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Product Description Unsurpassed for sheer storytelling excitement, Louis L’Amour’s tales of adventure continue in this new paperback series. Whether joining an American captain navigating a cargo ship through pirate-infested Japanese-controlled waters during World War II or marveling at the resourcefulness of a young woman pushed to the limits of endurance as she flees a killer through a primeval forest, these adrenaline-fueled tales of mystery, suspense, murder, and survival will keep your heart pounding long after their final pages. From stories numbering just a few intense pages to novella-length works, the tales in this action-packed anthology bear all the trademarks of the master’s touch: the historical accuracy, memorable characters, and timeless themes that have earned L’Amour his unique place among American authors. About the Author Our foremost storyteller of the American West, Louis L’Amour has thrilled a nation by chronicling the adventures of the brave men and woman who settled the frontier. There are more than three hundred million copies of his books in print around the world. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. East of Gorontalo Ponga Jim Mayo leaned against the hogshead of tobacco and stared out at the freighter. His faded khaki suit was rumpled, his heavy jaw unshaven. The white-topped cap carried the label “Captain” in gold lettering, but Ponga Jim looked like anything but a master mariner, and felt even less like one. Being broke was a problem anywhere. In Gorontalo it became an emergency of the first water. Everything he owned in the world was on him, from the soft, woven-leather shoes on his feet to the white-topped cap to the big Colt automatic in its shoulder holster. Jim pushed his cap back on his head and glanced at Major Arnold, sitting on a bitt at the edge of the wharf. In his neat white drill and military mustache he could have been nothing but a British officer. “Tell me, William,” Jim said, “just what brings a big-shot intelligence officer to Celebes? Something in the wind?” “You get around a lot, don’t you?” Major William Arnold lighted a cigarette and glanced up at Jim. “Yeah, when I can.” Ponga Jim grinned. “Right now I’m on the beach, and it looks like I’m not getting off for a while. But there isn’t much in the Indies I don’t know.” Arnold nodded. “I know. You might do me some good, Jim. If you see anything suspicious, give me a tip, will you? There’s a rumor around that while England’s busy in Europe, there will be a move to pick up some of her colonies in the Far East. This is a Dutch colony, but we’re cooperating.” “Then,” Mayo said thoughtfully, nodding his head toward the broadbeamed, battered tramp freighter, “you might add her to your list of suspects.” “That’s the Natuna out of Surabaya, isn’t it? Didn’t you used to be her skipper?” “Yeah.” Ponga Jim shifted his position to let the breeze blow under his coat. He was wearing a gun, and the day was hot. “Then the company sold her to Pete Lucieno, and I quit. I wouldn’t work for that dope peddler on a bet. I’m no lily of the valley, and frankly, I’m not making any boasts about being above picking up a slightly illegal dollar—I’ve made some of your British pearl fisheries out of season before now, and a few other things—but I draw the line at Pete’s kind of stuff.” “No love lost, I guess?” Arnold squinted up at Jim, smiling. “Not a bit. He’d consider it a privilege to cut my heart out. So would Dago Frank, that majordomo of his, or Blue Coley. And I don’t fancy them.” Major Arnold soon left, walking back up toward the club. Ponga Jim lighted a cigarette and stared thoughtfully at the Natuna. Then his eyes shifted to the other ship in port, a big white freighter, the Carlsberg. Although there were three or four schooners, and a scattering of smaller craft, it was the two freighters that held his attention. “Now, William,” he said whimsically, “you should never miss a bet. Bein