Over the next few days, Davey and his two companions didn't return to camp. Instead, they stayed behind to build the moonshine distillery.
John naturally stayed to help, and Davey wouldn't let him work for free.
The equipment and supplies ordered by Benedict and Wróbel would take some time to arrive.
In 1899, there were plenty of moonshiners across the frontier, but the trade wasn't particularly profitable.
Moonshine existed, but it wasn't especially popular, and federal authorities weren't yet cracking down hard on it.
Still, producing, selling, or transporting moonshine was an illegal business.
The true golden age of bootlegging wouldn't come until twenty years later, when Prohibition was enacted—banning the production, sale, and transport of any beverage with over five percent alcohol. Drinking itself, however, remained legal.
Even so, for Davey, moonshining was a lucrative opportunity—easy to start, and distillers weren't hard to find.
He had chosen Benedict specifically because, as a counterfeit medicine peddler, the man already had a basic understanding of chemistry.
Davey's goal was to create a blend of "science and spirit"—a refined, high-quality moonshine.
That required someone with real chemical knowledge, and in the West, finding such a person was harder than robbing a bank.
Benedict was the only viable choice.
A few days later, the distillery was nearly complete, and the equipment arrived by train.
At the same time, the 500 empty glass bottles Wróbel had ordered were also delivered.
Distilling the liquor wasn't hard; the real challenge lay in fine-tuning the taste.
That task fell to Benedict, who bought various flavorings to experiment with.
It would take several more days to adjust the flavor, distill the malt syrup and yeast, and perfect the recipe.
Meanwhile, Davey focused on expanding their sales channels.
His first target was Doctor Ben Calloway at the Valentine Clinic.
Once their moonshine hit the streets, the O'Driscoll Gang that operated in Valentine would inevitably notice—and conflict would follow.
So Davey planned to strike first.
"Mac, John, I've dug up some intel," Davey said.
"There's a hidden room behind the Valentine Clinic, controlled by the O'Driscoll Gang. They're working with the deputy sheriff, trafficking illegal drugs."
"We need to take them out."
Hearing that, John instinctively asked, "Davey, shouldn't we tell Sheriff Malloy about this?"
Davey chuckled. "John, Sheriff Malloy's been in Valentine for years. You think he doesn't know what his deputy's up to? He's just taking his share of the cut."
"That's why we need to move fast and settle this quietly—and for that, we'll need Doctor Calloway's cooperation."
"Benedict will handle that part."
That evening, Davey had Benedict invite Doctor Calloway to dinner.
In a private booth at an upscale restaurant, Davey and Benedict hosted him warmly.
It's worth noting that in the game's storyline from Davey's previous life, the "Little Devil" Calloway was actually this very doctor's brother.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Benedict, Mr. Callander. You really didn't need to go to such trouble," Doctor Calloway said pleasantly.
The fine food and red wine had clearly lifted his spirits.
By now, he was fairly acquainted with Davey, since Benedict's supply of medical alcohol came directly from his clinic.
"No need to be formal, Doctor Calloway," Davey said smoothly. "This is the least we can do. But about that medical alcohol—do you think you could supply us with a bit more?"
"The current amount just isn't enough. From what I hear, your clinic orders plenty of alcohol these days."
"Surely, Doctor, you wouldn't deny a friend, would you?"
Davey was dressed in the gentleman's suit he'd bought earlier, his tone polite but witty, carrying the easy confidence of a man of means.
Doctor Calloway took a sip of wine and gave a weary smile.
"Mr. Callander, it's not that I don't want to help. It's just... some of those supplies have been diverted for other purposes. There's nothing I can do about it."
Davey smiled faintly. "Doctor Calloway, what if I could take care of those 'other purposes' for you?"
Calloway froze, his expression shifting. "Mr. Callander... you know about them?"
Davey nodded calmly. "Of course I do. And I know you went to the sheriff's office, but it didn't do any good, did it?"
"In the end, you were threatened by a member of the O'Driscoll Gang named Donal."
"That letter—am I right, Doctor Calloway?"
The doctor was stunned. He hadn't imagined this man, Davey Callander, would know so much.
"Mr. Callander, if you already know, then why would you…" Calloway began cautiously.
Davey leaned back, completely composed. "Because, Doctor Calloway, if I know all this, that means I'm already certain of how this will end."
"Of course, I'll need your cooperation."