On the table in the secret room sat a box. Davey stepped forward and opened it, revealing a Schofield revolver—a fine piece of craftsmanship.
He casually slipped it into his pocket.
In the game, one had to complete missions to unlock a second holster, but in reality, Davey could simply buy one.
As for the cash on the table, it looked like a decent haul at first glance, but most of it consisted of small bills—ones and fives—amounting to only a few dozen dollars.
Davey let John and Mac split the money.
Meanwhile, Dr. Ben Calloway was already following through with the plan.
After leaving the clinic, he went straight to the Valentine police station to report the O'Driscolls' crimes to Sheriff Malloy.
The gunfire had caused too much commotion to cover up.
By the time Davey and the others exited the secret room, Sheriff Malloy, his deputy, and over a dozen armed officers were already positioned at the entrance.
Davey didn't step out right away.
Only when Dr. Calloway shouted, "Sheriff Malloy! They're my friends—they helped me!"
did Davey finally emerge from the clinic.
He already had the Schofield drawn and ready.
The instant he stepped outside, he spotted the deputy lifting his gun—clearly intending to eliminate everyone and bury the evidence inside.
Bang!
The gunshot echoed—but it wasn't the deputy who fired.
Davey had shot the pistol clean out of his hand.
"Sheriff Malloy, what the hell is this? Are you planning to shoot the men who just took out criminals for you?"
Davey stepped back into cover as he spoke, his tone sharp.
A flicker of shock crossed Sheriff Malloy's face.
He'd been in law enforcement long enough to recognize the precision of that shot.
That was the work of a master gunslinger—the kind you didn't cross unless you had a death wish.
Forcing a confrontation now would only result in heavy casualties for the department—and possibly his own death.
"Sheriff Malloy! They're my friends, not criminals! You can't treat them like this!" Dr. Calloway shouted again, drawing a growing crowd of curious townsfolk.
Realizing he'd lost his chance, Malloy shot a furious glare at his deputy before barking,
"Everyone, stand down! Holster your weapons! The men inside aren't suspects!"
Then he raised his voice toward the clinic.
"My apologies, gentlemen. One of my officers was a little… jumpy."
Davey watched through the window until the officers lowered their guns, then calmly stepped outside again.
"Sheriff Malloy," he said coolly, "that's not a funny joke."
"My apologies, sir," Malloy replied, forcing a polite tone. "Still, we'll need you and your companions to come down to the station to make a statement."
"Of course," Davey said with an easy smile. "We'll be happy to cooperate."
The deputy shot him a venomous look—still fuming over having been tricked earlier—but he could do nothing now except lead his men inside to inspect the scene.
Davey, John, Mac, and Dr. Calloway followed Sheriff Malloy to the station.
The situation was already clear.
Dr. Calloway explained that the O'Driscoll Gang had been blackmailing him into illegal dealings, and that Davey and his men had helped free him from their threats.
Both the sheriff and his deputy—and most of the officers—understood exactly what that meant.
They also understood that Davey had just cost them a tidy source of income.
Still, there was nothing they could charge him with. Davey had done nothing illegal.
"I remember you, Davey," Sheriff Malloy said, irritation seeping into his tone. "The kid who came in for that bar fight a while back."
At that moment, the deputy reentered the room.
"Maybe I should arrest you for filing a false report," he sneered. "There was no fight at the Helton Inn."
That remark made the situation clear to Malloy—this whole thing had been a setup.
As the deputy gave him a subtle nod, the sheriff's expression softened noticeably.
Davey, however, cut in before the man could say more.
"Sheriff Malloy, perhaps we should talk privately… about business."
Malloy studied Davey's calm smile and suddenly remembered the last time they'd met—the twenty-dollar bribe.
He was starting to see where this was going.
"Alright," the sheriff said. "Come with me."
Davey gave a reassuring glance to Mac, John, and Dr. Calloway before following Malloy into his office.
Once the door shut behind them, the sheriff crossed his arms. "Alright, Davey. What do you want to talk about?"
Davey smiled.
"The O'Driscoll Gang has a bad reputation, Sheriff. They don't follow rules, and the townsfolk aren't exactly fond of them either."
"You don't need to work with them—it's more trouble than it's worth, and it could even tarnish your name."
"Whatever they can offer, I can offer more—and better."
He paused, then raised three fingers.
"Every month… this much."
Three hundred dollars.