John wasn't exactly happy that they had to pause their little pleasant lives for this absolute bullshit, but at least they had a head's up. Riding through town, they got no looks - John got a couple greetings, which he nodded in response. Luckily, Abigail's work wasn't through the main road of town, so he didn't have to worry about her knowing that they were on their way out to do something about the situation, at least until she got back home.

Home wasn't going to be ruined by the likes of Colm and his funny little band of trash. He wouldn't have it.

Though Arthur's words did, in their way, comfort him. "Easy as ever," he sarcastically remarked, picking up the pace of Peggy's trot to a gallop once they cleared the town. "They said they was down this way, doin' what they do." And, even putting aside the bitter blood between their gang and the O'Driscolls, John found their band far sloppier, far more reckless than anyone in their gang, past or present. Even Bill had more decorum and presence of mind than these madmen.

It didn't take very long until John slowed Peggy down to a standstill, seeing a stopped coach before them in the distance on the road and heard a gunshot. He reached over and pulled out his binoculars, getting a better view.

Flashes of green in the clothes gave them away. "That's them all right. Whaddya think? Let 'em break off from the coach n'catch 'em on their ways back to camp?"