Next morning, we all meet at the restaurant next door to enjoy a big breakfast, since food will not be important when noon rolls around. Once fed, we settle on a bench fronting a hardware store, looking like any bunch of men taking it easy. What we’re really doing is quietly firming up details of the job.
At five of twelve, we fetch the horses, ride them easy to the bank, then dismount out front. We need not tie them as, being outlaws’ horses, they are trained to stand waiting. Wade, who has let his beard come in to appear rough, totes his parcel hiding the rifle into the bank. He’ll take up a spot at a writing table, make like he has something to do.
We come in a few minutes later, me alone, then Virgil and Harry together. I’m in line behind two customers when I glance at Wade, who nods
