Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 449 The elections in the United States of America are truly vibrant!

Protection? Yes, but if it's about "protecting" some important person and a conflict occurs with unidentified armed personnel, then the nature of the conflict is completely different!

Although the process was a bit brutal, the motive was good!

A misunderstanding? Yes! It's all a misunderstanding! Who gave you Pinkerton officers and marshals permission to barge in without identifying yourselves?
We thought they were either bandits or assassins hired by the other side in disguise!
Lionel's words instantly pointed out a seemingly viable way out for both sides who were in dire straits.

Lionel continued, “I am Arthur Morgan! May I come down and talk to you two? I promise I can resolve this problem!”

Mayor Greenwood and blacksmith Joe exchanged a glance, both seeing a strong "will to survive" in each other's eyes. Their hesitation lasted only a few seconds.

The mayor shouted, "Alright! Get down here!"

Old Joe quickly added, "We guarantee your safety!"

Lionel breathed a sigh of relief, gave Black Knight a wink, and the two of them walked down the rickety stairs one after the other.

Pinkerton detectives and federal marshals hiding in the stables also spotted Lionel.

They became excited, and the young detective even wanted to rush out to identify them, but just as he was about to speak...

Lionel snapped at him, "Shut up!"

Then, with a stern look, he swept his gaze over the disheveled group of law enforcement officers: "Why are you only arriving now? Look at the misunderstanding you've caused!"

"If you want to live, stay put and don't move! Follow my orders!"

The Pinkerton boss and the bailiff officer were taken aback for a moment, then understood Lionel's intention.

This is to give them, and the whole town, a way to save face.

Though clumsy, it might be their only way out. They immediately shut their mouths and retreated back into the stable.

Lionel straightened his wrinkled coat, trying to appear more composed.

He and Black Jazz walked through the tavern lobby riddled with bullet holes and debris, and onto the main street.

Mayor Greenwood and blacksmith Joe also emerged from behind their bunkers.

They were wary of each other, but both signaled to their men to raise their guns and not fire for the time being.

The three met in the center of the town, in the very spot that had just been a battlefield.

Lionel looked at the two prominent figures in front of him and smiled.

He spoke, his voice calm: "Mayor Greenwood, Mr. Joe, I know that everything you've done is to ensure that next week's election proceeds fairly and smoothly, isn't it?"

Neither the mayor nor Old Joe spoke; they stared intently at him.

Lionel's tone was very confident: "You all think the other side wants to harm me, you all think the other side sent people to sabotage the election, or even to hurt me."

Therefore, in order to protect my personal safety, both of you had no choice but to take, well, some overly aggressive defensive measures.

That's why this regrettable misunderstanding happened—am I right?

Every word he said was a stepping stone for the mayor and Old Joe to step down.

"Protecting important figures"—what a great reason!

"A misunderstanding led to a gunfight"—what a perfect explanation!
Before Lionel came downstairs, they only had one option: kill all the outsiders, give the higher-ups a story and a large sum of money.

But with so many deaths, such a huge impact, and a large number of people involved, it doesn't seem like it can be kept secret. In the end, both of them will probably have to hang themselves.

Now things are different. Lionel, the victim, has taken the initiative to declare that everything was a misunderstanding and is even willing to take responsibility...

Mayor Greenwood was the first to react, and a smile immediately spread across his face: "Yes, yes, Mr. Morgan, you're absolutely right! We were just worried about your safety!"

This town has been rather unsafe lately; all sorts of people are out there!

Not to be outdone, Old Joe the blacksmith quickly patted his chest and pledged his loyalty: "Yes, Mr. Morgan! The first thing we thought of when we saw the unknown people was to protect you!"
We absolutely cannot allow them to harm a federal official like you!

The two of them sang in unison, as if they weren't the ones who had just wanted to smash each other's brains out.

But they both understood that words alone were not enough.

Mayor Greenwood looked at Lionel and said cautiously, "Mr. Morgan, look at the mess we've made today...we've hurt some people from the Federation after all..."

I need a guarantee.

Old Joe quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, I need a guarantee too, after all, words are no proof!"

They need something in black and white, a verbal acknowledgment from this "big shot," and written proof that their actions today were "protection" rather than an "attack."

Without any hesitation, Lionel nodded readily: "Of course. I can draft and sign a document right now!"
This document will prove that everything that happened today was a misunderstanding caused by the need to protect me, which is regrettable but understandable.

If the higher-ups investigate, I will bear all the responsibility!

These words made the town mayor and Old Joe's eyes light up.

Greenwood pressed further, "In your capacity as a U.S. federal election oversight officer?" He needed final confirmation.

Lionel nodded solemnly: "In my capacity as the U.S. Federal Election Oversight Officer, Arthur Morgan!"

Old Joe pointed towards the stables: "And what about them?" He was referring to the federal marshals and Pinkerton detectives.

Lionel assured him without hesitation, "Don't worry, they will all listen to me and sign the documents as proof."

The mayor and Old Joe exchanged a glance, both seeing a sense of relief in each other's eyes.

Success! With this "supervisor" taking responsibility and this document in hand, we can definitely get through this hurdle!

Greenwood immediately shouted to his men, "Quick! Bring Mr. Morgan a table! And some paper and pens!"

Old Joe urged his men, "Go quickly!"

Soon, a table was dragged out of the tavern and placed in the middle of the street; someone brought a stack of letter paper, a quill pen, and half a bottle of ink.

Lionel didn't stand on ceremony; he went to the table, picked up a pen, and started writing. His thoughts were clear, his pen moved quickly, and his language was very official.

[I, Arthur Morgan, have been dispatched by the federal government to Nevada to oversee the local elections… I hereby confirm that Mayor Greenwood, Mr. Joe, and their supporters acted with great courage in this matter, and their initial intention to protect federal officials deserves recognition…]

After finishing writing, he solemnly signed his name "Arthur Morgan" at the end, in beautiful cursive script; then he waved to the stables.

The Pinkerton boss and the bailiff officers came over, took the documents, looked at them, and then exchanged glances.

The Pinkerton leader said curtly, "Indeed... it was a misunderstanding," and then signed his name on the document.

The federal marshals chief added, "Our arrival was inappropriate and caused unnecessary panic." He also signed the document.

Mayor Greenwood and Old Joe eagerly took the document, huddled together, and read it over and over again, scrutinizing every word, as if afraid there might be a trap inside.

After confirming that everything was correct, the two breathed a long sigh of relief, their faces beaming with smiles of relief.

Greenwood folded the document, tucked it into his pocket, and then gave Lionel a look of heartfelt gratitude: "Mr. Morgan, thank you so much!"
You are truly a person of great wisdom and understanding! I never expected you to be like this…

Before he could finish speaking, a rapid sound of horses' hooves came from outside the town, growing louder as it approached!
Dust billowed as more than thirty riders, all dressed in dark coats and wide-brimmed hats, surged toward Fengxi Town like a black torrent!

Leading the group was none other than William Pinkerton himself, the head of Pinkerton West! He brought his most elite men.

The mayor and Old Joe's faces turned deathly pale again, and their hearts, which had just been at ease, jumped into their throats once more.

The Pinkerton leader, hiding behind Lionel, explained quickly in a low voice: "We have a rule that when you arrive in a town, you must go to the post office to send a telegram to let them know you are safe."

If there's no news after a certain time, it means something's happened—Mr. William has brought reinforcements.

After listening, Lionel waved to the panicked mayor and old Joe and said calmly, "Don't worry, leave it to me, it's all a misunderstanding!"

Then he raised his hands to greet the Pinkerton detectives and soon stood before William Pinkerton.

William Pinkerton stared in astonishment at the sudden appearance of Lionel, quickly dismounting: "Mr. Sorel..."

The mayor and Old Joe, seeing Lionel gesturing and talking animatedly with the other leader, who occasionally turned back to smile at them, immediately felt relieved.

……

Twenty minutes later, both sides in Windbreak Town were disarmed, and Pinkerton detectives had occupied all the high points and key terrain in the town.

Crucially, Pinkerton detectives in dark coats kept arriving, along with uniformed federal marshals and even journalists.

The mayor and Old Joe were also completely under control. Although they weren't yet in shackles, they knew that Lionel's promises had not been kept at all.

Mayor Amos Greenwood hurriedly pulled the newly signed document from his pocket, his voice shrill: "Mr. Pinkerton! Mr. Pinkerton! It's all a misunderstanding!"
It's a misunderstanding to protect Mr. Morgan! Look, this is a document personally signed by Mr. Morgan! And your people have signed it as proof!

As he spoke, he almost presented the document to William Pinkerton as if it were a precious treasure.

William Pinkerton took the paper expressionlessly, his eyes quickly scanning it.

When he saw the signature at the bottom, he scoffed, "Arthur Morgan? Who's that?"

He chuckled, looked up, and tossed the document back into the mayor's arms: "You can take this to court; maybe it'll loosen the noose!"

Mayor Greenwood stared in disbelief, as if struck by lightning. That was a document signed by a federal law enforcement officer, how could it be like a piece of waste paper?
He turned and pointed at Lionel: "You...you...who exactly are you?!"

Lionel glanced at the ashen-faced mayor and old Joe, calmly changed into a clean and presentable coat handed to him by the Pinkerton detective, and put on a French top hat.

He looked at the two men calmly and said his identity in a low voice: "You ask who I am? My surname is Sorel, my given name is Lionel, an honest... citizen of the French Republic, an outstanding graduate of the Sorbonne University in 1880, a contracted writer and artistic advisor for the Comédie-Française, chief writer for Le Parisien and La Moderne, a contributing writer for The Good Words magazine; and a member of a delegation to the United States invited by the U.S. State Department and the French Embassy in the United States for an exchange visit!"

This series of names completely baffled Mayor Greenwood and Old Joe the blacksmith. Although they couldn't understand a word of it, they at least grasped one thing:
The young man in front of me wasn't some damn "Federal Election Oversight Officer Arthur Morgan" at all; he was a damn Frenchman!
That "protection certificate" had no legal effect whatsoever; it was a complete joke! The two men went limp, and Old Joe even wet his pants.

Just then, William Pinkerton noticed a furtive figure who had been trying to hide behind the crowd.

William Pinkerton strode over and grabbed the man's arm: "'Black Knight'! I've got you!"

Black Knight froze, his face turning deathly pale. He stared at Lionel and stammered, "Mr. Sorel, you...I..."

Lionel walked over: "Mr. Pinkerton, you've mistaken me for someone else."

William Pinkerton frowned.

Lionel pointed to the Black Knight: “He’s not the Black Knight. He’s the kind man who saved me from the ‘Black Knight,’ Mr. Charles Bolton.”

William Pinkerton's gaze swept back and forth between Lionel and Bolton's faces; he trusted his own judgment more than Lionel's explanation.

Lionel met his gaze and said frankly, "Yes, Mr. Bolton is a good man. Do you need me to write a statement?"

William Pinkerton was silent for a moment, then released the Black Knight's hand and smiled: "I misunderstood, Mr. Bolton. You may leave at any time."

Black Knight breathed a sigh of relief, took off his hat, and bowed to Lionel and William Pinkerton.

Then he straightened up: "Now that Mr. Sorel is safe, my mission is complete."

Lionel nodded and pulled a stack of papers from his pocket: "Don't worry, I always keep my word."

Black Knight bowed gratefully to Lionel again, then hurriedly left, neither the Pinkerton detectives nor the federal marshals stopping him.

From then on, the notorious thief known as "Black Jazz" who roamed the West disappeared without a trace and never committed another crime.

Meanwhile, the West gained a new "gangster poet," Charles Bolton, known for his simple rhetoric and straightforward language.

His first collection of poems, "My Rules Are Rules," sold well upon its release and was even published in French.

The great writer Lionel Sorel praised his poems as pioneering "spoken poetry" and a milestone in the history of poetry!

Once everything settled down, the reporters immediately surrounded Lionel.

Lionel smiled and shared his impressions of the past few days: "The election in the United States is truly vibrant!"

(Two chapters finished, please vote with monthly tickets)
　Yes, the scene where Lionel identifies himself was inspired by "Kangxi's Private Visits" and "Detective Dee".

　　I wanted to write Lionel and shout: "Where are Maupassant and Huysmann?!"

　　Maupassant and Huysmann tumbled in, carrying Lionel's coat and hat...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)