America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Leland Stanford, the first governor of California, founder of Stanford University, and founder and majority shareholder of the Central Pacific Railroad.

At this time, he had been a federal senator for more than a year.

However, a year ago, his 15-year-old only son, Stanford, died of typhoid fever.

Old Stanford was immersed in the grief of losing his son in old age all day long, and basically ignored the affairs of the railway company.

But the successive strikes have left the company's managers in a state of distress.

Especially after receiving the telegram from Shiquan Town.

It was also the first time they encountered a joint strike by Chinese and white workers.

After discussing for a long time, the management still did not dare to make decisions without authorization.

In the end, it was up to Stanford to make the decision.

Stanford's mansion is located on "Nobles Hill" overlooking the bay. From here, you can see a panoramic view of the entire bay area.

Stanford muttered until he couldn't speak anymore.

He said carefully.

"You can handle it yourself, I'm tired." Stanford's mind wandered again, he looked at the bay again, and stopped answering.

"If Chinese workers and white workers join forces, our people in the mine will be in danger."

Mr. Stanford seemed not to have heard the butler's words and remained sitting there motionless.

“It’s perfect to hand over our business to him.”

"So when do we start working?" Riley asked eagerly.

The assistant buried the smile again and said seriously:

Is this a punishment from God, which sent him from a white-haired man to a black-haired man, causing him to lose his only descendant?

He had been very frightened this week. He dreamed of Chinese workers rushing in fiercely with guns and putting them to his head. Then they yelled at him in a language he didn't understand, and then slapped him in turn.

At the door of the mansion, Mr. Weber, the general manager of the housekeeping company, said.

According to the original practice, this kind of matter would usually be handled by the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Buried under every sleeper on the Pacific Railway are the bones of Chinese workers.

"The master is not in a good mood this morning. Remember, you must not mention his son!"

Riley shook his head hurriedly:

"No, no, there's no need to play it so big. Don't do it unless you have to."

"Oh?" Weber immediately sat up straight from his chair when he heard that there was something going on, "Which detective agency?"

The butler's expression was indifferent, which roughly means:

"Mr. Stanford, the sea breeze is too strong, you should pay attention to your health."

Until a year ago, he lost his only son.

They got off the train and went straight to the coal mine in Shiquan Town.

"What's the matter? Manager?" Seeing Weber's frown, the assistant asked from the side.

Mr. Stanford, who had white hair and beard, sat there alone, blowing the sea breeze and looking at the sea under the hazy sky.

When the assistant heard what Weber said, a smile appeared on his face.

He looked at the butler standing at the entrance to the terrace.

Without these Chinese workers, there would be no railroad that runs through the east and west of the United States today.

"Manager, I know there is a detective agency in California that can handle this matter. Their ability is no worse than Pinkerton's."

This is a situation statement compiled by management based on information from all aspects.

The black people and fishermen on the river did not make things difficult for them and ferried them over politely.

"What's matter?"

Stanford put the document on his knees, put his hand on his forehead, and read through it.

They are hard-working, able to endure hardships, and are honest and obedient.

It's just that a "small" shipping fee was charged.

Weber cleared his throat, slightly amplified his voice, and said.

Seeing that Hanif was silent, Riley whispered:

Among the capitalists on the West Coast, he was the first and most supportive of hiring Chinese workers.

"I've been waiting for you!" Riley ran down the hillside, came to Hanif, and held his hand tightly.

Let Wyoming's private investigators deal with those damn workers, and you'll get twice the result with half the effort!

More than a week later, Hanif appeared at the train station in Carbon County with dozens of detectives from the Border Detective Agency.

It's your own fault, just stand there and wait.

Work was stopped over there, and these people had nothing to do, so they came to join Riley and the others.

"The old man doesn't want the army to get involved and wants private detectives to handle this matter." Weber rubbed his face with his hands, "But the Pinkerton gang has disappeared, so why should I go to Austin?"

Go and invite them?"

"Don't worry! As long as I'm here, you'll be safe!" Hanif took his hand out of Riley's hand and stroked his beard.

He covered his eyes with his hands, as if crying, but there were no tears:

Stanford then turned his head as if waking up from a dream.

The butler winked at Weber.

Hanif was thoughtful and said nothing.

Riley and the overseer stood on the hillside from a distance and stretched their necks to watch.

Stanford did not treat these workers from across the ocean equally.

The old man's expression became painful.

He is very indifferent to these lives.

Where can I find a private detective organization of comparable size and quality?

Weber was very embarrassed.

Now there are a few more people around them, all of whom are managers of Well No. 6.

the reason is simple.

"So, which detective agency to hire?" Weber asked.

Weber saw the assistant's smiling face through his fingers and was very dissatisfied:

"Why are you laughing? Is this happy for you?"

The old man's attitude towards Chinese workers is extremely complicated.

The butler said softly.

He let out a long sigh.

But now Pinkerton Detective Agency has withdrawn from California and even the entire West Coast.

Later, Weber was taken to the terrace on the second floor.

"Our suggestion is to contact the governor of Wyoming Territory immediately to see if they can send militiamen there."

"Huh? You mean, that thing?" Hanif looked at Riley with a playful look in his eyes.

In Chinese terms, this is a kind of retribution.

Weber stepped forward and handed a document into Stanford's hand.

The old man fell into his own sorrow again.

During this time, the old Stanford has been reflecting.

After returning to the office, Weber was very sad.

"Oh, my child, my poor child"

After being blown away by the sea breeze for more than half an hour, Weber finally waited until Stanford spoke again:

"Let's find a detective agency to resolve this matter. Don't make it too big a fuss."

"That's it." Weber clapped his hands suddenly.

The assistant said.

He made a head-cutting gesture.

He looked very haggard.

"Sir, Mr. Weber is here."

Seeing that he couldn't get a reply from the old man, Weber had no choice but to retreat.

"Oh, Shiquan Town, when the coal mine there opened, I took little Stanford to unveil the sign. At that time, he had just learned to walk and I had to hold him up!"

"The Border Detective Agency has emerged in the past two years. It has been doing some armed escort business before. It has a very good reputation. The boss is a Wyoming man with a curly beard. It is said that he was an experienced bounty hunter in the past."

He never expected that this would also bring back the old man's memories.

When his eyes swept to "Shiquan Town", he stopped.

"If it really comes to that, it's not impossible, but we can't make too much of a fuss."

He is very satisfied with Hanif.

This person was very knowledgeable at first sight and grasped the key to the problem as soon as he arrived.

Although the attack is a bit harsh.

But in his opinion, in this situation, how can we turn things around without being more ruthless?