America 1881: They Call Me Legend

Chapter 104 Yo, robbery?
Yo, robbery.

Chen Jianqiu poked his head out of the car window, wanting to see who in this barren mountain is engaged in the promising profession of robbing trains,

The train just stopped at a bend, and two or three men with triangular scarves covering their faces on horseback surrounded the cab of the locomotive, whistling.

Two more shots were fired, white smoke rose, and several people rushed into the cab.

A dead body was pushed out of the cab and fell to the ground.

Then, a dozen horses rushed over from the front of the train, and everyone on the horses had guns in their hands.

Together with the people who got out of the cab, they were starting from the front of the car and driving people down one car at a time.

Passengers in the first car were forced down one by one through the front door with their hands up.One walked a little slower, got kicked by the robber who was guarding the door on his buttocks, and fell to the ground.

But then he was dragged from the ground by another person next to him by his clothes and thrown to the side of the train.His mouth was broken, and his face was covered with dirt.

"Quickly, stand on the side of the train, face inward, and line up!" A man who looked like a leader stood behind them, wearing a yellow cowboy hat with a curled brim, and he was very skilled in his business.

There are about a dozen robbers in this gang, and the division of labor is clear.

After all the people in the first car were kicked out, the person who opened the door rushed in and started rummaging through the luggage carried by the passengers in the car.

The passengers stood in a row facing the wagon, with their hands raised high and stuck to the wagon. They dared not move because there were a dozen guns pointed at them from behind.

Seeing that the people in the carriage were lined up neatly, the yellow cowboy hat threw the spear to one of his horse boys, and led another subordinate to search the pockets of the shivering passengers one by one.

Behind them was a dwarf, holding a bag in his hand, and the pockets of the bag were stretched open with both hands, and he was carrying the things found on the passengers.

"Don't fucking shake!" The yellow cowboy hat was touching the trouser pocket of a pair of glasses, who knew that the glasses were so frightened that his whole body was like chaff, and the searchers couldn't figure out where his trouser pocket was.

Another robber punched him in the back very rudely.

Liquid flowed down the trouser legs of the glasses to the ground, the soil beside the railroad track was wet, and the glasses also limply on the ground.

The yellow cowboy hat suddenly realized that his hands were also wet.

"Unlucky!" The cowboy hat turned around, bent down, rubbed his hands on the dwarf's clothes, and was about to search for the next one.

He suddenly heard a laugh.

The laughter came from the back of the car, and he followed the sound to see a cowboy lying on the window looking at the excitement with a hippie smile on his face.

The yellow cowboy hat suddenly felt hot and angry.

How can someone disrespect their profession so much?Not respecting your own efforts?
He grew up on the U.S.-Mexico border. His family was poor and bullied since he was a child. He made a living by herding cattle and petty theft. If this continues, his life will probably be the same as his father who died of intestinal obstruction. .

Until the Mexican named Hernandez gave him the first broken gun in his life, so he determined to change the trajectory of his life through his own efforts.

He fought with the sheriff, fell in love with the Indians, brought out his team alone, and now he has finally made a name for himself in the industry. He robbed shops and carriages; his robbery skills were known to everyone in the industry. People don't know.

Deming Town (Deming) is still posting his $249 reward notice, so far no one has dared to take it off.

Because of this, he decided to find a train to start with, make a name for himself, become bigger and stronger, and create another glories.

But now, the cowboy laughed at himself, the "god of robbery" in New Mexico, for taking a piss.

He raised his hand and shot at the window.

With a sound of "clang", the bullet hit the roof of the car, and the head with the hat was still there, looking at him with a smile.

"The three of you come with me, others, continue to search from the back of the first car." The yellow cowboy hat gritted his teeth, waved at the people behind him, and angrily came towards the car where Chen Jianqiu was.

At this time, in Chen Jianqiu's carriage, most of the people bent their bodies with their heads in their hands, and some people even lay down on the floor when they heard the gunshots.

Sean bent down to pick up the cigar that fell on the ground, and asked shyly, "Great writer, do you still smoke this cigar?"

Although Mark Twain was not as unbearable as the others, the expression on his face was still frozen.

He was nervous.

"Take it, sir," said the writer absently.

Xiao En was just about to get a match in his pocket, but the cigar in his hand was snatched away by Chen Jianqiu who was still looking out the window.

The black man shrank to the side, daring to speak out.

Chen Jianqiu didn't look at the writer, but directly threw the cigar back to him across the aisle and the reluctant black man.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot and bullets flew out of the window.

There was another scream in the carriage.

The writer's body dodged subconsciously, and he looked at the Chinese.

Chen Jianqiu's body and head remained motionless, his hand dragged his chin, and only his profile under the hat could be seen.

Is this person dumbfounded?

At first, Chen Jianqiu just wanted to watch the fun, but when he saw the yellow cowboy hat angrily pulled out his gun, he was considering whether to take it off.

But he checked it visually, and the aiming direction was ridiculously crooked, so he didn't even have the intention to move.

He continued to chat with the writer: "By the way, Mr. Mark Twain, where did we just talk about?"

"I, I said I came to New Mexico to get some material, and..." The writer replied while observing the movement at the entrance of the carriage.

A burst of footsteps came from outside, and then, the sound came before the people, and a hoarse voice came from the entrance of the carriage:
"Everyone inside, get out of here."

Those who were squatting and lying on their stomachs all stood up. They raised their hands above their heads and walked in a line towards the entrance of the carriage.

Mark Twain also prepared to get off the bus.

But Chen Jianqiu rested his chin and lazily lowered his hand towards him.

The writer hesitated for a while, but in the end his butt still didn't move away from the chair on the train.

After the last person walked down, the hoarse voice below sounded again:
"Anyone else! Where's the Chinese cowboy? Get off!"

No one got out of the carriage.

"boom!"

The yellow cowboy hat fired a shot at the air outside: "Anyone who doesn't get down again will be shot!"

This shot made another person pee his pants in fright, this time the person fell directly to the ground and passed out.

The yellow cowboy hat rushed forward with two of his subordinates. He turned handsomely and appeared at the door of the carriage, with the left wheel in his hand pointing into the carriage.

But the sight in front of him stunned him.

Apart from that nasty Chinese cowboy, there were seven or eight other passengers in the carriage.

What made him feel the most unbearable was that among the seven or eight people, except for the curly-haired gentleman with a thick beard on his lips, none of them looked at him directly.

(End of this chapter)