America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 3 Nightmares

The gleaming grip of a revolver was visible, tucked into his waistband.

The wear marks on the gun handle, under the dim light, exuded a chilling murderous aura.

Tom also raised his hand very naturally, as if to straighten the back of his clothes. His fingers lightly brushed over the black holster of the pistol that had been seized on the train, which was then clearly exposed to the sheriff's view.

The father and son moved with perfect coordination, as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times. Without uttering a single wasted word, they instantly maximized their silent deterrent power!

The air in the cramped office suddenly seemed to freeze.

The sheriff's lazy expression vanished instantly, and a fine bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and his gaze swept quickly over the two calm yet sharp faces and the unfortunate prisoner on the ground.

"Uh... well... it's my duty to verify it!" The sheriff chuckled twice, grabbed the old-fashioned telephone receiver on the table, and frantically dialed the number on the wanted poster.

The faint sound of conversation came through the receiver.

A few minutes later, the sheriff hung up the phone, his expression completely changed.

"It's a misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!" The sheriff rubbed his hands together, his voice unusually enthusiastic. "It's confirmed! The person is right, and the bounty is confirmed! I'll write the slip right now, and you can collect it at the bank in town first thing tomorrow morning! Don't worry, you'll get every penny!"

That "heartwarming smile," set against the dim lighting and the tense atmosphere just moments before, seemed particularly glaring and ironic.

Looking at the note with three hundred dollars written on it, Tom turned around and respectfully handed it to Margaret, who had been waiting in the lobby for a long time.

"How can there be so many?" Margaret was surprised and couldn't help but feel a little worried.

"We still haven't gotten the person to New York. If we had gotten them there, we would have really gotten the thousand dollars," Tom said with some regret.

James glanced at Tom in surprise; Tom's behavior just now was completely different from when he left home.

"Alright, everyone's tired, let's go back to the hotel!" James made the decision.

.......

On the second floor of the Karln Hotel, the air was filled with dust and the smell of wood.

"Claire, you live here." James pushed open a door.

Claire peeked into the room, seemingly satisfied. "Mary Abel, come in." She pushed her daughter inside first, then turned to look at James.

Then the door slammed shut.

Facing the closed door, James shook his head: "Losing her husband didn't make her any gentler."

"Hmph," Margaret interjected, "even if you soaked her in milk for a month, she wouldn't become gentle."

James then opened the door to the next room. "Okay, Elsa, this is your room."

Elsa smiled sweetly at her father and stepped inside.

"Elsa, remember to go to bed early!" Margaret hurriedly reminded her.

"I will." Elsa didn't stop walking.

Margaret blocked the doorway, saying, "You should say yes, ma'am."

"I said I would."

"But you didn't say yes, ma'am."

"Women don't talk like that," Elsa said, making a move to close the door.

"Oh, so now you're a woman?" Margaret's voice rose.

"Isn't that right?" Elsa rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut.

Margaret stood frozen in place.

"Where is our room?" Tom asked, yawning, since it was almost late at night.

James opened the door across the hall. "This is your room."

John looked up at James. "Where are you?"

"next door!"

Tom nodded and pulled John into the room.

"Tom, take good care of John." Margaret snapped out of her reverie.

"Yes, ma'am!" Tom instantly put on a bright smile and nodded vigorously at Margaret.

Good night, everyone, have a wonderful evening!

After speaking, Tom gently closed the door.

Outside the door, Margaret and James looked at each other in bewilderment.

"He's really changed a lot!" James murmured with emotion.

Margaret took a deep breath. "Boys grow up so fast sometimes it catches you off guard."

Tom closed the door and glanced around the room: two beds, a bedside table, a wardrobe, and a chair—simple to the point of being rudimentary.

"Tom!" John stretched out his arm.

Tom quickly stripped his brother naked, tossed the clothes aside, and pulled the blanket over his head.

Goodnight, Tom!

Goodnight, John!

The snoring soon began.

late at night.

"Ah!" A piercing scream tore through the silence!

Tom sprang up instantly!

He silently opened the door and pounced on the opposite side like a cheetah!

The screams hadn't even subsided in Elsa's room.

She rushed toward the door in a panic, only to see Tom's figure sweep in like a whirlwind!

Inside the room, a strange, obese man staggered toward Elsa, reeking of alcohol.

Tom didn't hesitate for a moment! His figure darted forward like lightning, a cold glint flashing in his hand!

puff!

The short knife pierced the man's thick ribs with precision and ruthlessness!

The man's hazy, drunken eyes widened instantly!

Immediately afterwards, Tom gripped the handle with both hands and pressed down hard with all his might!

Pfft!

The blade pierced deep into flesh! Blood gushed out like a fountain, instantly staining the man's greasy shirt red!

Before he could even utter a sound, a gurgling sound came from his throat, his body stiffened abruptly, and then he collapsed like a sack whose bones had been removed.

His eyes were wide open, and he died with his eyes wide open, unable to close them in peace.

Tom gently laid the body down on the ground.

Her gaze swept over the man's feet, and her pupils contracted slightly. A pistol in a holster lay there quietly!

Wow, what great luck!

He was secretly pleased and quickly pulled out his gun belt and tied it around his waist.

Suddenly, a series of hurried and chaotic footsteps echoed down the corridor!

Without a second thought, Tom grabbed the pistol he had just acquired and pointed it at the door!

The dark muzzle of the gun collided with another equally cold gun barrel!

In the dim light of the corridor, Tom could see who it was: James Dutton, dressed only in pajamas, but whose eyes were colder than a gun barrel.

Upon recognizing his father, Tom lowered the gun without expression.

He bent down, grabbed the corpse by the collar with both hands, groaned, and dragged the heavy body out of the room, slamming it against the cold wall of the corridor.

Then, he squatted down as if no one else was around and began to skillfully "lick the bag".

All the pockets and soles of the shoes on the body were searched thoroughly.

"Poor bastard! He's nowhere near as good as the one on the train!" Tom scoffed.

Including the ten dollars hidden in the insole, the total was less than thirty dollars.

The only valuable thing was that Colt M1873 revolver.

Just then, James, who had been holding a gun and guarding the door, suddenly turned around and pointed the gun menacingly at the traveler peeking out at the end of the corridor!

"Go back!" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of an iron command.

Those who had been watching the commotion immediately shrank back, and the door slammed shut.

When James turned back, Tom had already sheathed the bloodstained dagger.

He glanced at his father, nodded slightly, and then turned and went back to his room.

Only James remained in the corridor.

He stared at the door where his son had disappeared, his eyes as deep as the night, remaining motionless for a long time.