Clara let out a string of rather unladylike curses, then blushed furiously when even the teller gave her a look. "Now what do we do? I didn't aim to get my face on a wanted poster for pocket change!"<br/><br/>"And what about mister Fred here? If we shoot him, the sheriff'll come running, leave him and we'll be running with empty pockets." Clara said, considering options. She leaned down and yanked the rag from Fred's mouth. "You got anything else stashed away in here?"<br/><br/>"Please ladies, I won't say a word, I swear! Don't kill me!" Fred begged, looking from one to the other.<br/><br/>Clara stared down at him, toying with her knife and wearing as hardened an expression as she could muster, "Not what I asked."<br/><br/>"Just the paynote and the gentleman who was in here before you cashed, and the hundred dollars he left, in my pocket. He got the last four thousand." Fred told them, a pleading look in his eye.<br/><br/>Clara stuffed the rage back in Fred's mouth and then rummaged through the man's pockets. Sure enough, there was a hundred and the cashed paynote. She looked over at the other two, thinking this whole bank robbing business had been the worst idea she'd ever thought up. "So what about him then?"