BSI Chapter 70 Buying Land, Solving the Trouble
Chapter 70 Buying Land, Solving the Trouble
One wanted to eliminate the root of trouble that was causing him trouble, while the other wanted to pay for his old brother's blood debt.
The two exchanged a glance and tacitly agreed to be bound to the same chariot.
On the dusty journey home, the monotonous sound of horses' hooves pounded against the silence.
Tom broke the silence, speaking seemingly casually: "Covington's ranch... what should we do with it?"
The sheriff tightened his grip on the reins and remained silent for a few moments.
He turned his head and gave Tom a deep look, his gaze complex, containing a weariness of relief mixed with a hint of barely perceptible ruthlessness. He finally uttered only two cold words:
"compensation!"
Tom's lips curled up silently in the shadows where no one could see.
A sharp glint instantly illuminated his eyes.
"Sheriff, who did you say issued the land title to Covington?"
The two sheriffs went straight to Bozeman's land application office.
Inside the door, the clerk was leisurely dozing off.
Tom knocked on the door with his fingers.
Tap, tap tap.
There was no sound from inside.
Tom increased the force.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Finally, a lazy voice, tinged with impatience at being disturbed, rang out: "Come in!"
Tom pushed open the door.
Inside sat a portly middle-aged man, dressed in a suit and tie, looking out of place in this dusty western border town, more like a clerk who had just been working in an office building in the east.
The sheriff pulled out a chair and sat down, getting straight to the point: "It's been investigated. Covington Ranch was seized, an illegal takeover. The person has confessed and is in custody."
He stared into the clerk's eyes.
As the town's sheriff, the clerk naturally recognized him.
I just don't understand why they suddenly came to my door.
"I...I don't know..." His eyes flickered.
"You're the only clerk in this town's land office, right?" The sheriff's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a sense of pressure. "Should I continue?"
The fact that the federal government could set up a land office in this emerging town on the western frontier speaks volumes about Postman's influence.
The clerk swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You...you have no right to judge me!"
“That’s right,” the sheriff nodded, “bribery and accepting bribes are the judge’s prerogative. However…” He slowly pulled a document from his pocket, “I have the evidence here. You want me to hand it over to the judge?”
Court judges are rarely seen, but the meaning of the word "judge" is self-evident.
The clerk, sweat beading on his forehead, asked, "What...what do you want?"
"Write a statement," Tom interjected, his tone leaving no room for argument, "proving how that Covington rancher threatened you and forced you to issue him the land title! Especially... how he threatened you with your family's lives!"
The clerk's gaze darted back and forth between the sheriff's stern face and Tom's sharp eyes, as if weighing the options.
Finally, he gritted his teeth, picked up his pen, and started writing furiously.
After finishing writing, he handed it to the sheriff with trembling hands.
The sheriff didn't take it, but gestured with his chin toward Tom.
Tom took the materials, glanced at them quickly, and almost whistled.
That's so damn real! No wonder it's a pen holder from the city!
The grief, the injustice, the helplessness... are all vividly and movingly written!
Anyone who sees this would slam their fist on the table and shout: "Comrade, you've suffered!"
Looking at the bright red handprint and signature at the end, Tom nodded affirmatively to the sheriff.
"Covington went bankrupt. His ranch was given to someone else as compensation." The sheriff spoke calmly, as if discussing a trivial matter. "The person has arrived. You, process the paperwork."
Even the most confused clerk would understand.
Covington has fallen, fallen completely.
Who will be the one to fall?
He didn't know, but it was definitely related to the sheriff in front of him!
He hurriedly pulled out the file book: "The ranch...the ranch has a total of 23,000 acres! It's divided into two, a large ranch of 20,000 acres and a small ranch of 3,000 acres."
"What's the price?" Tom asked.
The clerk stole a glance at the sheriff.
The sheriff had his eyes closed, as if he were asleep.
"$0.2 per acre!" the clerk practically spat out the figure through gritted teeth.
hiss!
Even the sheriff suddenly opened his eyes.
A glint flashed in Tom's eyes, so fast it was impossible to catch.
"make a deal!"
He deftly pulled three hundred dollars from his wallet and slammed it on the table: "Deposit! This land is mine!"
The clerk forced a smile: "Buyer's name?"
"Lee White!"
As Tom left the land office, he tried to offer the sheriff a drink, but the sheriff refused.
"A corpse left out for too long will cause a plague," the sheriff said calmly. "The place is ready."
Tom was somewhat puzzled.
"Follow me." The sheriff didn't explain further and turned to leave.
Tom followed closely behind.
We arrived at a remote pasture outside the town.
A tall stack of firewood was neatly arranged, and on top of it was Covington's stiff corpse!
"For the sake of peace in the town and to prevent the spread of the plague, burn it on the spot," the sheriff said casually, as if what was to be burned was just a pile of garbage.
Tom nodded.
The sheriff casually tossed the torch into the woodpile.
boom!
Flames erupted instantly, greedily devouring the firewood and the corpse.
The stench of burning grease, mixed with the crackling of oil, permeated the twilight wilderness.
The firelight illuminated Tom's face as every detail of his encounter with the sheriff flashed through his mind.
What heinous thing Covington did to deserve such wrath?
Why would the sheriff not even leave him a complete corpse?
However, this was exactly what Tom wanted.
The two parted ways only after the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, the flames had died down, and the embers were only slightly warm.
Before parting, Tom leaned close to the sheriff and whispered, "The Secret Service agent's identity is confidential. That's the rule."
The sheriff nodded.
"Lee White!" Tom extended his hand as if they were meeting for the first time.
"Bill Gartler!" The sheriff reached out to shake hands.
When his fingertips touched Tom's palm, Tom's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.
Tom stopped, waved casually, and turned to leave.
He still has things to do.
The sheriff opened his palm, looking at the roll of bright green banknotes that had been quietly slipped in, and a smile crept onto his lips.
He casually tossed the money to his deputy beside him.
"The brothers split it up."
The deputies immediately burst into knowing chuckles.
The Covington cowboy's corpse being dragged through the streets has already made the town of Bozeman several times noisier than usual.
Who would have thought that there would be a "good show" to be staged after nightfall!
Tom rode his horse to the entrance of the Valley Bar, dragging the bartender's already stiff corpse behind the saddle.
He dismounted and kicked open the bar door!
"Who's the boss?" A thunderous voice instantly drowned out all the noise, plunging the entire bar into deathly silence.
Behind the bar, a man in a shirt and vest with a mustache pushed aside the astonished customers and stepped out with a grim face: "That's me!"
"Is this one of your people?"
Tom Dutton's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a knife chilled to the bone, instantly cutting through the noise of the bar.
He swung his arm violently, slamming the bartender's stiff corpse to the ground with a dull thud that seemed to hit everyone's heart.
boom!
The bar erupted in chaos!
Exclamations, curses, and the screeching sound of chairs scraping the floor mingled together.
Two cowboys who had been quietly drinking at two tables near the door suddenly glared at each other, stood up abruptly, their hands already on the gun handles at their waists, and charged forward with fierce expressions!