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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

All
I know is that Coombs is a big ruffian, but too cowardly to commit
murder. The Creole might, and I would n't trust Sallie with a knife on
a dark night, but, in my judgment, there are others involved about whom
we know nothing."
"You mean there is a band? that we have stumbled into a rendezvous of
outlaws?"
"I suspicion so. This plantation has been practically abandoned for
years. Even when the Judge was alive he lived in town, and could get
no negroes to work out here because they believed the place was
haunted. A bayou comes within a hundred yards of the rear of the
house, so concealed by trees and weeds as to be almost invisible until
you stand on the banks. We are only a little over twenty miles from
the Gulf. Altogether this would make an ideal hiding place for Mobile
or New Orleans thieves. I don't say this is the solution, but it may
be. More likely they will prove to be a local gang, smugglers, or
moonshiners with a touch of modern piracy on the side."
"What do you mean to do?"
The question was asked quietly, and I glanced at her, noting the color
had returned to her cheeks.
"I? Why remain and ferret it out, I suppose," and I laughed. "I was
never very good at running away, and really I must get at the bottom of
this affair.


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