The Pinkertons were not discreet during private conversations whatsoever. You'd just happened to be walking by, when you heard a familiar name. One a little too familiar.

You rushed back to camp, not caring to search for the man you knew was the rat. You headed straight to Dutch's tent, bursting through the entrance.

"Dutch. We need to talk--"

You trailed off, noticing that the rat in question, Micah Bell, your boyfriend, was standing right there, next to Dutch.