Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 84 Lawson's New Goal
The reporters below the stage were frantically taking notes.

Buck's confidence was so infectious that the townspeople began to cheer, and their fear seemed to have truly been dispelled.

"Lieutenant, you're awesome!"

"Kill all those Irish scum!"

Amid the noisy crowd, only Sheriff Thompson looked worried.

He pushed through the crowd and came to stand beside a few young reporters.

"Listen, you boys."

Thompson lowered his voice to a whisper: "Don't fucking believe his bullshit."

“Buck knows nothing, he’s never seen those devils!”

"That lieutenant, he'll kill us all!"

"what?"

The young reporter was stunned, not quite understanding what this person was talking about.

"listen to me!"

Thompson gripped the reporter's arm tightly: "Once! I mean once! When gunfire erupts in town, don't fucking run with the crowd! Don't go looking for those militiamen!"

"At that time, you..."

He pointed to the towering spire in the center of town: "Get inside the San Mateo Church immediately. It's the only stone building in town, and it was reinforced this spring. Lock the doors, hide in the cellar, and pray that God will protect you."

"Sir Sheriff."

The young man couldn't help but laugh out loud. He glanced at Buck, who looked like he had already won a battle, not far away: "We believe in the lieutenant's abilities. More than five hundred guns, and a Gatling gun too."

"Yes."

Another reporter joked, "Don't be the first to retreat like you were in Strawberry, Mr. Thompson. We're counting on you to take us some exclusive photos of the gangsters getting their heads blown off."

"Coward!"

A reporter from another newspaper muttered something under his breath.

Thompson's face darkened, and he abruptly released his grip.

He had kindly reminded them, and these bastards actually humiliated him in public!

So be it, let the dying do as they please!

"FUCK YOU!"

He gritted his teeth and squeezed out a few words, then turned and silently joined the training team.

……

In the apple orchards of Lawson, a bustling scene of harvest has already unfolded.

The orchards, spanning over 1,800 acres, have entered the harvest season.

The newly recruited Chinese laborers, under the leadership of their supervisors, were working with unprecedented efficiency.

Crates of apples, neatly stacked, were loaded onto horse-drawn carriages and transported to the Sausalito port in the south.

But a small problem arose.

The steward, Asen, sent a message back from Sousalito.

"Boss, our goods have been put on hold."

"The terminal manager said that the ferry business is too busy and our order will be delayed for half a month before it can be shipped to San Francisco."

Half a month?
Lawson knew very well that the purchase price of fruit in the San Francisco market changed every day.

If these apples stay on the dock for even one more day, it's like throwing silver dollars into the sea.

"Busy?"

Lawson sneered.

This was nothing more than the most blatant form of extortion in the 19th century.

"Then give him thirty silver dollars."

Twenty minutes later, a new message came back.

"Boss, it's all settled! That white pig took the money, and our goods are scheduled for the first ferry tomorrow."

Although it was a very minor incident, it gave Lawson a new idea.

It seems he overlooked an extremely important point.

The Sausalito Pier in 1878 was more than just a pier.

Rather, it is the true king of cash, the lifeblood of Northern California.

Goods from Sonoma, Napa, and even further north—timber, wine, apples, wheat—must pass through here to reach San Francisco, the largest consumer market and financial center on the West Coast.

The Southern Pacific Railway, that giant octopus, had its tracks laid in Marin County. Even there, train cars had to be loaded onto ferries here to be transported across the Kinmen Strait!
Whoever controls the Sausalito port controls the economic lifeline of Northern California.

The thought of this made Lawson a little excited.

Wait, he remembered!

It's 1878 now.

At this time, the Southern Pacific Railroad had not yet extended its reach to this dock.

This dock, and the rail line that connects it to the heart of Northern California, now belongs to another company!
A company called the Northern Pacific Coast Railroad (NPC)!

It wasn't until 1907, thirty years later, that the company was acquired and absorbed by the two giants, the South Pacific Railroad and the Santa Fe Railroad.

Now, the company's president and key figure in power is a prominent figure in California history, Milton Slocum Latham.

This is an extremely interesting old guy.

He served as Governor of California, albeit for a ridiculously short term, and he also served as a U.S. Senator.

But this year, his primary identity remains that of a top banker in San Francisco.

President of banks in London and San Francisco.

This identity means that he can leverage a huge amount of international capital from Europe.

He represents the old money and deeply entrenched political forces in San Francisco.

He was unlike the four giants of the Southern Pacific Railroad, such as Stanford and Huntington.

Those people were self-made railroad nouveau riche, who grew up wildly on the bones of Chinese laborers and land granted by the government.

Latham, on the other hand, is more like a politician and financier sitting in an office in the financial district.

What is a banker most concerned about?
It's the company's profitability, its balance sheet, and its stock price!

Lawson immediately grasped this key point.

Unlike the Big Four, Rutham would never get involved in the dirty details of the railroad business.

He wouldn't care which gang was moving goods at the Sausalito docks, nor would he care how many bodies were buried under the railway sleepers.

As long as profits continue and stock prices rise!
NPC's operations headquarters and vehicle repair base are located in Sousalito.

But its financial and decision-making headquarters are undoubtedly in San Francisco's financial district, in the luxurious bank president's office in Rutham.

As Lawson recalled the information about NPC Company, a sinister smile slowly crept onto his lips!

What a perfect prey!
Northern Pacific Coast Railroad (NPC)

This company, huddled in a narrow strip of land encompassing San Francisco, Marin County, and Sonoma County, is like a complacent local tyrant.

If the Southern Pacific Railroad (SP) is a saber-toothed tiger on the map of California, then the NPC is at best a coyote lurking in the remote and desolate mountains!

This saber-toothed tiger in 1878 was busy with an even grander hunt.

Its four major owners are investing all their energy and capital into the vast deserts of Southern California and Arizona.

They were going to build America's second transcontinental railroad in that barren land.

That was the truly monumental achievement that could shake the very foundations of an empire.

As for Malin County, this remote and impoverished place with its mountainous terrain, damp climate, and limited profits?

The saber-toothed tiger didn't take it seriously at all.

Milton Ratham, the boss of NPC, has a subtle understanding with the four giants of SP.

That's the balance of keeping the well water separate from the river water.

NPC is content with its monopoly on timber, dairy, and agricultural transport in the North Bay and has neither the intention nor the ability to challenge SP’s massive transcontinental business.

SP was happy to let Rutham, a banker with influence in San Francisco's financial and political circles, painstakingly develop the land that was isolated by mountains and redwood forests. The Southern Pacific Railroad, however, was not interested.

But he, Lawson, is interested!

The Sausalito port and terminal is far more than just the throat of Northern California and a cash king.

It will be a perfect cornerstone for the future empire of Lawson.

It has a huge repair workshop and warehouse, which can be immediately converted into Baihu Security's logistics base and armory.

It controls all ferries to and from San Francisco, which means that Lawson can easily send the goods produced on his tens of thousands of acres of land to San Francisco tables at the lowest cost and fastest speed, in exchange for boxes of silver dollars!

More importantly, it's the ship.

NPC's balance sheet includes more than just those steam ferries traveling to and from the bay.

For its massive mahogany transport business, it also owns two old, but absolutely sturdy and durable ocean-going cargo ships.

This is what Lawson truly wanted!
His population channel connecting the Qing Dynasty to North America needed such a vehicle.

With his own ships, he could bypass middlemen, those greedy shipping companies and smugglers, and transport thousands of Chinese laborers directly to his territory safely and efficiently.

Freight and passenger transport.

By controlling Sousalito, Lawson essentially gained a venous access point in North America that could provide unlimited blood transfusions.

“Milton Slocum Ratham…”

Lawson murmured.

A banker, a politician.

This kind of person wouldn't maintain a private army on his own turf like a railway nouveau riche.

He relies more on the barriers built by law, order, and money.

What Lawson excels at is using the most savage violence to smash down these barriers of civilization.

"Got to find a way."

Lawson's gaze deepened.

"Pry this piece of fat meat out of that old fox's mouth!"

……

Thoughts withdrawn.

The prey in San Francisco requires a bit of patience.

Those clowns of Saint Raphael, their time has come.

Pinkerton's three hundred elite troops had already slunk away from Marin County.

Now, in that small town, only that idiot Buck and his four hundred-odd hastily assembled militia remain.

Nothing to worry about!

As for the more than eighty county police officers that Buck smugly and forcibly incorporated into the combat sequence?
Lawson almost burst out laughing.

More than half of Sheriff Thompson and his loyal subordinates, more than forty men, were Lawson's henchmen.

They were like a slow-acting poison injected into Buck's body.

However, Lawson does not intend to activate them now.

Let them continue playing the role of those terrified cowards, causing Buck a little trouble from within when it matters most; that will suffice.

The real show is elsewhere.

In the center of San Rafael town, in an abandoned compound less than a thousand yards from Buck's command post.

Sixty Winchester repeating rifles, along with a mountain of ammunition, lay quietly under the tarpaulin in the basement.

They are just waiting for their new owners to appear out of nowhere when the clock strikes midnight!
Night fell once again over the town of Saint Raphael.

Fog rose from the bay and began to permeate the streets.

"You all better pull yourselves together!"

Buck, wrapped in a thick woolen overcoat, was personally inspecting the town's outer defenses.

That bastard Dennis Kearney is rotting away in the dungeon.

Given the rabid nature of those Irish gangsters, they're very likely to come tonight!

Revenge? Bring it on!
He has laid an inescapable trap! His more than four hundred guns, and that Gatling gun, are itching for fire!
He wanted to teach those bastards a lesson about what it means for an ant to try to shake a tree!

Time passes minute by minute.

The last chime of midnight had not yet dissipated in the fog.

"Ouch!"

A mournful wolf howl suddenly rang out from the north of the town!
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Immediately afterwards, a burst of gunfire erupted simultaneously from the north and east!
Finnian and Johnny led seventy-two ruthless bandits and launched the fiercest attack right from the start!

"Enemy attack!"

"Fire! Fire!"

The militia defenses at the front of Buck's command post were completely overwhelmed!
The enemy's firepower was so fierce it was completely unreasonable!
The bullets were so powerful they tore through the sandbags, pressing them so hard they couldn't even lift their heads!
"Stay calm! All of you fucking stay calm!"

Buck pulled out his revolver and shot a militiaman who was trying to escape in the back of the head.

"Gatling gun! Fire! Tear those bastards to shreds!"

"Chug, tug, tug, tug!"

The militia battalion's Gatling guns finally began to roar, their fire spitting fire into the darkness, temporarily suppressing the frontal offensive.

"FUCK!!"

Just as Buck breathed a sigh of relief, a commotion broke out on the western defensive line!
"Lieutenant! There's something wrong with those police officers on the western front!"

"FUCK!"

Buck roared, "What's wrong with those losers again?"

"Their guns jammed! And several of them even slipped and fell at this crucial moment! The defense line is about to be breached!"

"Thompson!"

Buck yelled at them, "Keep your men in line! If you mess up again, I'll shoot you!"

Thompson ran over in a panic: "We can't hold them off! Their firepower is too much!"

Just as Buck was so angry with these useless people that he was about to personally lead his men to hold the gap on the western front.

"Chug, tug, tug, tug!"

A Gatling gun blast even more ferocious than the one on his side suddenly rang out from the bandit positions on the east side!

Buck witnessed firsthand how his sandbag defense line on the east side, along with five or six militiamen behind it, was reduced to a bloody mess in just three seconds!
"No! Impossible!"

"How the hell do they have Gatling guns too?"

……

Just as the defensive line on the outskirts of the town was being torn apart and was on the verge of collapse.

In the center of San Rafael town, in that abandoned courtyard.

Sixty tall figures appeared out of thin air.

He then went into the basement, picked up the Winchester rifles that had been prepared beforehand, and loaded rows of bright yellow bullets into the chambers.

After checking their equipment, they filed out and disappeared into the fog-shrouded back alley.

……

"Hold on! Hold on for me!"

Buck is going crazy right now.

He never expected that the enemy's firepower would be so formidable!

That Gatling gun was still relentlessly reaping the lives of his militiamen!

"Machine gunner!"

Buck, hiding behind a crumbling wall, roared at his Gatling gun: "Suppression! Suppress that son of a bitch machine gun on the east side!"

(End of this chapter)