Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 77 The Night of the New Holmesburg Massacre (Seeking monthly tickets and recommendations)
January 24th, Sunday, 1 PM.

The moon doesn't rise in the east until the latter half of the night; at this time, the night is deep and pitch black.

Logan carefully bypassed the state police cordon and the Pinkerton Detective Agency's perimeter guards, quietly climbing the small hill overlooking New Holmesburg and hiding in the dry bushes, forcing himself not to make a sound.

From this small hill, you can see the gates of the Carnegie Steel Plant, which is now a camp for striking workers. Several campfires are scattered around the camp, and workers are lazily dozing off near them.

Because the strike had lasted for five days, the anger and passion of most workers had been gradually worn down by time.

It's Sunday night again, and many workers need to go home to take care of their children, so the current camp for striking workers doesn't even reach 40% of the total number of striking workers.

Even so, there are still more than a thousand people in the camp, living in makeshift shelters, huddled together in old coats.

As night fell, they could only rely on huddling together and the fire for warmth.

Logan lay prone in the bushes and slowly crawled forward for a while until he finally found a vantage point with the best view, where he wouldn't be discovered.

Meanwhile, in the distance, armed personnel from the Pinkerton Detective Agency slowly crept up to the vicinity of the striking workers' camp under the cover of darkness.

Logan was a little nervous. He had learned from reliable sources that Pinkerton Detective Agency's armed men were going to take action against the striking workers that night, and the order to use violence against the workers came from Mr. Carnegie's senior assistant, Henry Frick.

Yesterday, this person formally rejected the workers' request, announced a significant reduction in their wages, and issued a statement to newspapers and other media outlets, refusing to resume negotiations with the workers.

This statement effectively confirms that negotiations between Carnegie Steel's management and workers have broken down.

Logan now had six trading orders in his shirt pocket, close to his heart. These were orders he had obtained from various betting firms on Saturday to go long on Carnegie Steel. In addition to Larry's $500, he had also contributed $100 himself, and as Larry had instructed, he had placed the orders with the various betting firms just before the market closed on Saturday.

As someone who had placed a bet, Logan was worried and wanted to come and see how things were developing in person.

But once he was actually hiding on the hilltop, looking at the workers scattered throughout the camp, Logan couldn't help but feel nervous. He even had the urge to run down the hill and tell the workers to run away as soon as possible...

Logan knew this was unrealistic, so he could only lie there and watch quietly.

After a while, a small steamship sailed up from the riverbank in the distance, carrying Pinkerton detectives armed with weapons. They sailed swaggeringly to the workers' camp and demanded entry into the Carnegie Steel Plant.

The workers on guard duty also had weapons, mostly smoothbore guns and long hooks and hammers from the steel mill. When they saw the uninvited guests arrive, they gathered a group of men and confronted the Pinkerton group with their weapons.

From Logan's perspective, he could see that, unnoticed by the workers, other hidden armed men had quietly surrounded the striking workers' camp. They were armed with the latest shotguns, pistols, and rifles.

Logan was a little nervous. He looked at the Pinkerton detectives who were quietly gathering around, then at the clueless workers in the camp, and covered his mouth tightly with his hand, afraid that he would make a sound.

The Pinkerton detectives on the steamship have drawn the attention of the striking workers, who are now locked in a shouting match and a standoff, neither side willing to back down...

Just then, Pinkerton detectives, who had circled around to the back of the workers' camp, suddenly emerged from the darkness and began firing on the workers who remained in the camp.

"Bang, bang, bang!!"

A barrage of gunfire erupted, and in the endless darkness, the jets of fire from the guns were particularly glaring... It was clear that some of these shots were fired into the air to intimidate the striking workers, while others were actually aimed at people.

Screams, loud warnings, and shouts erupted haphazardly throughout the camp as the attacked workers began to flee in the opposite direction.

The workers confronting the steamship suddenly heard gunshots from the camp behind them and turned around in surprise. But in the brief moment they looked back, the Pinkerton detective on the steamship also raised his gun and opened fire without hesitation...

In an instant, gunshots and screams shattered the silence of the night.

There were sporadic shots fired back from the crowd of workers, but these weak counterattacks were soon completely extinguished by the dense gunfire from the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Most of the workers helped each other as they fled. Pinkerton detectives, armed, slowly cleared the area, some even firing shots at injured workers who were lying on the ground groaning.

Logan, who had witnessed everything from his vantage point on the hillside, felt his heart pounding wildly. He suddenly realized that he shouldn't stay there; it wouldn't be good if he were discovered...

He then silently retreated, and retreated again, until he was about half a mile away from the hill, before taking off running towards Boston.

At this moment, the gunfire behind him had quietly ceased, as if it had never happened.
.
The next day was Monday, the opening day of the market.

Logan sat listlessly at a breakfast table in a coffee shop, holding a cup of coffee but not drinking it, only hoping to gain some warmth from the hot coffee.

Before him lay a copy of The Boston Globe, its front page headline in bold: "Strike workers launch armed rebellion; organizer Deeport arrested."

Logan just glanced at the newspaper editorial, which stated that striking workers who launched an armed rebellion attacked the Carnegie plant last night but were repelled by Pinkerton police officers protecting the factory. This brutal armed rebellion resulted in the deaths of seven workers, three Pinkerton police officers, and over 130 serious injuries…

The news report, accompanied by photos, showed reporters the worker's murder weapons: the latest type of gun and axe.

The news report also included a photo of the arrested workers' leader, George Deporte.

State police arrested Deeport on suspicion of murder and rioting and put him in jail.

In closing, the reporter emphasized that the riots had been quelled, and the culprit, Deeporte, would face a just trial in court, where he would be hanged.

Logan sat at the breakfast stall for a long time, never touching the coffee he had used to warm his hands. Just before the stall opened at 10 a.m., he expressionlessly covered the now-cold coffee with a newspaper, tossed in a 10-cent coin, and turned to leave the cafe.

At 10:00 AM sharp, the stock market opened. Logan stood in the pyramid betting shop, expressionless, watching the price chart as he copied down the first price for Carnegie Steel stock.
$73.25!

Logan gave a wry smile. In his pocket was a trade order for 100 shares of Carnegie Steel, with the opening cost price listed as $42.5.

Logan made money; he earned over $3000 from his 100 shares alone. But he wasn't happy at all; his mind felt foggy, as if someone had poured a bucket of dirty water into it.

Suddenly he remembered the strange, distorted expression Larry had made before he asked him to place the order.

　Note: The actual Homestead Night occurred in July of that year in Pennsylvania.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)