Frisco was a distinctive Victorian-style gold mining town with over 300 wooden two-story buildings, mostly arranged in two neat rows, with a main street about 2 miles long running through the entire town, and a total population of nearly 2,000 people.
This population already far exceeded the scale of a typical Western town of 50-200 people.
Where there was gold, there were swarms of prospectors.
At the front and back of the town were two towers, over eight meters high, each with a brass bell and a clapper suspended inside—to be rung as an alarm when enemies were spotted.
The town's police station was located over 300 meters from the front entrance.
Sheriffs and Deputy Sheriffs in American Western towns were sworn law enforcement officers, enforcing county-established laws, authorized to arrest suspects and bring them before a judge, and could also issue arrest warrants and subpoenas.
These Sheriffs and Deputy Sheriffs, also known as constables, were not selected but elected by local residents, belonging to local police, and could be considered civil servants.
They received money from and were governed by the county court, having no direct relationship with State Police or Federal Marshals, but rather a cooperative one.
There was also another type of police called Federal Marshals, specifically responsible for enforcing federal laws, equivalent to 21st-century federal law enforcement agencies like the FBI, but when local towns were understaffed, they sometimes also served as Sheriffs for those towns.
The Marshal of Frisco was Duncan Sinclair, of Scottish descent, who also worked at the police station.
Because Western towns often lacked sufficient police force, when there were many outlaws, the constables would summon some male residents of the town, give each of them a badge, and temporarily serve as police during the riot suppression.
After the mission, the Sheriff would retrieve the badges, and these individuals would revert to their status as civilians.
Therefore, most Sheriffs and Deputy Sheriffs in Western towns during this era were retired soldiers, highly skilled.
Because if their skills were not good enough, they could easily die in the line of duty.
Among the 25 officers chasing the gang this time were Sheriff Brian and 4 Deputy Sheriffs, while the other 20 people, including Henry, were temporary officers.
This near-total annihilation was an extremely heavy blow to the entire town, with at least twenty families losing their pillars.
Henry, like a whirlwind, drove eleven horses to the stable next to the police station; the dense sound of hooves startled the officers inside the police station.
A lean, tall, hook-nosed white man in his forties with a receding hairline—Deputy Sheriff Ronald McKinley—walked out with 3 officers.
"Henry, what happened to Sheriff Brian?" Ronaldasked in a low voice.
Henry replied, "We chased 8 gang members to Coyote Hill and encountered an ambush by another 36 bandits. Sheriff Brian and the other officers were all killed in action, and all 44 bandits were also eliminated."
A strange glint flashed in Ronald's eyes. Just as he was about to say something, an old but strong voice came from behind him: "Little Henry, do you know who these bandits are?"
Along with the voice, an old man in his sixties with white hair and a white beard walked out of the police station with three guards, passed Ronald, and stood about 2 meters to Henry's side.
This was the town's Mayor, William Sinclair.
Sheriff Brian was recruited by him.
At the same time, the Sinclair Family was the largest of the town's three major families.
The other two families were the McKinley Family and the Palermo Family.
Each of these three families had thirty to fifty armed guards.
Among them, the Sinclair Family arrived the earliest and was the most powerful.
But now, Sheriff Brian and the 4 Deputy Sheriffs at the police station were wiped out, and a considerable portion of the Sinclair Family's power was curtailed.
With one side diminishing and the other growing, it was hard to say what would happen.
"The bandit leader looked to be about thirty, with dark brown hair, a full beard, and a flame tattooed on the inside of his right wrist," Henry said.
William nodded and said, "Then he should be MichaelDolin, an Irish executioner. His Dolin Gang has committed many serious crimes and has warrants out for them in multiple states."
Henry said, "Michael's body is in the hills. Besides the eleven horses I brought back, there are also 20 police horses and 31 gang horses, so we still need to go back and bring back the other officers, Michael's body, and those horses."
At this moment, four more officers in their twenties emerged from the police station.
Henry immediately said, "Pete, you four came out just in time. Help me lead these 10 horses into the stable."
The slender, lean Pete rushed to the horse carrying Sheriff Brian's body, and his blue eyes instantly filled with tears.
He was Sheriff Brian's nephew and Henry's only good friend at the police station.
"What happened? Uncle Brian was so strong, how could this be?" Pete instinctively asked in disbelief, his voice a rapid succession of questions.
"Right! Henry, first explain why even a powerful gunman like Sheriff Brian couldn't escape, yet you are unharmed?" Deputy Sheriff Ronald said coldly.
Ronald, as a mole from the McKinley Family planted in the police station, had always been tightly suppressed by Sheriff Brian.
Henry, as Sheriff Brian's confidant, never paid attention to Ronald's thoughts or orders.
Henry even suspected that Ronald was involved in this ambush on Brian.
Henry smiled faintly and said, "That's naturally because I killed all the remaining bandits."
Ronald was choked by Henry's audacious tone.
He was well aware of Sheriff Brian's strength; his rifle marksmanship was definitely among the best he had ever seen.
This was the crystallization of talent and hard work; how could a young man who had just turned 20 possess such perfect skill?
Moreover, Ronald had seen Henry's marksmanship three months ago, and it could only be described as passable.
Ronald kept a straight face and said unhurriedly, "Your explanation is unreasonable. I have reason to suspect you colluded with the bandits, which led to the deaths of all other police personnel."
Henry said with disdain, "If you can't provide evidence to accuse me, your reckless defamation seriously tarnishes my reputation. I formally challenge you to a duel!"
Ronald could hardly believe his ears.
Bullshit! Did this kid not know his own strength?
"Hmph! Sheriff Ronald's suspicion is reasonable, and besides, what right do you have to challenge him to a duel? I'll teach you a lesson for him," James, looking shrewd and capable, interjected. He was one of Ronald's three henchmen, tall and an accurate shot, also of Irish descent.
Mayor William said heavily, "Gentlemen, the situation is unclear, and we are short on fighting men. Let's not argue; everything can be discussed later."
Henry's grandfather was the town's Sheriff during his lifetime and had a deep friendship with William.
And William clearly didn't believe Henry's account, but he trusted Henry, only thinking there was a hidden reason, so he spoke up to interrupt Henry's duel proposal, lest the impulsive Henry lose his life.
Just then, the alarm bell on the tall building at the front entrance of the town rang, and at the same time, a sharp scream echoed from afar: "Enemy attack! Dozens, even a hundred mounted bandits!"