After kicking Yellow Fur and his bale henchmen out of the office, Dennis Carney was the only one left in the office.

After seeing that everyone was gone, he opened the lock of the drawer, took out two documents from it, and threw them on the table.

He put his hand on his forehead and looked at the papers on the table.

One is a contact document from the California Gold Miners' Association.

They are planning an all-out strike action to get more pay and shorter working hours for the workers.

They hope that San Francisco's side can give solidarity and support.

The other, a secret letter, was addressed to him by the president of the California Mining Federation, with the terms of his purchase.

Carney thought for a moment, shredded the secret letter, and threw it in the trash.

It's not because the California Workers' Party leader is so strong that he treats money as dung.

It is not that he thinks of his fellow workers with all his heart, and has only righteousness in his heart.

Rather, he knew that if he accepted bribes from those bosses in this way, the next day, a copy of the letter and evidence of his own money would appear in the front pages of the newspapers.

The prestige that he had built up among the workers through acts such as the expulsion of Chinese workers would also be ruined.

At that time, he will also be worthless.

What he cares more about is power!

From this point of view, those bosses are far from enough to open the price.

Rallies and solidarity are necessary, speeches are also needed, but new chips are needed to make those bosses bleed.

Give him a reason and he can make this California tremble.

Carney put the contact paperwork back in the drawer and left the office.

On the other side, on the edge of the dock, Chen Jianqiu waited for an afternoon, but he didn't wait for Huang Mao, who came to take revenge, and felt a little bored.

He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time.

Five o'clock in the afternoon.

"Uncle Huang, I'll go back first, I should come back in two days, and I'll trouble you about recruitment." Chen Jianqiu said goodbye to Huang Qingyun.

He rode a horse and left the "Chinese Workers' Mutual Aid Association" and returned to his hotel in Chinatown.

Li Sifu greeted him.

"Let's hurry up and have dinner, we have work in the evening." Chen Jianqiu commanded.

Li Sifu and the people of Long Xiang's group have been resting in the hotel for an afternoon, and they are so idle.

As soon as he heard that there was work, he immediately came to his senses, ran to everyone's room, and ordered Chen Jianqiu's words.

At about eight o'clock in the evening, Chen Jianqiu knocked on the door of their room.

After a brief gathering in the lobby, they set off.

Unlike western towns like Lincolnshire, San Francisco is a big city, and the streets are lit up by elaborate cast-iron gas lamps at night.

However, in Chinatown, you can't enjoy the blessings of light.

The streets are pitch black, with only the light shining from the windows of the low houses along the street, dotting the dark night of Chinatown.

Chen Jianqiu took the people of the Long Xiang group to an abandoned courtyard.

The house in the small courtyard was damaged by the mob attack on Chinatown a few days ago, and the owner of the small courtyard is also missing.

Chen Jianqiu asked them to light the lantern.

"Change your clothes." He said to the crowd and began to dig out his saddlebags, "Brought to you before Roswell left." ”

In a few moments, their clothes were changed.

"Boss, I've always felt a little unlucky to wear dead man's clothes." Li Sifu took out a flattened soft bowler hat from his saddle bag and arched the top out of it with his fist.

"It's good, it's good." Chen Jianqiu glanced at him and tidied up the collar of his shirt for him, "Don't worry, it's all cleaned, Aunt He used to run a laundry in Denver." ”

In the blink of an eye, twenty or so people dressed as cowboys have become gentlemen in suit vests.

The only fly in the ointment is that their clothes are a little wrinkled.

Chen Jianqiu took out a square towel from his pocket and covered his face, revealing only his eyes.

He pulled another badge out of his pocket.

The badge was ripped from the chest of the garment and engraved with an open eye.

He weighed the badge and put it back in his pocket.

"Let's go!"

Twenty or so men got back on their horses.

They took a small road out of Chinatown, made a circle and went straight out of town, then swaggered along the coastline towards the harbor.

At this time, there were not many pedestrians on the road, and they saluted the horses passing by.

Under the dim street lamp, they couldn't see the faces of the people on the horses at all, only the guns on their backs, and thought they were armed patrols patrolling the night.

And at this moment, in the outhouse of the office of the port union, it is the lights that are on.

A group of dock workers are gathering here.

Huang Mao stepped on the chair with one foot, holding two empty wine bottles, gesturing on the table.

First this, then this, then this.

He was arranging a "raid" on the Chinese Workers' Cooperative this evening.

"Boss, do you have a gun?" A thin man, craned his neck, looked at the two empty wine bottles on the table in confusion.

Huang Mao's arrangement was verbose and unfocused, but he didn't understand it too much.

"Bring, why not?" Another, wilder-looking worker said, his shirt bare, scratching at his chest hair, "If you dare to stand in our way, you can shoot us down." ”

Huang Mao thought about it and didn't deny his proposal.

"If you want me to say, you don't have to bother so much." A bearded man shook his head, he raised his neck, took a sip of beer, "Rush in directly, smash it, and then set a fire to it, see if they get out of here!" ”

"That's what I did the year before last, hahahaha" The chest-haired worker laughed.

During the riots a few years ago, he was the first to storm Chinatown, climbed onto the roof of a house, smashed a hole in the roof, and threw oil and torches into it.

"You know what? The people in those rooms were burned all over the floor, just like rats, hahahaha! ”

When the others heard the description of the big man with chest hair, they also laughed.

This kind of behavior makes them find a kind of pleasure, which is like a kind of.

Strictly speaking, some of them don't understand what Dennis Carney is saying on the podium.

They just want to set fire and loot.

Just as the wild laughter of the workers echoed in the room.

"Bang!"

The door to the outhouse of the office was kicked open.

Twenty masked men in suit vests rushed in.

Each of them had a repeating rifle in his hand, and these guns were quickly pointed at every worker present.

The chest-haired man was just about to get the gun next to him, but he was knocked to the ground by a masked man beside him with the butt of a gun, and the other quickly took out the dagger at his waist and plunged it into his heart.

See blood.

The thin man was just about to scream, but he also suffered the same fate, and the person who attacked him was extremely ruthless.

After all, he was the apprentice taught by Chen Jianqiu's ear.

No one else dared to move anymore, and each of them had a gun on their heads.

A man in a bowler hat walked in through the doorway.

His face was covered with a black cloth, and his eyes under the brim of his hat shone with a grim light.

His boots, creaking the floor.

Chen Jianqiu looked around:

"Who said they were going to set it on fire?"

One more, two more later

(End of chapter)