Chapter 97: The Genius’s Plan
Davey had been pondering one question for a long time—how could he completely cleanse his identity?
Though he now appeared to have obtained legal status, it wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny. In the final act of his past life’s story, when the Federal Bureau of Investigation was established, even John—who had long since retired—was forced by Ross to hunt down the remaining members of the Van der Linde Gang, with threats made against his family.
For Davey, if he ever set foot in the civilized cities of the East, his so-called legal identity would be a joke. Too many people could use federal law against him, and his moonshine business alone was enough to earn him a host of enemies.
The United States was steadily becoming a nation ruled by law. The era of gunmen and outlaws was coming to an end. Even if a few gangs still roamed free, it was only a matter of time before they were hunted down and wiped out.
Civilization from the East was pushing steadily westward. As the frontier continued to be developed, the last traces of the Wild West would inevitably disappear.
But Davey wasn’t content with just a few fleeting years of freedom. Reality stretched far into the future.
At first, he had planned to use his wealth to infiltrate politics—climbing the social ladder until he was powerful enough to free himself from his outlaw past. He imagined that even after the FBI’s establishment, they would be powerless against him.
But now, after encountering the old veteran Mickey, a better idea struck him.
He could form a Veterans Union.
In the United States, unions held immense political power. They could influence legislation and even sway the elections of congressmen, governors, and presidents. It was a defining feature of American politics.
After the Civil War, countless disabled veterans had returned home. Their sheer numbers made it impossible for the government to properly support them. As a result, many were left begging, wandering, or living in poverty.
They were even given a bitter nickname—“vagrants in uniform.”
This situation persisted until 1944, when the United States finally passed the Veterans’ Rights Act, bringing real improvements.
Why had no one ever tried what Davey was now imagining? The answer was simple—profit.
Most veterans had no employable skills, and investing in them brought no financial return. No sensible businessman would spend money on something so unprofitable.
But Davey’s situation was different. He had money, but no legitimate authority.
If he could organize a Veterans Union, he could gain political leverage from another angle—shaping legislation and influencing elections.
And under those circumstances, why would he ever need to fear the FBI again?
Perhaps one day, Ross—the FBI’s Western Bureau Chief—would have to greet him respectfully as “Mr. Callander.”
Of course, such things couldn’t happen overnight. There were hundreds of thousands of veterans across the country. Even the government couldn’t afford to fully support them, let alone Davey.
According to federal budget standards, it would cost tens of millions of dollars at least.
So this plan had to be carried out gradually.
Besides, Davey didn’t need to pay the veterans directly. All he had to do was establish a veterans’ club, take in as many as he could, and steadily build his influence among them.
At the right moment, he would formalize the Veterans Union, lobbying the government for veterans’ benefits and using the union’s influence to strengthen his own position.
“I really am a genius…”
After mulling over the details, Davey couldn’t help but chuckle in admiration at his own plan.
The first step was simple—secure a building, take in a number of veterans, and provide them with free food and drinks. That was hardly a burden for him.
Take Mickey, for instance. Even if he was just pretending to be a veteran, what did it matter?
If anyone discovered the truth, they’d only praise Davey’s generosity.
Besides, not all veterans lived in poverty. Some still held influence in the military.
And those men, seeing Davey’s kindness toward veterans, would naturally respect him and feel a sense of loyalty.
In the long run, Davey might even win support from within the army itself.
And when that day came, who would dare care about a wanted man who just happened to share the name and face of Mr. Land?
...
Horseshoe Overlook
By the time Mac arrived, it was already eight in the evening.
Of course, the gang members weren’t the early-to-bed type—they preferred sleeping in come morning.
“Oh, Mac, you’re back already. Did Davey toss you out again to rest up?”
Bill’s mocking voice carried across the camp. Everyone knew about Mac’s past blunders.
“Shut up, Bill. I’ve got important news.”
Ignoring him, Mac strode straight toward Dutch, shouting as he went:
“Dutch! Dutch! You’re in trouble!”
“That guy you robbed—the one named Cornwall—he’s here in Valentine.”
“And he’s planning how to deal with you.”
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