“Hey!” Arthur barked, struggling against his binds. “Damnit, let me- mmfff!”

Arthur’s yapping meant his speaking privileges were quickly revoked by his captor. That didn’t mean that he didn’t stop thrashing around, though.

How ironic it was — to be taken by a bounty hunter as he was bounty hunting himself. He’d been so wrapped up in not being caught and not being seen by his score that he hadn’t even heard the twig snap, or the quick scuffle as his captor pulled rope out from behind them. This damn hunter was an amateur at best; had Arthur been paying attention, there was no way in hell that he would’ve been caught!

This is what I get, I guess. Arthur thought to himself bitterly as he tried his damnedest to get out of the rough, scratchy rope around his wrists and legs that held him firmly in place. He was being roughly jostled about as he was dragged across the ground towards a horse that wasn’t his.

If he didn’t get out of this soon, he’d be looking at the other end of a cell. He could already hear Micah’s mocking laughter in his ears for having been caught as a result of his carelessness.

“Mmmph! Grphmph!” Arthur was very displeased about the whole thing, and made it known. It wasn’t very effective; his gag meant he could only make a few grunts and muffled grumbles, which earned him a sharp strike to his temple. Christ! They hit hard! He felt dizzy just from that jab alone!

Arthur was quickly stowed on a horse, secured, then hauled off. Presumably to the nearest town to collect on the bounty on his head. Damn Pinkertons. Puttin’ my face everywhere.

Ever since Agent Milton kindly informed him of the five thousand dollar bounty on his head, Arthur had barely a moment of peace. Bounty hunters all over the damn state were after him right now. He really should’ve been more careful. Well, that, and he shouldn’t have been so close to Valentine.

For now, Arthur seethed quietly on the back of his captor’s horse until he could find a suitable opening to make his escape.