Rosser cursed and ran from the store, Fulton lagging behind and trying to keep up.

"Drop the bag," Rosser said through clenched teeth.

Fulton pulled it tight against his chest and hurried forward. They ran down the back alley, took a left, another left, crossed the main cobblestone street into an even smaller alley, and took a right. They dropped over a low wall into a garden of hard dirt. Rosser lifted a loose board and held it while Fulton ducked into the opening. They sat in a low ceilinged cellar and panted.

"Beechworth set us up."

"Looks that way."

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