Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 83 The Death of Dennis Corney
After reading the telegram, Kane and Thorne froze in place.

Buck was stunned for a few seconds, then a very exaggerated smile spread across his face.

"Hahahaha!"

He laughed so hard he almost fell over, and tears were welling up in his eyes.

"What the hell did I just hear?!"

"The infamous Pinkerton! The nation's number one detective agency! Hahaha!"

"Your brothers were just slaughtered like dogs, your faces were just trampled in the mud, and now you want to retreat?"

Buck deliberately moved closer to the two of them and said contemptuously, "I finally understand."

"In the Federal Army, we call this desertion!"

"You bunch of bastards who serve as dogs for capitalists and suppress striking workers, do you even deserve to call yourselves an armed force? You don't even have the most basic human decency!"

"That's the difference between a mercenary and a patriot!"

"We shed blood for California! And you only care about money. Now it seems your boss can't afford it!"

"get out!"

Buck suddenly waved his hand, pointing towards the door.

"Go back to your Chicago! The blood debts of Northern California will be settled by us, the California Militia! We don't need cowards!"

"you!"

Thorne was so angry that his eyes turned red, and his hand had already subconsciously pressed on the handle of the revolver at his waist!

"Thorne!"

Kane quickly pressed him down and shook his head.

It's pointless to argue with this idiot who's blinded by anger.

The fact that headquarters issued two direct orders clearly indicates that the situation is about to spiral out of control.

Perhaps, evacuating now is the best option!

He had originally intended to give Buck a few more words of advice, telling him just how bizarre and terrifying the gang's tactics were.

But now, seeing Buck's stupid face that screamed "I'm the best in the world," Kane gave up.

"You'll regret this, Lieutenant."

Kane left with his last words, then turned to Thorne and said, "Assemble the troops, let's go!"

……

Half an hour later, the residents of San Rafael, along with reporters from major newspapers across the United States, stared in disbelief as a large and well-trained armed force assembled in the town square.

Three hundred Pinkerton agents stood in neat rows.

My God! Where are they going?

"Weren't they here for revenge? Why are they leaving already?"

"The bandits haven't been caught yet! Aren't you going to avenge the wolverine?"

Under the bewildered gazes of the crowd, this elite force, representing the strongest private armed force in the United States, simply turned around and headed towards the San Rafael Pier, leaving.

The townspeople's panic reached its peak at this moment.

"Quiet! All of you, shut the fuck up!"

Buck stood on the steps in front of the command center: "You all saw it!"

"Those self-proclaimed invincible Pinkertons! They're cowards! Trash!"

"They've been terrified by those Irish bastards! They abandoned us! They ran away!"

"but!"

Buck slammed his fist on the railing: "They're gone, but I, Lieutenant Buck, am still here! The Governor of California's special envoy, the successor to Major Allen Cross, am still here!"

"I have over four hundred fully armed California warriors under my command! Over four hundred real fighters!"

"That's enough!"

"I assure you! Protecting Saint Raphael is more than enough!"

"Bring those damned gangsters here!"

Buck drew his sidearm and fired a shot into the air.

"If they dare to step into this town, I'll fucking turn every single one of them into a sieve!"

Buck's bold words temporarily calmed some people's hearts.

He himself was very confident that he could protect the town.

It's good that the detective agency left; those idiots were only delaying his progress.

Buck returned to his office in high spirits and downed half a bottle of whiskey in one gulp.

A sergeant walked in, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Sir, the people in the dungeon haven't eaten or drunk anything for two days."

"If this continues, they will starve and die of thirst inside."

"FUCK!"

Buck almost forgot that he still had a few hot potatoes to deal with.

"Those bastards, they're dead, so be it!"

He grumbled and cursed, but then something else occurred to him.

"Forget it, damn it, we can't let them die like this. The governor will skin me alive!"

"Get them some food, just make sure they don't die."

"Yes, sir!"

The sergeant, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, hurried to the kitchen.

"Hey, Joey! The sergeant's ordered to get some food for those Irishmen in the dungeon."

"food?"

The cook spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground: "Those damned Finnian traitors? They deserve to be shot!"

"That's an order, Joey!"

The cook impatiently picked up a wooden bucket: "Give them this! Damn it, leave me alone!"

Inside the wooden bucket were leftovers from the militia's meals over the past two days: cold mashed potatoes, broth, breadcrumbs, and various bones, all mixed together and carrying a slightly sour, rancid smell.

The sergeant frowned, but didn't say anything, and carried the half-bucket of stuff toward the dungeon.

……

Occasionally, a few groans could be heard from inside the dungeon.

Dennis and his dozen or so men lay on the stone ground like mummies.

For two days and two nights, he didn't drink a drop of water.

Hunger and dehydration had almost completely drained them of their strength.

Dennis's lips were cracked and bleeding, and now only one thought remained in his mind.

Water! I want water! Even just a sip of dirty water!
"Bang!"

The dungeon's iron door was suddenly kicked open.

The glaring light of the kerosene lamp made Dennis squint instinctively.

"Get up, you bunch of scum! Time to eat!"

The sergeant casually placed the wooden bucket at the doorway.

The rancid smell made several of the still-sane people gag.

"W-what is this?"

"This is pig feed!"

"You bunch of bastards! We're not livestock!"

"what?"

The sergeant said as if he'd heard a joke: "Looks like you bastards aren't hungry."

He grinned maliciously and kicked the wooden barrel directly!
"Clang!"

The wooden barrel overturned, and the semi-solidified spoiled food, mixed with dust and hay on the ground, spilled all over the ground.

"Then lick it clean for me!"

The sergeant spat on the ground, laughed loudly, and turned to walk out.

"boom!"

The iron gate was locked again.

The crowd stared silently at the filth on the ground.

Dennis's stomach was still cramping violently.

He smelled the rancid odor, but beneath that rancid smell, he damnably caught a whiff of meat broth!

One minute. Two minutes.

"No! I can't take it anymore!"

One of the younger subordinates was the first to break down.

He crawled over like a dog, grabbed a handful, and stuffed them into his mouth.

"Don't……"

Dennis tried to stop him, but the young man had already started wolfing down his food.

This sight completely shattered their last shred of sanity. "Damn it! I still want to live!"

"eat!"

One figure after another climbed over.

Dennis closed his eyes in despair.

Listening to his companions' almost beast-like swallowing sounds, the fire in his stomach almost burned through his chest!
Dignity? Demeanor?
In the face of death, it is worthless!
Finally, he climbed over.

Thank goodness, although it's leftovers, it's not completely spoiled.

They were like a pack of starving ghosts, lying on the ground and devouring their food.

A dozen minutes later, everyone was finally full.

They collapsed to the ground, panting contentedly.

But Dennis soon realized something was wrong.

His stomach did not calm down with the arrival of food; instead, it began to cramp violently, as if a branding iron had been poured into it!

"Uh!"

"My stomach! My stomach!"

One of his men next to him suddenly clutched his stomach and rolled on the ground in pain!

"how……"

Just as Dennis was about to speak, a strong, metallic taste of blood suddenly welled up in his throat!

Immediately afterwards, my nose started bleeding uncontrollably!

He looked at the others in horror; all those who had eaten the pig feed had started bleeding from their mouths and noses at the same time!

"poisonous!"

Dennis struggled to get up. He wanted to bang on the door, to tell the people outside that it was Buck! Buck had poisoned him!

But it's too late.

"Ho! Ho!"

Large gushes of blood gushed from his mouth!

He and his men died in that dungeon, convulsing in agony.

……

after an hour.

The sergeant hummed a little tune and opened the dungeon door again.

"Well, you bastards, are you done eating? Want some more...?"

The mockery came to an abrupt end.

In the dungeon before them, several corpses lay curled up on the ground in extremely contorted positions.

"Sir! Sir!"

Buck is giving a joint interview to reporters from the San Francisco Chronicle and the Sentinel, touting his fortress plan.

"Dead, dead!"

The sergeant barged in without even knocking: "They're all dead! Dennis Kearney! They're all dead!"

"what?"

Before Buck could react, the reporters had already rushed out!
"Step aside!"

"Quickly! The dungeon!"

Reporters swarmed in and stormed into the dungeon.

Upon seeing the scene in the dungeon, almost all the reporters gasped in shock!
Buck looked grim.

In the very town he had just announced he would protect, a political prisoner who had garnered national attention died!

"This is fucking suicide out of guilt!"

"Dennis Kearney! He knew he was guilty! He committed suicide out of guilt!"

The reporter, trembling, raised his camera and aimed it at the pile of pig feed on the ground.

"Suicide? Lieutenant?"

"Did they commit suicide by eating this?"

The report was published that very evening.

Workers' Party leader Denis Kearney met a gruesome end in the Saint-Raphael dungeon!

Lieutenant Buck claims he committed suicide out of guilt, but suspicious "pig feed" was found at the scene!

Everyone was speculating about how Dennis had died.

But compared to this, an even more terrifying question arose in the minds of everyone in Saint Raphael Town.

Pinkerton is gone! Dennis Kearney is dead!

Those Irish bandits who swore to massacre Saint Raphael in order to rescue him!
How will they retaliate?

The kitchen of the militia headquarters in the town of Saint Rafael.

"So, what you mean is."

Buck stared at the cook, who was covered in grease: "This packet of rat poison, just by sheer coincidence, fell into that bucket of pig feed?"

Cook Joey was stirring a pot of bean soup with a greasy spoon.

He seemed completely unconcerned about the lieutenant's questioning.

"Sir."

Without even looking up, he replied in a muffled voice, "I've said it eight times already, that bucket of stuff is garbage piled up in the corner, it's for feeding pigs."

The packet of rat poison on the table was just bought yesterday; the rats are practically making their home in the flour sacks.

"Who knows which scoundrel accidentally knocked it over? Or which drunkard mistook it for salt?"

"As for your people."

Joey finally turned around and gave an innocent smile: "He rushed in and asked me for food for those Irish bastards."

I don't have time to make them anything else, so I just pointed to the trash can in the corner.

Who knew they'd actually eat it? They did, and then, just like that, *bang*! Gone to meet their maker.

Buck glared at him angrily.

Did this cook have a motive for murder? Obviously not.

He didn't even know that the bucket of stuff was meant to be eaten.

The sergeant who went to get the food? He was just following orders.

Having ruled out all suspicion, Buck was extremely agitated.

Damn it, all you can say is that Dennis Kearney and his gang were incredibly unlucky!
"Deserve it!"

It's better that he's dead. It saves those reporters from staring at the dungeon every day, and it saves that bastard from having a chance to overturn the case when he gets out!

As for "poisoning"? To hell with it!

Buck waved his hand and strode out of the kitchen: "Clean this place up! If any reporters dare to approach the kitchen again, break their legs!"

……

Buck's bad mood vanished the moment he stepped out of the command post and saw the troops gathered in the square.

To stabilize public morale and, more importantly, to silence the reporters, he ordered all personnel to be armed and held a grand military parade in the town.

More than 430 state militiamen marched in fairly neat formations along the town's main street.

Their equipment was considered excellent for the California militia, mostly consisting of Springfield rifles left over from the Civil War, while the officers carried Colt revolvers.

Although their steps were sparse and their formation was crooked, their sheer numbers and domineering presence truly intimidated the town's residents.

At the very back of the line were Sheriff Thompson and the more than eighty officers he had assembled.

This remaining police force from Marin and Sonoma counties actually seemed more professional.

Although they did not have a uniform, they were still equipped with various Winchester and Henry repeating rifles.

Buck glanced at them dismissively.

They're just a bunch of cowards who've been scared out of their wits by the Headless Horseman!

However, even waste has its uses.

A large number of people represents power, so naturally the bigger the better.

So he waved his hand and incorporated all eighty-odd people into the combat formation, under the unified command of Thompson, to be responsible for the western defense line of the town.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Friends from San Francisco and Sacramento!"

Buck once again stood on the makeshift podium.

"You all saw it! The Pinkerton Detective Agency, those cowards who call themselves Iron Fists and Avengers, they've left!"

"They fled without a fight! This won't affect the overall strength of the town of Saint Raphael at all!"

"On the contrary! Now, without that group of disobedient and self-righteous detectives, our Saint Raphael's defenses are stronger than ever before!"

"I, Lieutenant Buck, command over five hundred fully armed warriors! We have Gatling guns! We have a strong defensive line! And we have the determination to defend our homeland!"

"Let those Irish bastards hiding in the gutter come!"

"If they dare to show their faces, I swear! I will kill them all! Not a single one will be spared!"

(End of this chapter)