America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Chapter 261 The Golden Belt of Murder and Arson

After driving Huang Mao and his idiot followers out of the office, Dennis Carney was the only one left in the office.

After seeing everyone had left, he unlocked the drawer, took out two documents and threw them on the table.

He held his forehead with his hand and looked at the documents on the table.

One is a contact document sent by the California Gold Miners Union.

They are planning a full-scale strike action to win more pay and shorter working hours for the workers.

They hope that San Francisco can provide solidarity and support.

The other was a secret letter written to him by the chairman of the California Mining Federation, in which the conditions for buying him were stated openly.

Carney thought for a moment, tore up the secret letter and threw it into the trash can.

This is not because the leader of the California Workers' Party is a tough man who regards money as dirt.

It’s not that he thinks about his fellow workers wholeheartedly and only has righteousness in his heart.

But he knew that if he accepted bribes from the bosses in this way, a copy of the letter and evidence of his receipt of money would appear on the headlines of the newspaper the next day.

The prestige he has accumulated among workers by expelling Chinese workers and other actions will also be destroyed in one day.

At that time, I will be worthless.

What he cares more about is power!

From this point of view, the prices offered by those bosses are far from enough.

Rallies and solidarity are necessary, and speeches are also necessary. They just need new chips to make the bosses bleed.

Give him a reason and he can make California tremble.

Carney put the contact paperwork back in the drawer and left the office.

On the other side, at the edge of the pier, Chen Jianqiu waited all afternoon, but did not wait for Huang Mao who came to retaliate, and felt a little bored.

He took out his pocket watch and checked the time.

At five o'clock in the afternoon.

"Uncle Huang, I'm going back first. I should come back in two days. I'll leave you with the recruitment matter." Chen Jianqiu said goodbye to Huang Qingyun.

He rode a horse, left the "Chinese Workers Mutual Aid Association" and returned to the hotel in Chinatown.

Li Sifu came out to welcome him.

"Let everyone have dinner quickly. We have work in the evening." Chen Jianqiu ordered.

Li Sifu and Long Xiang's team had already rested in the hotel all afternoon, and they were so idle that their balls ached.

As soon as he heard that there was a job, he immediately became energetic, ran to everyone's room, and gave Chen Jianqiu's instructions.

Around eight o'clock in the evening, Chen Jianqiu knocked on the door of their room.

After gathering briefly in the lobby, they set off.

Unlike small western towns like Lincolnshire, San Francisco is a big city, and its streets at night are illuminated by exquisite cast-iron gas lamps.

However, in Chinatown, one cannot enjoy the blessings of light.

The street was pitch dark, with only the light shining from the windows of the low-rise houses along the street dotting the dark night of Chinatown.

Chen Jianqiu led the Long Xiang group to an abandoned courtyard.

The house in the courtyard was damaged by thugs' attack on Chinatown a few days ago, and the owner of the courtyard is missing.

Chen Jianqiu asked them to light the lantern.

"Change clothes." He said to everyone, and began to take out his saddle bag. "I brought it to you before setting off from Roswell."

After a while, their clothes were changed.

"Boss, I always feel that wearing clothes of the dead is a bit unlucky." Li Sifu took out a flattened soft bowler hat from his saddle bag and used his fist to push the top out of the hat.

"Very good, not bad." Chen Jianqiu glanced at him and adjusted the collar of his shirt, "Don't worry, it's all washed. Aunt He used to run a laundry in Denver."

In the blink of an eye, twenty or so people dressed as cowboys turned into gentlemen in suits and vests.

The only drawback is that their clothes are a little wrinkled.

Chen Jianqiu took out a square scarf from his pocket and covered his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

He took out another badge from his pocket.

This badge was cut from the chest of the shirt, with an open eye engraved on it.

He weighed the badge and put it back into his pocket.

"Set off!"

About twenty people got on their horses again.

They followed a path out of Chinatown, made a circle and went straight out of the city, then swaggered along the coastline towards the port.

There were not many pedestrians on the road at this time, and they paid attention to the horses passing by.

Under the dim street lights, they couldn't see the faces of the people on the horse clearly. They only saw the guns on their backs, and thought they were armed patrols watching the night.

At this moment, in the outer room of the port union's office, the lights were brightly lit.

A group of dock workers are gathering here.

Huang Mao put one foot on the chair, held two empty wine bottles, and gestured on the table.

First this, then this, then this.

He is arranging a "raid" on the Chinese Workers' Cooperation Association tonight.

"Boss, do you have a gun?" A thin man stretched his neck and looked at the two empty wine bottles on the table in confusion.

Huang Mao's arrangement was long-winded and unclear. He actually didn't quite understand it.

"Bring it, why don't you bring it?" said another worker with a wilder look. He exposed his shirt and scratched his chest hair. "Anyone who dares to block us can be shot."

Huang Mao thought for a moment and did not deny his proposal.

"Let me tell you, it's not that troublesome at all." A bearded man shook his head. He raised his neck and took a sip of beer. "He just rushed in, smashed it up, and then set it on fire. Let's see if they get out.

Get lost!"

"That's what I did the year before last, hahahahahaha" the chest hair worker laughed.

During the riots a few years ago, he was the first to rush into Chinatown, climbed onto the roof of a house, smashed a hole in the roof, and threw oil and torches into it.

"You know what? The people in those houses were burned and running around like rats, hahahaha!"

The others also laughed when they heard the description of the hairy-chested man.

This behavior allows them to find a kind of pleasure, which is like a carnival.

Strictly speaking, some of them had no idea what Dennis Carney was saying on the podium.

They just want to set fires and rob.

Just as the wild laughter of the workers echoed in the room.

"Bang!"

The door to the outer room of the office was kicked open.

About twenty masked men in suits and vests rushed in.

Each of them held a repeating rifle in his hand, and these guns were quickly pointed at every worker present.

The hairy-chested man was about to grab the gun next to him, but a masked man next to him knocked him to the ground with the butt of a gun. The other man quickly took out the dagger from his waist and pierced his heart.

See blood.

Just as the thin man was about to scream, he suffered the same fate, and the person who did it was extremely ruthless.

After all, he is the disciple of Chen Jianqiu'er Ti Mian Ming Cult.

No one else dared to move anymore. Each of them now had a gun barrel pressed against their head.

A man wearing a bowler hat walked in from the door.

His face was covered with a black cloth, and his eyes under the brim of his hat were shining with a cold light.

His boots made the floor creak.

Chen Jianqiu looked around:

"Just now, who said they were going to set a fire?"

First update, second update later

(End of chapter)