March 19:
Two weeks have passed since Mrs. McIver was rescued, and during these two weeks she has quickly integrated into the gang.
Mr. Fowler said that my decision to rescue Mrs. McIver was correct. It was a proactive attack on us, who had been hunted by Pinkerton and the bounty hunters. And just as Mr. Fowler predicted before the war, our scout—— Mr. Thomas, when he was lurking in Blackwater Town, saw how anxious Detective Pinkerton was when he heard the news and chased there but found nothing. Facts have proved that our operation killed two birds with one stone.
One early morning, before the sun rose, John woke up from his sleep instinctively and happened to see Mr. Fowler walking worriedly, probably because he had something to do with him.
"What's wrong? Mr. Fowler, I can't stand the trouble these days."
Mr. Fowler frowned: "I think the danger has not been completely eliminated."
"Detective Pinkerton has left. They won't find out where we are for a while."
John stretched. The past few weeks of quiet life had restored his energy, and the gang could also use this to recuperate.
"Detective Pinkerton was temporarily sent away, but new enemies are targeting us. Those bounty hunters operating in West Elizabeth may have followed our indelible traces step by step and chased us here. Although those guys are not as good as Detective Pinkerton is cunning, but willing to do anything for a big reward."
"Bounty hunters? They don't have the patience to investigate every clue. If there are a few careful and bold people, we can easily handle it."
It’s not that John hasn’t considered the possibility of being attacked by bounty hunters. He knows their details. Those gangsters are not as obsessed with details as Detective Pinkerton. Instead, they follow the police and commit crimes in groups. Dealing with the scene.
"We have far away from the firefight area. Who would have thought that there is a nest of criminals hidden in the mountains."
"John, we cannot take it lightly. When I was patrolling a few days ago, I saw our bounty posted on a nearby telephone pole. Although the entire state is full of such things, it means that bounty hunters will also see it. What if they definitely think that we are nearby? According to their wandering character, if they accidentally discover one of us, our position will be exposed."
John nodded in agreement. Although bounty hunters are careless, the advantage is that they are numerous, so they still have to find a way to be completely prepared. "Do you have any ideas? Mr. Fowler."
"I tore up the wanted notices I saw as much as possible, but it was not enough. Civil servants would put them up again in a few days. We have to prevent the issuance of bounty orders from the source. I have an idea about this. "Mr. Fowler leaned into John's ear and said, "I plan to burn the wanted notices that have been printed but not yet issued, but we have to do this quietly, and I can't hide it with my old bones. It’s all about disappearing.”
John knew that this matter would naturally fall on him. Of course, this was also the responsibility of a gang leader. He could not shirk it. "These should be considered confidential government documents. It is not easy to sneak into them. Besides, I don't know where they are." where."
"This has to take advantage of my position. When I was Deputy Sheriff Valentine, I used to get wanted warrants at a place called the Cornwall Coal Tar Plant. This place was heavily guarded. According to Dan, the foreman of the tar plant, Burry said critical documents from several neighboring states were stored there."
"So you think our bounty is there?"
"I'm not sure either, I just have to give it a try."
More than ten hours passed, and at eight or nine o'clock in the evening, the bell of the end of work rang in the tar factory. The workers left their posts one after another and got on the train home. At this time, there were only a few workers and workers on duty in the tar factory. guard.
John and Mr. Fowler appeared on the hills not far away. It did take them a lot of time to get here from the big valley. In order to verify Fowler's guess, John felt that he had to take this step, even if the result might be unsuccessful. Because John was tired of living his life in slumber, he needed to take the initiative instead of always being chased away by law enforcement.
"John, my legs and feet are getting worse and worse. When I volunteered to save Margaret, I still believed that I was made of iron. I didn't expect that I would inevitably age."
John realized that if Mr. Fowler's health declined, the gang would be losing a major force and it would be more difficult for him to assassinate Irvo Smith.
John took out the binoculars and horn-handled knife. He put the rifle and shotgun back into the saddle bag, leaving only a revolver for self-defense. Since we are required to infiltrate, we cannot go on a killing spree under any circumstances.
"I'll be on guard for you, John. Remember to confirm the contents of the documents after you go in. We can't afford the trouble of burning the wrong things."
John took a general observation with a telescope. He found that there were guards all around the factory, and there were many oil tankers coming in and out. "Do you know how I can sneak into this place?"
"You can crawl under the fence, or you can hide in a horse-drawn carriage. In addition to the oil tankers, there are occasionally empty horse-drawn carriages transporting waste."
"I gonna go see."
As John spoke, he hid in the bushes beside the road. Mr. Fowler patted Black Pearl and the boy's butts, drove them far away, and then crawled in the grass to look at the distance of the road.
"There's a carriage coming, John," Mr. Fowler said softly in the grass shortly afterwards.
A flickering oil lamp came staggering in the direction of the tar factory. The carriage had only one driver and an arched white awning hung behind the carriage. This was the standard for Cornish coal tar factory carriages. configuration.
When the carriage approached the railway, a train full of kerosene cut off its path. The coachman consciously tightened the reins, and John took this opportunity to climb up behind the carriage.
After the train passed by, the white-covered carriage continued to move forward, but there was one more guest on board.
After an unknown amount of time, the carriage slowly stopped. Two beams of strong white light came in, and the interior of the white awning suddenly became brighter.
"Is that you? Al." A guard said.
The coachman's boots moved: "Hey... Tom."
"Receive the goods?"
"Yes... Gotta catch the early train to Saint-Denis."
"Okay, then you have to hurry up."
After a short question and answer, John's surroundings darkened. He discovered that the carriage had driven into the factory. The two bright lights in front of him were so conspicuous in the dark night. Fortunately, the two guards had their backs to the carriage so they did not notice what was hidden in the darkness. John.
"Let's go home after this shipment. That bitch in St. Denis said she couldn't wait to see me this morning."
The coachman said to himself as he stopped the carriage and walked towards the unloading area of the platform.
"We've arrived." John thought to himself. He jumped off the carriage and saw guards patrolling back and forth with long guns and lanterns on their backs. In addition, there were two towers in the factory. The searchlights on the towers were shining at a fixed frequency. external.
When the searchlight light swept over John, he squatted down and walked quickly to the factory building marked "Refining Workshop".
Indoor sneaking is easier for John. Although the space here is narrow and there are more guards, there is also a huge oil refinery to provide concealment, and the rumbling sound of the machine can also cover up the noise he makes.
Just like this, on the edge of being almost discovered, John passed through a bunch of drowsy guards and reached the last refinery without any danger. The situation here is a little different: there is still a guard in front of the roulette wheel of the oil refinery, and the person talking to him next to him is a man in a suit.
"There are still a few days until the vacation. Let's just stick to it." The man in the suit said, patting the guard on the back.
"I'm just worried about you, Danbury. We are a tar factory, why should we store those waste papers here and ask us to guard them." The guard sounded very impatient.
"Mr. Cornwall is an industrial tycoon. He took over the tar factory from his father Leviticus Cornwall and ran it in order. He won the trust of the government and the governor entrusted these important documents to Us," Danbury said.
"Okay, the job provided by Cornwall is quite easy, as long as the brothers' wages are not in arrears." The guard's tone softened.
"Okay, the file won't be lost in my office. I'll lock it in the safe, and then you can send the brothers off work."
Dambree said, walking up the stairs toward a door at the end of the second floor. When the last guard walked away, John followed closely. At this time, Danbury had entered his office. John pressed against the door and listened to the movement in the room. After a while, there was the sound of the safe being opened.
John put on his mask and rushed in, startling Danbury who was kneeling on the ground stuffing papers into the safe.
"Sir, who are you?"
"Stop what you are doing, Dambree, and tell me what these papers say."
"I would never do this... it would cost me my job."
John drew his pistol and pointed it at Danbury, closing the door behind him.
"If you don't tell me, I'll cost you your life, for good measure, Mr. Foreman."
Hearing this, Dambree raised her hands tremblingly, "These... seem to be bounty orders... belonging to a gang... the Vanderlinde Gang."
"Okay, burn them." John said coldly.
"……What did you say?"
John didn't answer, but thrust a bottle of bad whiskey and a box of matches into Danbury's hands, "I don't want to waste my good wine, let's burn it with these."
Dambree knew that resistance would result in death, so he reluctantly uncorked the bottle, poured some into the safe, and struck the match.
"Is this... okay?" Danbree said, looking at the flames in the safe with dull eyes.
John nodded with satisfaction, turned the pistol around and put it back into the holster, when he heard dense footsteps coming from downstairs.
"You did a great job! It's time for me to go, Mr. Danbury."
John said as he found the window in the office and jumped down from there. This was the escape route he had already discussed with Mr. Fowler.
The guards were all drawn upward by the firelight from the second floor, so John could walk out of the tar factory safely, leaving Danbree's curse behind.
On the hill not far away, Mr. Fowler waved to him with a smile, and behind John - a little fire from the New Hanover Tar Factory, which was the Vanderlinde Gang's efforts to survive.
