Some of the stitches on Tillis’ forehead had popped open. Pink-red blood ran down his face in the rain. His hair was plastered to his bare head. But he still managed to let out a chuckle of delight when he saw the bank bags piled under the rock where Orez and his two men had buried them. “And here we find it, lying in wait for us!” he said. “Just like we knew it would be!” Laughing, he shuffled his feet a little on the wet muddy ground. “Shhh, take it easy,” Jenny Lynn said in a lowered voice, trying to quiet him down. She looked around warily through the rain. Lightning flickered in the black sky. “Take it easy, hell!” said Tillis, still laughing. “It’s ours, and there is nothing or nobody going to take it away from us, Jenny. Do you hear me? Nothing or nobody!” he shouted on the hillside above the trail where the Trade City posse had found the body of Freeman Manning with his guns tied in his hands.
