Just before the sun jumped over the ridge, John and Liam finally met up with the Vanderlinde Gang in the Great Valley.
This time they escaped the siege unscathed. John, who was always good at coming up with ideas, didn't come up with many ideas, but Mr. Fowler not only deftly resolved the crisis, but also made a trustworthy friend. John is increasingly aware of the wisdom that belongs to old people like Mr. Fowler. This kind of wisdom is developed over the years. It is different from the wisdom of young people who emerge from haste. It is full of profound thinking.
"Actually, sometimes I should let you decide some things." After unloading his luggage, John came to Mr. Fowler's side.
"Oh? Then I'll take this as a compliment."
"Whatever you want." John said with a smile, and then he looked around and applauded, "Everyone, come here, let's have a short meeting."
"As you can see, our gang encountered an unprecedented siege, and Mr. Fowler's calm analysis rescued most of us, and then took the initiative to stay and lead me to break out." After speaking, John looked at Mr. Fowler, his eyes revealing With respect, the members also turned their attention from John to Mr. Fowler, "Most of us have bounties on our heads, which means that Pinkerton and the police are constantly hunting this gang, and we have to live without freedom. It’s a life worth talking about, at least for now, but you have to know that these days will eventually come to an end.”
"If this is really an unfortunate era, then we can only depend on each other for survival." Thomas, who was sitting on a wooden pile not far away, said.
"Yes, I hope that no matter how many disasters we go through, we will not lose faith in life." John stood up vigorously and looked at this small temporary camp with relief, the temporary shelter of these nine people...
There were many things to do this morning. First, we had to go to the Dakota River one mile east to collect the valerian roots that Mr. Baglow mentioned. Then we went to nearby villages and towns to inquire about Detective Pinkerton.
"Are you leaving? You said we shouldn't be separated again." John stepped on Black Pearl and was about to leave. Stritch came over with a bucket, which was filled with hot mist. It looked like she was going to brush the horse.
John was thinking about how the always high-profile Stritch could put down his position and do these tasks that belonged to a farm woman. "I think we can't be so passive anymore."
"That's not the reason for you to seek death. To be honest, after going through so many things, you make me worried." Stritch patted Black Pearl's strong neck, half crying and half laughing.
"Don't worry, Miss Manstar."
John galloped forward with his whip raised. One mile was not a long journey, and before Black Pearl reached full speed, its front hooves stepped into the cold river water.
Valerian, this plant with its pink flower clusters is easy to identify, but the real power is its rhizome - valerian root. The roots of the plant are resistant to spoilage, so gather as much valerian root as possible without worrying about storage. In addition to improving the ability of dead eyes, valerian root also has the functions of refreshing eyes and ears, making it a must-have medicine for cowboys.
After nearly filling his satchel with the bitter-tasting roots, John returned to camp to farm for a while before setting out again.
Even though there was a strong desire in his heart that prompted him to go, John really didn't know where to go. Detective Pinkerton might appear anywhere in the area, but John had to know which places the detectives had not set foot in so he could plan accordingly. The gang's escape route. In order to achieve the goal, even the tiger's den has to be broken into.
The name "Wallace Station" flashed through his mind, and at the same time some bad memories surfaced.
John had crossed paths with Wallace Station twice before. One was when a pioneer gang led by the British man Joshua may have looted the station, and the other was when Valentine's police officers set out from here to suppress the strike in Annesburg. . These all happened a year ago, and they were also things that John encountered when he came to this land. Thinking about it now, he still feels scared and a little ridiculous.
John gritted his teeth and rode north to Wallace Station.
The station is surrounded by green fields, and the surrounding grass is swaying in the wind. It is like a small station hidden in a paradise. It is refreshing. It does not have the feeling of desolation and solemnity that it felt when you first arrived.
As I walked closer, I heard human voices coming from the hall of the station. The sound did not sound like the calls of employees passing information among themselves, but more like the playfulness of people at the card table. John tied the horse and pushed through the door, and his idea came true.
"Want a game? Sir."
Three men were sitting at a round table playing with the playing cards in their hands. The table was filled with cents and leftover fruit cores. An uncle sitting by the window moved his lips when he saw someone coming in, holding it in his mouth. The cigar he was holding also swayed up and down.
"No, gentlemen, thank God for giving us a bright morning." John shook his head to reject the man's invitation, and then greeted them with what he thought was a more polite word.
"No, no, no, we never express our gratitude to anyone, not even God. Look at our comfortable life now, God will be envious of us when he comes." The uncle smiled honestly, and accidentally didn't hold it in his mouth. Smoke, looking at this funny look, his companions also burst into laughter.
"However, if someone brings a few bottles of wine or chats with us, I would be willing to thank him. Don't you think so? Angel!" The uncle specially increased the volume of the last person's name, as if calling someone outside the house. Personally, there was indeed some movement outside the house, "Angel, haven't you finished your work yet? I told you that there may not be a train passing by all morning."
A young man walked in after hearing the sound. He was wearing a farmer's uniform and holding a bucket in his hand. Although the chores made him sweat profusely, he looked relaxed.
From memory, John recognized him as the awkward clerk at Wallace Station, but Angel didn't seem to recognize him.
"Sir, are you thirsty?" Angel put down the bucket excitedly, then rubbed his hands and looked at John.
John looked at the bucket with foreign objects floating on his face with a grimace, thinking how thirsty he was and not wanting to touch the water from an unknown source, "I almost filled my stomach with wild dew this morning, so I'm sorry, little sir."
"Angel, don't be so straightforward. If you describe this bucket of water as brandy, this gentleman is eager to taste it." The uncle took over the words humorously. After that, everyone started grinning, and John also laughed with him.
After chatting for a while, John thought it was time to express his intention, so he threw a five-dollar coin on the table and said, "I have a question, gentlemen. Have you encountered any strange people passing by the station or getting off the bus nearby recently? car?"
The people who were playing cards were stunned for a few seconds as they looked at the coins that fell in front of them, and then immediately looked at John with smiles on their faces.
Five dollars is not a small amount in the eyes of an ordinary clerk. Angel took the coin and said first, "I have been on duty at the platform. Come with me, sir. I can look up the train arrival records for you."
John watched Angel turn over the yellowed pages of the old record book over and over again. The expression on the station clerk's face gradually changed from excitement to disappointment. John realized that this man might not have found what he was looking for, " If you don’t have it, don’t look for it, just keep the money, I’m just guessing, the actions of those bastards are still so unpredictable.”
The station clerk ignored it and continued to flip through the pages quickly with his fingers, but the expression on his face relaxed, as if getting the money was a victory for him.
John was lying on the reception desk, his face buried in his arms and he was confused again. If the station staff failed again, where would he learn about Detective Pinkerton's movements, and how would he ensure the safety of the gang. If there is no result, everyone will face a life of fear and fear. What is even more frightening is that this will deeply shake the unity that the gang has just established.
After a while, John no longer had any hope in the station clerk. He raised his head and saw that the table was covered with letters. They were not sorted, and some even fell to the ground. Buried among the letters was a newspaper. It was very new and seemed to still be current. John I thought I might as well read the newspaper, maybe there would be relevant reports.
In the past, John would only buy newspapers when certain major events happened, and most of these events were directly involved or indirectly related to John. He bought newspapers for no other reason than to see what the government and police said about these events. Take it seriously to determine whether you are in danger.
John quickly searched the "Crime Bulletin" section, which was a unique section of the West Elizabeth State newspaper. It was dedicated to recording all serious crimes in the vicinity and publishing rewards. It was a type of newspaper that both bounty hunters and criminals rushed to buy.
The newspaper said that it seems that West Elizabeth has been very peaceful recently, with few new criminal records. The police are busy dealing with former criminals, and among this, unexpectedly, John saw a familiar name that he had never thought of. Will see her here.
Margaret McIver…
