Yo, robbery.

Chen Jianqiu poked his head out of the window, wanting to see who was engaged in the promising profession of robbing trains in this barren mountain and wilderness.

The train stopped exactly at a bend, and two or three men with triangular scarves over their faces rode horses and whistled and surrounded the wheelhouse of the locomotive.

Two more gunshots rang out, white smoke rose and several people rushed into the cab.

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

Then, a dozen or so horses rushed straight in front of the train, and everyone on the horse had a gun in his hand.

Together with the people who came down from the cab, they were starting from the front of the car, driving people down from compartment to compartment.

The passengers in the first compartment were forced down from the front door one by one with their hands held high. One of the robbers who walked a little slower kicked the door on the ass and fell to the ground.

But then he was dragged off the ground by another person next to him, grabbed by his clothes, and threw him to the side of the train. His mouth was broken, and his face was dirty.

"Stand on the edge of the train, face inside, in a row!" Behind them stood a man who looked to be the leader, who was wearing a yellow cowboy hat with a rolled edge, and was very skilled in business.

There are more than a dozen of these robbers, and the division of labor is clear.

After all the people in the first compartment had been driven down, the one who opened the door rushed in and began rummaging through the luggage of the passengers.

The passengers stood in a row facing the wagons, their hands raised and attached to the wagons, and they did not dare to move, because there were a dozen guns pointed at them behind their backs.

Seeing that the people in the carriage were lined up, the yellow cowboy hat threw his spear to one of his horses, and with another of his men, began to search the pockets of the shivering passengers one by one.

They were followed by a short man with a bag in his hand, and his hands stretched the pockets of the bag open, carrying what had been found from the passengers.

"Don't shake it!" The yellow cowboy hat was touching the trouser pocket of one of his glasses, which was so frightened that he couldn't find the cuff of his pants.

Another robber unceremoniously punched him in the back.

Liquid ran down the legs of the glasses to the ground, and the dirt on the side of the railroad tracks became wet, and the glasses collapsed to the ground in dismay.

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

"Bad luck!" The cowboy hat turned, bent down, rubbed his hands on the dwarf's clothes, and prepared to search for the next one.

Suddenly, he heard a laugh.

The laughter came from the back of the car, and he followed the sound to see a cowboy leaning on the window and smiling at the scene.

The yellow cowboy hat suddenly burned on his face and burned with anger.

How can anyone be so disrespectful of their profession? Don't respect your efforts?

He grew up on the U.S.-Mexico border, grew up in poverty, was bullied, and made a living by herding cattle and petty theft. If it goes on like this, then most of his life will be the same as his father who died of intestinal obstruction.

It wasn't until the Mexican named Hernandez gave him his first broken gun that he was determined to change the trajectory of his life through his own efforts.

He fought with the sheriff, fell in love with the Indians, he led his team alone, and now he finally made a name for himself in the industry, he robbed shops and carriages; The technique of his robbery is well known to everyone in the industry.

Deming still has his $249 bounty notice, which no one has dared to take down.

Because of this, he decided to find a train to start, break into a famous place, become bigger and stronger, and create brilliance again.

But now, this cowboy actually laughed at himself because of a soak of urine, and laughed at himself, the "god of robbery" in New Mexico.

He raised his hand to that window and shot it.

With a "bell", the bullet hit the roof of the car, and the head in the hat was still there, looking at him with a grin.

"You three come with me, and the others continue to search from the back of a carriage." The yellow cowboy hat gritted his teeth, waved his hand at the person behind him, and angrily came towards the carriage where Chen Jianqiu was.

At this time, in Chen Jianqiu's carriage, most of the people bent down with their heads in their hands, and some people even heard the gunshots and lay directly on the floor, so skilled that it was distressing.

Sean bent down to pick up the cigar that had fallen on the ground, and asked with a shy face, "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." The writer said absentmindedly.

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

The black man was deflated, daring to be angry but not daring to speak.

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, a gunshot rang out, and bullets flew out the window.

Screams erupted again in the carriage.

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

Chen Jianqiu's body and head did not move at all, his hands dragged his chin, and he could only see the side face under his hat.

Was this man stupid?

Chen Jianqiu just wanted to see the excitement at first, but when he saw the yellow cowboy hat, he took out his gun in annoyance and was thinking about whether to remove it.

But he made a visual inspection, and the direction of the aim was ridiculously crooked, so he didn't even have the intention of moving.

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

"I, I said I'd come to New Mexico to get some materials, and .......," the writer replied as he observed the movement at the entrance of the carriage.

A sound of footsteps came from outside, and then, before the sound came, 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 stood up, and the two of them raised their hands above their heads, and walked in line in the direction of the entrance of the carriage.

Mark Twain was also ready to get out of the car.

But Chen Jianqiu held his chin and lazily pressed his hand down at him.

The writer hesitated, but in the end his butt did not move away from the chair of the train.

When the last man had gone down, the hoarse voice below rang out again:

"Is there anyone else! What about the Chinese cowboy? Get out of here! ”

There was no one in the carriage.

"Bang!"

The yellow cowboy hat fired a shot at the outside: "If you don't come down again, you won't be killed!" ”

This shot frightened a man to pee his pants, and this time the man fell directly to the ground and fainted.

The yellow cowboy hat personally rushed up with two of his men, and he appeared at the door of the carriage with a handsome turn, and the revolver in his hand pointed into the carriage.

But the sight in front of him made him stunned.

In addition to the hateful Chinese cowboy, there were seven or eight passengers in the carriage.

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

(End of chapter)