America 1881: Legend of the West

While Brannan was chasing his love rival with a gun on the beach at Hyde Street Pier.

Hanif is staying at his house in the city center.

His wife did go back to her parents' home.

Hanif's mother-in-law is sick and needs her daughter to go back and take care of her for a few days.

Not too far, right in Sacramento.

Hanif took out two sausages from the cabinet, threw them into the iron pan and started frying them.

Soon, the house was filled with the aroma of meat, tangerine peel and rosemary.

A piece of bread, a glass of milk, two sausages.

This is dinner for the assistant in charge of the California branch of the Border Detective Agency.

After enjoying his homemade dinner, Hanif dropped the plate on the table.

He didn't want to wash the dishes at all.

Filling his stomach was really not a difficult task for a bounty hunter who used to live in the weather all year round, but it was too difficult for him to wash the dishes.

Hanif lifted the kerosene lamp on the table and placed it on the wooden stand next to the sofa.

He turned the knob on the side of the kerosene lamp.

This knob is used to control the wick in and out, and can adjust the brightness of the kerosene lamp.

Hanif turned the kerosene lamp to maximum brightness.

He picked up a palm-sized comic book from the crack of the sofa and started reading.

This comic book was given to him by Chen Jianqiu.

Hanif was not interested in this stuff at all.

He only had a soft spot for novels that described the complex physical relationship between men and women.

There are people in San Francisco who specialize in writing this stuff. Basically, if a copy is on the market, Hanif will buy one.

But now since the boss asked to read the comic, let’s read it.

However, what he didn't expect was that this comic book was surprisingly interesting.

"Tuk, Tuk, Tuk."

While Hanif was reading the comic book with great interest, there was a sudden knock on the door.

This is the door-knocking code for the Border Detective Agency.

Hanif put down the comic strip in his hand and raised his head.

How could there be a subordinate at such a late hour? No, a colleague came and knocked on the door.

If it was before he was masturbated, it was possible that the subordinate detectives came to report some urgent work. At this time, they should go to Donnie.

There was another knock on the door.

It’s still the same rhythm as before.

Hanif thought for a moment and stood up.

He walked to the table, opened the drawer, and took out a revolver.

This revolver, with the exception of the first cartridge, is always loaded with bullets so that it can be fired at any time.

Hanif put the gun in his waist and walked to the door.

He opened the door.

Standing outside the door was a bearded old man whom he didn't recognize at all.

He was holding a leather bag in his hand, which was bulging.

"Mr. Hanif, can I come in?" the bearded man asked.

"Who are you? I don't think I've seen you before." Hanif looked up and down at the person in front of him.

When he was a bounty hunter before, he was known for his good memory, otherwise he would not be able to remember the faces of fugitives.

But he had no impression of the person in front of him at all.

The bearded old man opened the leather bag in his hand, and there was a paper bag inside.

Although the light in the corridor outside the door was not good, it did not prevent Hanif's eyes from seeing the contents inside the paper bag.

That's US dollars.

Looking at Hanif's expression, a hint of contempt flashed in the bearded old man's eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

"Mr. Hanif, you won't let me stand outside all the time, will you?"

He closed the bag again and asked Hanif, who had not returned his gaze.

"Come in, come in." Hanif turned sideways and let the old man in.

The old man stepped across the threshold and began to look at the decoration and furnishings of Hanif's house.

But before he had taken a few steps, he was startled by Hanif's shout.

"Change your shoes! Sir!" Hanif took out a pair of slippers from the cabinet and threw them in front of the old man's eyes. "My wife is not here, and I don't know how to clean!"

The old man caught a glimpse of the bare plates on the table, and the flesh on his cheeks jumped.

The two people sat down on the sofa.

Hanif had no intention of pouring water or coffee for the guests, but rubbed his hands:

"What do you call it?"

"My name is Cherry Miles, just call me Miles."

The old man is none other than the famous Pinkerton detective - Hellman. Myers is his pseudonym and one of the multiple identities he has used.

In a sense, this identity is real and even has birth records.

"So, my dear Mr. Miles, you came to my house at night with a bag of dollars. What do you want me to do for you?"

Hanif's eyes were still on the leather bag, but he kept talking.

"Our detective agency's business is very extensive, and we have rich experience in security, escort, and hostage rescue. Of course, the Border Detective Agency also has the largest information network in the entire west. If you need to find someone, we can also take over."

Hellman waited quietly for Hanif to finish.

Then he shook his head.

"What? None of these businesses?" Hanif scratched his hair, and then stroked his tall beard.

He pondered for a moment and then whispered to Hellman:

"Sir, if you want to buy someone's life, the detective agency will not accept the business openly, but I can help you handle it privately."

Hellman laughed.

"No, no, no, Mr. Hanif, you are overthinking, I don't need anyone's life."

Hanif was stunned:

"Then what do you want to do?"

Hellman stood up and began to pace back and forth in the room:

"Mr. Hanif, I'm from the Pinkerton Detective Agency. We have detailed information on you."

"You were originally an excellent bounty hunter in Wyoming. Five years ago, you took your follower Donnie to hunt down Mr. Chen Jianqiu. Ah, yes, it was your current boss who arrived in New Mexico."

"I don't know what happened later, but Mr. Chen Jianqiu suddenly became the top rich man in New Mexico, and you joined his banner as the head of the California branch of the Border Detective Agency."

"And the Border Detective Agency is growing bigger and bigger under your leadership."

Hanif frowned.

The person in front of me knows his experiences very well.

So, what is he going to do?

Hellman paused:

"But have you ever thought about it, he never trusted you."

"Just because of a small thing, he will be furious with you, put such an excellent person in charge into the cold palace, and let your former apprentice be your current leader."

"This is an insult."

Hanif sank into the sofa and said nothing.

Hellman observed Hanif's expression and struck while the iron was hot:

"The Pinkerton Detective Agency was forced to withdraw from California for some reasons. However, we never gave up here."

"And here we are, in need of a good person to lead the Pinkerton Detective Agency back to form."

"We feel that you are the most suitable candidate."

As Heilman spoke, he took the bag out of his purse and threw it into Hanif's arms.

"This is just a deposit. If you are willing to join us, we will give you a monthly salary of fifteen hundred dollars."

This salary is twice that of Pinkerton’s original head of California.

Hellman believes that this price should be considered very sincere.

Hanif reached into the paper bag.

He doesn't need to look or count. He only needs to pinch the thickness of each stack of US dollars to know how much there is.

There were about two thousand dollars in the paper bag.

A smile appeared on Hanif's face.

Hellman understood that this smile meant that Hanif was attracted.

The information is indeed correct.

This man is greedy for money, and he is even more greedy for money than he imagined.

"You can contact me at any time if you want." Heilman took out a small piece of paper from his clothes and handed it to him. There was an address written on it.

"Okay, Mr. Miles, I will consider your proposal."

Hanif smiled, shook Heilmann's hand, and walked him out the door.

When Heilman disappeared down the corridor, Hanif closed the door.

The smile disappeared from his face.

Hanif casually threw the paper bag in his hand onto the sofa and snorted:

"Two thousand dollars? Fifteen hundred dollars a month? Where's the beggar?"

Not to mention that this amount is far from his current salary.

Hanif hasn’t even counted the shares and dividends yet!

A bunch of poor people still want to poach someone, does that mean they are not sincere? Or poverty limits their imagination.