"You know, that doesn't do much to convince a man that was sure that he was hallucinating that he's not." Arthur hunched his shoulders over and began to heave coughs again. He had removed his had and covered his mouth with it. Cure or no he wasn't risking anyone else getting TB. Once that round was over, he glanced up at John. "I'm not a dumb man, but half the shit you said went over my head. As far as Micah, and Dutch getting me, well, I have a few bullets in a gun that have their name on them. Especially that Rat Micah." And he knew he'd die trying to finish off all the Pinkertons.
"What the hell is a space station? And where can I get my hands on the treatment?" He needed more than a moment. He could use a good nights sleep, that he hadn't had since their return from Guarma, but he forced his legs to work, forcing them under himself again.