Dan takes Butterfield by the shoulder and sits him down next to the coach, with a hard shove.

"We need to talk."

bang

The dirt puffs up a few yards away, but they're getting closer.

"After we're done killin' all your Pinkertons," he adds, cheerfully. "So you just sit tight, and we'll continue this in a minute. Got it?"

A beat.

"Try and run and I'll make sure you never run again," he tacks on, before he brings the rifle up to sight the approaching riders that come around the bend.

The dust makes it hard to count.

Dan doesn't need a headcount to squeeze the trigger and send a rider tumbling from his horse.

bang