Kerosene, also known as fire oil, is a finished light oil refined from petroleum through a distillation device.

Before the invention of the internal combustion engine, kerosene, as the main product of petroleum refining, entered thousands of households, mainly used for kerosene lamps and kerosene stove fuel.

And Standard Oil, which had just formed the Oil Trust, at this time mastered most of the American refineries.

At the same time, they also have the power to price kerosene.

Recently, however, in and around Albuquerque, a shipment of kerosene has been sold well below market prices.

As a result, Albuquerque's residents, who had chosen to light candles and burn firewood, switched to kerosene lamps and kerosene stoves.

Forbes, one of the retailers of these cheap kerosene, has also made a lot of money this month.

At this moment, he is wiping his kerosene lamp and happily preparing to start a new day's business.

However, a group of people in suits suddenly walked into his grocery store.

"Hey, what do you guys do? It's not officially open yet, so if you want kerosene, you can't wait outside! "Forbes is a little dissatisfied.

Recently, he has made a lot of money, and his waist has become much harder.

The man in the suit at the head looked up and down the furnishings in the grocery store, and when he heard Forbes's words, he immediately turned to him:

"My name is Meyer, and I'm the general manager of Standard Oil's Roswell branch."

Forbes's eyes rolled for a moment, and a smile appeared on his face: "Excuse me, is there something wrong?" ”

"I heard you sell kerosene here, right?" Meyer's tone didn't become polite because of Forbes' change of attitude.

Forbes was tempted to smack his mouth, but he knew it was useless.

The wooden board hanging from the doorway outside is clearly written.

"Yes, sir."

"But I've checked, you're not one of our dealers, and besides, you never sold kerosene here before this month!" Meyer's gaze was aggressive, "So, where did your goods come from?" ”

"I can't tell you this, it's a trade secret! My sir. "Forbes simply played the scoundrel.

"Our oil trucks have been robbed many times in this month! Stolen! I've called the police! Meyer began to intimidate.

"I now inform you of two things, the first, to stop selling kerosene products, we suspect that your supply is not coming from the right source; Second, I hope you can tell me who provided you with the supply. ”

He pointed to the men in suits behind him, "They're Pinkerton detectives with law enforcement authority in New Mexico!" ”

Meyer's intimidation, however, did not frighten the grocer.

He dismissed the rhetoric: "I'm not going to tell you, now please get out of my grocery store." ”

Meyer's face turned pale, he didn't expect that the Pinkerton detective with a weapon behind him would not be able to deter a small grocery store owner.

What kind of education do these people in the west have?

"You wait to be sued!" He dropped a harsh word and left the grocery store.

One morning, he traveled all over Albuquerque, visiting every grocery store that sold kerosene.

However, no one gave him a good look, not even if he was armed with Detective Pinkerton.

The shop was still open, the kerosene was sold, and who stole his oil was still unknown.

The next day, he went to the police station in Albuquerque.

He was received very politely by the chief of police.

Meyer also told the director what had happened, and told him that if the issue was not resolved, he would go to court.

"You can rest assured that you should sue and prosecute, but before that, I still have no right to help you stop everyone from selling kerosene." The director spread his hands, "There's no evidence." ”

Meyer had a bit of chest tightness.

It seems that you can only rely on yourself.

He decided to keep an eye on it for a week, and these grocery stores would definitely have to stock again, and when the time came, he would catch all the stolen goods.

However, this week, nothing was found.

He took Pinkerton's detectives around Albuquerque for a week, but did not see anyone bring kerosene.

Those oil thieves, it was as if they had disappeared.

On the contrary, the owners of the grocery store began to become more and more irritable towards them.

"Get out! You bastard in a suit! ”

Blocking people's money is like killing your parents.

If it weren't for the Pinkerton detectives behind Meyer, the owners of these grocery stores, they would have picked up the shotgun under the counter and shot the nasty guy in front of them.

And with the tight supply, the price of kerosene has also risen.

The discontent of the inhabitants of Albuquerque is also growing.

If you know this, why spend another amount of money on a kerosene stove?

It's another early morning.

Meyer woke up, and he got out of bed.

The spring sun shines through the window, illuminating the whole room and making people feel happy.

Meyer picked up a cup of coffee and went to the window.

He was ready to take a look from afar, to change the bad mood he had been in for a while.

However, when he walked half a meter away from the window, he was just about to open the curtains.

"Smack!"

The glass of the window was shattered.

A fist-sized rock shattered the glass, flew in through the window, and smashed directly into the coffee cup in Meyer's hand.

The coffee spilled Meyer, and the cup fell to the floor.

"Standard Oil get out of Albuquerque!"

"Oil thief!"

……

Meyer was dumbfounded, and was about to run to the window to see what was going on, but was pulled back by Detective Pinkerton's captain who rushed in through the door and pressed to the ground.

"Don't go near the window! People here really dare to shoot! ”

Meyer was dazed, he couldn't imagine why these people had such a deep hatred for him.

The captain handed him the newspaper in his hand.

This is an Albuquerque Morning Post, fresh out this morning, with a front-page headline:

Standard Oil's shamelessness and greed – behind the skyrocketing kerosene prices

Meyer glanced at the news and described him and the Rockefeller behind him as impudent bastards who plundered the resources and wealth of the people of New Mexico.

Through monopolies, they make huge profits and demand the closure of grocery stores that sell cheap kerosene!

The next step for these people is to continue to raise the retail price of kerosene and get the people of Albuquerque to go back to burning firewood!

There's even an interview with the grocery store and even the police chief attached below.

Meyer's eyes darkened.

"No, I'm going to sue them for defamation! Slander! He struggled to get to his feet.

However, Captain Pinkerton, who has been in the West for many years, knows what New Mexico is like, and he knows much more in his head than Meyer is now.

Combined with what happened last time, Standard Oil and Meyer are stinky streets in Albuquerque, and if you don't do it, you will have to stink with you.

A few more stones were thrown up.

"Otherwise, let's do the next trick, you transport oil again, and my brothers and I will ambush behind you and lure them out!" The captain persuaded.

In this situation, it is better to run away first, and there will be more and more people waiting around.

In Albuquerque, he could not shoot at the crowd as he did an Indian.

"The cost is calculated according to the place where the case is handled, and the escort fee cannot be calculated again." Meyer still didn't forget to plan, "This week's accommodation expenses, food expenses, and budget have exceeded the standard. ”

"Okay, okay, I ask you to stop talking now, can you go out with me first?" The captain dodged a thrown rock.

Ten minutes later, a group of Pinkerton detectives escorted Meyer out of the back of the hotel.

They cautiously mounted their horses, ready to slip away.

But it was still discovered by some "enthusiastic people".

Instead of besieged them, they sent them the most rustic "greetings" in English or Spanish, about their parents and family.

Meyer and his escorts fled.

And in the window seat of a restaurant not far from the hotel, a yellow-skinned young man dressed as a cowboy, holding a coffee cup in his hand, watched the embarrassed figure of Detective Meyer and Pinkerton.

And the long-haired beauty opposite him was holding a copy of the Albuquerque Morning Post in her hand, reading it carefully.

"I can't believe you'll write about this." Camilla winked at Chen Jianqiu as she watched.

Chen Jianqiu smiled but did not speak.

He didn't tell Camilla that the last report was also from him.

Now that Scott has shared the resources of the media with him, he doesn't see any problem with using them.

What's more, everything he wrote was true.

Two more

(End of chapter)