Hell, I been ridin’ with him for more than a year.”
“I’d like to ride with him for more than a year too,” Clark said. “But if we do something dumb like going out and spending all this money now, would be the same thing as wearing a sign around our necks that said, ‘We just robbed a stagecoach.'”
“What? Who would wear a sign like that?” Conklin asked, totally missing the point.
Dodd laughed out loud. “Conklin, you sure are one dumb son of a bitch, do you know that? I swear, it’s good to have Clark along if for no other reason than to have someone else smart to talk to.”
“Yeah, well, just remember who your real pard is,” Conklin said, glaring at Clark.
“We’re still pards, Conklin,” Dodd said. “As long as you do what I tell you to do. And I’m tellin’ you that we ain’t
