Winter William West. Louisiana Lou. A Western Story
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER I. A GENERAL DEMOTED
CHAPTER II. MORGAN LA FEE
CHAPTER III. A SPORTING PROPOSITION
CHAPTER IV. HEADS! I WIN!
CHAPTER V. A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE
CHAPTER VI. WHERE THE DESERT HAD BEEN
CHAPTER VII. MAID MARIAN GROWN UP
CHAPTER VIII. GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS
CHAPTER IX. BEHIND PRISON BARS
CHAPTER X. THE GET-AWAY
CHAPTER XI. JIM BANKER HITS THE TRAIL
CHAPTER XII. A REMINDER OF OLD TIMES
CHAPTER XIII. AT WALLACE’S RANCH
CHAPTER XIV. READY FOR ACTION
CHAPTER XV. THE SHERIFF FINDS A CLEW
CHAPTER XVI. IN THE SOLITUDES OF THE CANYON
CHAPTER XVII. THE SECRET OF THE LOST MINE
CHAPTER XVIII. TELLTALE BULLETS
CHAPTER XIX. THE FINDING OF SUCATASH
CHAPTER XX. LOUISIANA!
CHAPTER XXI. GOLD SEEKERS
CHAPTER XXII. VENGEANCE!
CHAPTER XXIII. TO THE VALE OF AVALON
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The general of division, De Launay, late of the French army operating in the Balkans and, before that, of considerable distinction on the western front, leaned forward in his chair as he sat in the Franco-American banking house of Doolittle, Rambaud & Cie. in Paris. His booted and spurred heels were hooked over the rung of the chair, and his elbows, propped on his knees, supported his drooping back. His clean-cut, youthful features were morose and heavy with depression and listlessness, and his eyes were somewhat red and glassy. Under his ruddy tan his skin was no longer fresh, but dull and sallow.
Opposite him, the precise and dapper Mr. Doolittle, expatriated American, waved a carefully manicured hand in acquired Gallic gestures as he expatiated on the circumstances which had summoned the soldier to his office. As he discoursed of these extraordinary matters his sharp eyes took in his client and noted the signs upon him, while he speculated on their occasion.
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Doolittle shook his head as he rose. “At any rate,” he said, regretfully, “you may draw to whatever extent you wish and whenever you wish. And, if America should call you again, our house in New York, Doolittle, Morton & Co., will be happy to afford you every banking facility, general.”
De Launay waved his hand. “I’ll make a will and leave it in trust for charity,” he said, “with your firm as trustee. And forget the titles. I’m nobody, now, but ex-cow hand, ex-gunman, once known as Louisiana, and soon to be known no more except as a drunken souse. So long!”