“He was fixin’ to shoot Blue,” Trip replied as he casually replaced the three spent cartridges.

“You damn fool,” Booth said. “He wouldn’t have shot that gun. Blue’s too damn drunk to get up from that chair. Now we got ourselves into another mess.”

“Least we’re gonna save ourselves a lot of money we spent here tonight,” Jesse said, seemingly not that concerned about the murder of Grover and his wife.

Rapidly sobering up at this turn of events, Booth got to his feet. “All right,” he ordered. “Let’s drag them outta here in case somebody happens by. We can put ’em in the storeroom.” They did as he instructed, dragging the bodies out of the saloon, although no one really thought there was much chance of anybody else showing up at the trading post at this late hour. When Jesse said as much to his brother, Booth had to admit that he was probably right. They talked about the best thing to do, since it was now pretty late to think about saddling the horses and starting out to find a place to camp.

“Everything we need is right here,” Jesse said. “We might as well stay here tonight and leave in the mornin’. Ain’t nobody liable to turn up here before we leave. We can take what we need and burn the rest. Hell, Booth, this turned out to be a gold mine, and just like the Quaker business, we’ll leave no witnesses.”

At the time, Booth had thought it over for a few moments but couldn’t come up with any reason not to do as Jesse advised, now that the killing was already done. “All right,” he agreed. “Let’s get all the ammunition and supplies we can carry ready to pack up in the mornin’. And let’s see if we can find where Grover’s secret hiding place for his money is.” With that decision, the two brothers roused their companions out of their drunken states to help with the robbing of the trading post. All but Tater sobered up enough to help. Even after Blue kicked Tater’s chair out from under him, he hung on the table by his arms until finally dropping to his knees to then roll over on his side, where he slept till morning.