"Give it here, boy," the leader spat, reaching for a revolver.
Arthur didn’t look at Hosea. He didn't have to. He stood up, the spurs on his boots giving a rhythmic clink-clink that seemed to silence the chatter of the town. He wasn't looking for a fight, but in 1899, the fight usually found you first.
"You're thinking too loud, Arthur," a voice rasped. Hosea Matthews leaned against a nearby post, peeling an apple with a knife that had seen more blood than fruit. Red Dead Redemption 2Data edycji: 13-03-2023, 1...
"That's enough," Arthur said, his hand hovering inches above the worn grip of his Cattleman Revolver. "The boy's done nothing to you."
"Just wondering if Dutch’s 'plan' involves us getting shot in the front or the back this time," Arthur replied, his voice a low rumble. "Give it here, boy," the leader spat, reaching
The O’Driscoll turned, a sneer twisting his face. "This ain't your business, friend."
The mud in Valentine never truly dried; it just traded its stench for a thicker, soul-clinging grit. Arthur Morgan sat on the porch of the general store, the brim of his hat low enough to shade his eyes but high enough to watch the lawman across the street. He stood up, the spurs on his boots
Suddenly, the swinging doors of the saloon burst open. A young man, barely old enough to shave, stumbled out into the street, clutching a satchel to his chest as if it held his own heart. Behind him, three men with the cruel eyes of O’Driscolls followed.