The worker recruitment process, a brutal two-hour crucible of hope and despair, finally concluded. The 150 chosen women didn't merely run; they fled home, their elation a raw, disbelieving shriek.
Some wept tears of pure, unadulterated joy, others screamed with a manic, almost possessed glee. They vanished as if swept away by a divine wind. Those left behind, however, withered like frost-bitten plants, their spirits crushed into dust. Some simply collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably, while others swayed, too distraught to even walk.
This scene, for the era, was no exaggeration. The benefits Dutch had unleashed were simply too good to be true, so impossibly generous that they promised to transform entire families, lifting them from destitution to immediate, comfortable prosperity. A mere thirty dollars a month, with full board, could sustain an entire household, young and old, in a life of unimaginable decency.
Had Ms. Alice not possessed the foresight to summon a detachment of police, the raw desperation might have ignited into bloody, frantic chaos. These long-suffering poor, pushed to their absolute limits, saw this single, fragile ray of hope, and they would have fought with bloodshot eyes, to the death, to claim it.
Dutch meticulously recorded the names of every recruited employee. Then, with a voice that cut through the lingering despair, he delivered another strategic blow, a promise to the women who had been left behind.
"Ladies, ladies who were not chosen in this wave, please do not succumb to despair! Do not lose heart! Our recruitment is not a singular event; our factory will expand relentlessly in the future, and more recruitment drives will undoubtedly take place!
So, I implore you, go home, and wait patiently. When we next recruit, Ms. Dorothea, Ann, and Ms. Alice will still be the ones to notify you. Pay close attention to the news from the Women's Association! All future recruitment announcements from our factory will be released on the Women's Association's platform!"
Dutch's words, a calculated crescendo of benefit, utterly shattered the composure of Ms. Dorothea, Ann, and Ms. Alice. Damn it! The news would be exclusively released on the Women's Association's platform!
Dutch's recruitment conditions were so utterly superior that today's events would undoubtedly ignite a wildfire of whispers, spreading rapidly through Saint Denis, Rhodes, and indeed, across the entire state of Louisiana.
And by then, countless women, desperate for a chance at salvation, would obsessively follow the Women's Association's every move, ravenously devouring every scrap of news, every hint of Dutch's next recruitment drive. This would undeniably bring enormous exposure and massive, fervent support to the Women's Association! For the feminist movement! All according to his plan!
If printing their deeds on clothing labels was a mere taste of sweetness, this revelation delivered a staggering, Earth-sized cake directly into their hands. It made their minds reel, utterly disoriented, almost uncontrollable in their ecstasy.
Their eyes, fixed on Dutch, burned with an unholy fervor. They couldn't fathom how this man consistently conjured such brilliant, world-altering ideas! He had, with seemingly little effort, made them incredibly rich; his sagacity was beyond their wildest comprehension!
Ms. Dorothea, Ann, and Ms. Alice completely transformed into Dutch's rabid fangirls, trailing him, showering him with hyperbolic praise. From an initial sense of their own superior status, to a perceived equality, they had now utterly subjugated themselves, regarding Dutch as a saint.
Dutch truly was a godlike, for every single idea he had presented, from the very beginning until now, was a masterpiece! A textbook operation!
This fervent admiration was not confined to the three ladies. Every member of the Van der Linde Gang now looked upon Dutch with a renewed, almost religious fervor.
If the old Dutch had commanded charisma through chivalry, this new Dutch, with his blazing intellect, had become the undeniable ruler of the Van der Linde Gang!
He gave himself a pat on the back gor the 'good' work he did.
Ms. Camille, standing silently nearby, watched Dutch with an unceasing sparkle in her eyes, the look of interest on her face almost solidified into stone. She, however, still had pressing matters to attend to, and so made no further overt moves.
Meanwhile, Ms. O'Shea genuinely cultivated a strong rapport with the three ladies, spending the afternoon in Saint Denis on a lavish shopping excursion.
Time, a relentless river, flowed onward, until five o'clock in the afternoon.
"Choo-choo-choo-choo…" The train whistle shrieked, a mournful lament, and black smoke belched from its chimney. With a piercing wail, the train slowly lurched forward, carrying its precious cargo of one hundred sewing machines, vast quantities of raw materials, and one hundred and fifty new employees towards Valentine.
Dutch stood on the train, waving a triumphant goodbye to Ms. Dorothea, Ann, Alice, and Ms. Camille, who had come to see them off. The factory was not yet operational, the clothing store still unopened, so they would not join this trip. However, they had already pledged to attend a grand ribbon-cutting ceremony in Valentine when the clothing store finally launched.
This was at Dutch's specific request. Having promised Sheriff Malloy something to eagerly anticipate, Dutch intended to ensure that anticipation was fully realized, lest the Sheriff's crucial loyalty waver. A person's integrity, Dutch believed, was paramount. A promise made, even if a pipe dream, had to be at least vividly sketched for others to see.
A long train, a steel serpent carrying the hopes of an entire carload of desperate families and the very future of the Van der Linde Gang, slowly advanced towards Valentine. After almost an entire night's journey, the train finally pulled into Valentine's station.
"John, Charles, go and book every single carriage in Valentine. And instruct these female workers and their families to help transport the sewing machines onto the carriages. Hosea, old friend, let's go. We two will head to the Valentine Police Station and borrow some officers from Sheriff Malloy. Arthur, bring some of the gifts we brought back from Saint Denis." Dutch disembarked, standing on the station platform, issuing commands with effortless authority.
"Okay, Van der Linde." Arthur moved, picking up a pile of small gifts. These weren't their purchases, but extravagant presents from Ms. Dorothea and the other ladies: high-end tobacco and alcohol, given in overwhelming quantities. Arthur selected two cartons of expensive cigarettes and two bottles of fine liquor, then followed Dutch off the train.
John and Charles received their orders and immediately headed to the stable to rent carriages. Transporting the sewing machines and the deluge of new female employees would likely require at least a full day of relentless round trips.
A police officer, patrolling near the post office, spotted Dutch and his group. His face lit up, and he jogged over, eager to greet them. "Oh, Mr. Arthur! Good morning, sir!"
Dutch smiled, returning the greeting. "Good morning, officer."
"Hey, buddy!" Arthur, trailing behind Dutch, called out, then tossed the officer a box of high-end cigarettes.
"Ah, thank you, Mr. Arthur! Thank you, Mr. Hosea!" The officer beamed, jogging over to act as Dutch's subordinate, his subservience immediate and absolute.
"Oh, officer, where is Sheriff Malloy now?" Dutch inquired, his voice smooth. "I'd like to ask him for a little help."
"Here, sir! I'll take you there!" The officer nodded, bowing deeply, fawningly leading the way. He stared at the exquisitely packaged cigarette in his hand, a brand he'd never even seen before, wishing he could prostrate himself to serve. He swelled with pride. Mr. Arthur, the recently celebrated gentleman of Valentine, treated him with such courtesy; it was an unparalleled honor!
Dutch and the other two followed the officer towards the Valentine Police Station. Along the way, every police officer they encountered jogged over, eagerly greeting Dutch.
After all, this was their patron, the man who would grant them a free set of clothes every year once the clothing store was built! Dutch smiled, responding to each, while Arthur, behind him, distributed cigarettes box by box, depleting an entire carton. This carton was for the officers; another carton and two bottles of fine liquor were reserved for Sheriff Malloy, a grand gesture for him to boast about.
Valentine would serve as their primary base, and in this town, they needed to spend lavishly, strategically. They had to win over the hearts of the entire Valentine community. Only then could they ensure absolute stability in the critical, later stages of their plan.
Dutch believed that true merchants always prioritized harmony, and that using small gains to secure massive profits was the very essence of their trade. If one was unwilling to part with modest sums, then truly colossal gains would remain forever beyond reach.
The higher the risk the higher tge reward!