Then another.
Three attackers.
Evelyn grabbed a wooden rail.
"Caleb!"
The first man rushed him again.
Caleb stepped aside and drove an elbow into his ribs.
The man collapsed.
The second pulled a knife.
Caleb caught the wrist.
The blade sliced his coat and cut his side.
Pain flashed through him.
He twisted.
The knife dropped.
Caleb struck the man's jaw.
The attacker crashed into the dirt.
The third man froze.
Caleb looked at him.
"You can run."
The man did.
Evelyn stared at the blood on Caleb's coat.
"You're hurt."
"It's a scratch."
"It's bleeding."
"I noticed."
She almost laughed despite herself.
Then smoke appeared over the rooftops.
Black smoke.
Train smoke.
Caleb looked toward the depot.
"Let's go."
The railroad yard was alive with activity.
Workers moved crates.
Horses pulled wagons.
Men shouted instructions.
Steam rose from the locomotive.
But beneath the noise was something strange.
There were too many armed guards.
Too many locked crates.
Too many men watching the streets instead of the cargo.
Caleb and Evelyn hid behind a stack of timber.
"What do you think is inside?" she whispered.
"Something Pike doesn't want anyone to see."
"The ledger mentioned shipments."
"Then we may have found them."
Evelyn pulled the copied pages from beneath her coat.
She had kept them hidden all day.
Caleb looked at them.
"You brought them?"
"I never left them."
"Good."
She looked toward the depot.
"What happens now?"
Caleb studied the town.
"Now we stop running."
They returned to the main street.
By then, people had gathered.
Rumors had traveled quickly.
Evelyn climbed onto the steps of the sheriff's office.
Her father stood behind the window.
She could see him.
He could see her.
She held up one page.
"I found this inside my father's office."
The street became quiet.
She read the first name.
Then another.
Then another.
She read dates.
Amounts of money.
Property transfers.
Illegal arrests.
Bribes.
Disappearances.
Every word seemed to make the air heavier.
People began stepping closer.
A rancher named Thomas Bell recognized his own name.
He stepped forward.
"They told me my land was seized because I failed to pay taxes."
Evelyn held up the ledger.
"You paid them."
Thomas looked at Pike's warehouse across the street.
"I paid every cent."
Another man spoke.
"My brother disappeared two years ago."
Evelyn looked down at the pages.
She found his name.
Her voice shook.
"He's here."
The man stared at her.
"What?"
"His name is here."
Silence.
Then another person stepped forward.
And another.
The crowd began to change.
Fear was still there.
But something else was growing beneath it.
Anger.
Silas Pike arrived at the edge of the street.
He was surrounded by armed men.
Deputy Wade Harland stood beside him.
Pike looked at Evelyn.
"You've made a mistake."
She raised her chin.
"No."
Pike's eyes moved to Caleb.
"You brought him into this."
Caleb stood several yards away.
His hand rested near his revolver.
Pike smiled.
"You think one gun makes you a hero?"
"No."
Caleb looked at the crowd.
"One gun doesn't."
Then he looked back at Pike.
"People standing together might."
Pike laughed.
But the laugh sounded different now.
Less certain.
He glanced around.
Some of the townspeople had stopped looking at the ground.
They were looking at him.
One rancher stepped forward.
Then another.
Then a blacksmith.
Then the owner of the general store.
People who had spent years being silent were finally standing in the open.
Pike's expression darkened.
He reached for his revolver.
Caleb's hand moved.
Wade Harland drew first.