Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 30: The Mayor, Councilor, Sheriff, and Everyone Hanging Streetlights Together
Another Pinkerton detective wanted to retaliate.

Finnian's knee strike sent him tumbling backward.

Then his head was forced down, and his throat was slit with a knife.

Too cruel!

These bastards even dared to kill Pinkerton detectives.

The councilors, mayor, and sheriff Barnes were horrified when they saw this.

He was then dragged out from under the table by the thugs.

Finnian walked over.

A cold gun barrel was roughly shoved into Barnes' mouth.

"Sheriff."

"I heard you were quite upset that we hadn't visited your town before? Now that we're here, are you satisfied?"

Barnes' pupils contracted sharply.

He only said that to Jack.

damn it!
It seems his judgment was correct; that guy was indeed connected to this group of robbers.

He was anxious to say something.

"boom!"

He was met with a swift, powerful blow from the butt of a rifle.

Barnes screamed as his teeth, mixed with blood and foam, were shoved back into his throat, choking him until his eyes rolled back.

Finnian roared, "Tie these rubbish up and drag them into the street!"

On the main road of Strawberry Town.

The mayor, councilors, and Sheriff Barnes were all dragged to the town square with their hands tied behind their backs with thick hemp rope, like pigs waiting to be slaughtered.

Along the streets, town residents peered in horror through cracks in doors and behind curtains at the scene.

Scarface Finnian roared at the entire town.

"You bunch of fat, white pigs! You all better listen up!"

"Open your dog eyes and look! We are Irish heroes!"
You bunch of bastards, do you think we Irish people were born to dig ditches and build roads for you, to be your beasts of burden?
FUCK YOU!

We were born noble, with royal blood flowing in our veins! We're not here to be laborers for you Americans!

He spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the ground and continued to curse with vicious language.

"You have three days! Get me fifty thousand silver dollars by then! If I don't see the money by three days..."

He glared menacingly at the closed doors and windows: "I'll set this town on fire and burn it to the ground! I'll skin you all alive and make boots out of your skin!"

"To show my sincerity, I'll perform a show for you first!"

Finnian suddenly waved his hand.

"Hang up these pigs!"

Several suicide bombers immediately threw the other end of the rope onto the gas lampposts on both sides of the street.

Amidst a series of piercing sobs choked in his throat.

The councilors, mayor, and sheriff of Strawberry Town were left hanging in mid-air.

Their bodies convulsed and swayed helplessly in the air.

Like an eerie wind chime.

The town's residents were terrified, and many women and children screamed in terror.

Finnian looked at his masterpiece and burst into wild laughter.

"Since we're here, we can't leave empty-handed!"

"Brothers! Come with me to rob a bank!"

The small bank in town was no match for them.

The assassins used the most violent method, blowing open the door with explosives and stealing all the cash from the vault.

Not much, only a little over five thousand US dollars.

After leaving behind a scene of devastation and several corpses swaying in the wind.

The wolf pack howled and fled.

In this battle, only three of Lawson's assassins were grazed by Pinkerton detectives' bullets during the assault on the building.

None of the others were killed.

Of the more than five thousand dollars in spoils, Lawson kept four thousand.

The remaining thousand was left for the wolf pack's daily expenses.

After the sound of the bandits' horses' hooves faded into the distance.

Only then did the townspeople dare to emerge cautiously from their hiding places.

They looked up at the corpses swaying in the wind, each one at a loss.

Panic spread among the crowd.

"They killed the mayor! They killed everyone!"

"Damn Irishmen!"

"Quickly! Send someone to Malin County to get reinforcements!"

"What's the use of calling for reinforcements? They'll be back in three days! Fifty thousand yuan! Where are we going to get that much money?"

"Aren't we going to raise money for them? He's going to massacre everyone here!"

The entire town descended into chaos.

Without a leader, they are like a swarm of headless flies.

Just then, several tall, white young men stepped out from the crowd.

The leader stood by the fountain in the square and shouted in a clear and powerful voice.

"Everyone, please be quiet! Don't panic!"

Everyone's attention was drawn to it.

“I have a suggestion…”

at the same time.

At Mrs. Marlene's farm.

Lawson sat in a rocking chair on the porch, holding a cup of hot coffee.

He gently shook his head.

The original plan was to proceed slowly.

He has plenty of civilized ways to take control of Strawberry Town.

His British-American henchmen were all law-abiding American citizens who held the power to vote.

They used money to pave the way, supplemented by bribery, incitement, and coercion.

It wouldn't be difficult to promote his people to positions such as councilor, mayor, or even sheriff.

Political games require patience.

But the arrival of the Pinkerton Detective Agency disrupted his rhythm.

Those hounds with their keen sense of smell will disrupt his plans.

His development time is extremely valuable.

This is related to whether he can have the power to change the rules before the storm of the Chinese Exclusion Act arrives.

Therefore, he could only use the most direct and brutal method to quickly resolve the mess.

Just like now, wipe all the obstructing elements off the board at once.

It looks much cleaner now.

A slight smile curved the corners of Lawson's lips.

After the Strawberry Town tragedy, it's unlikely that anyone will dare to run for the next mayor or councilor in the short term.

These positions went from being respected and decent jobs overnight.

It has become a high-risk profession where one could be hanged from a streetlamp at any moment.

When everyone was avoiding these positions like the plague.

His "righteous" henchmen, following the "will of the people," stepped forward to take over this mess.

Everything fell into place.

As for killing those three Pinkerton detectives...

That "eye that never closes" will never give up.

Lawson could already imagine the furious reactions of the bigwigs at Pinkerton headquarters when they heard the news.

He needs to be prepared for their furious retaliation.

However, their revenge will begin with finding the right person.

The perpetrators were a "ruthless Irish gang".

If you're angry or upset, just vent it on those nasty Irishmen in California.

Lawson picked up his coffee and took a sip.

Close to evening.

After verifying the situation in Strawberry Town, the police chief of Malin County and his team did not dare to linger and quickly returned to the county.

Urgent telegrams were sent out from Malin County like snowflakes.

Fly to San Francisco, fly to Sacramento, fly further east to Chicago.

The situation in Malin County and even several surrounding counties was thrown into chaos.

Lawson, the one who started all of this, remained completely unaffected.

Enjoying a leisurely afternoon tea.

It’s time to eat, it’s time to drink.

Chicago, headquarters of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

The room was filled with smoke, with deer head specimens and Winchester Memorial Rifles hanging on the walls.

"Three agents were slaughtered like pigs by a group of Irish bandits in a godforsaken town, and then hung on a street lamp like cured meat."

The firm’s founder, Alan Pinkerton, read the telegram aloud with a blank expression.

Every senior executive present felt a chill.

The boss is angry.

"This is a shame!"

A portly director slammed his fist on the table: "This is blatant provocation! It's the most vicious insult to the name Pinkerton!"

Another high-ranking official lit a cigar, his eyes sinister: "Gentlemen, calm down. According to Graves' previous report, those guys are just a bunch of Irish scum who couldn't make it on the railroad construction site. They may be fierce, but they're ultimately a bunch of brainless barbarians. They just got lucky this time."

"Yes."

Others chimed in: "A bunch of rabble, not worth our trouble. Our enemies in Pinkerton are notorious thieves like Jesse James, and union leaders who are trying to overthrow the national order. It would be a waste to mobilize our best forces for a bunch of Irish drunkards."

Most high-ranking officials are inherently arrogant.

They didn't take this suddenly appearing gang seriously at all.

Alan Pinkerton listened to his subordinates' discussion for a long time before slowly speaking.

"Reputation is the foundation of our profession."

“When others no longer fear that ‘eye that never closes,’ we will be close to closing the door. Whoever the enemy is, anyone who dares to provoke Pinkerton must be wiped off the face of the earth.”

He looked at the manager in charge of West Coast operations.

"Isn't there a payroll train from the Southern Pacific Railroad that's heading to California?"

"Yes, Boss. The 'Wolverine' task force will be responsible for escorting them; the original plan was for thirty people."

"not enough."

Pinkerton shook his head: "Add thirty more. Make a full-strength squad of sixty. I don't care what methods they use, whether they dig three feet into the ground or let blood flow like a river, I want to see the heads of those Irish bastards hanging on the docks of San Francisco within a month."

(End of this chapter)