By Louis L'Amour
Callaghen’s company is soldiering. For two decades he’d fought around the world, from China to the deserts of California; now he’s a personal within the U.S. Cavalry, poorly paid, his enlistment approximately to expire. He’s able to stream on…until he comes throughout a startling discovery: a treasure map belonging to a useless lieutenant who won't were all that he appeared. The map issues the best way to an underground river of gold…or does it? to determine, Callaghen should struggle the hardest battle of his existence: opposed to a fierce Indian warrior, a vindictive commanding officer, and a ruthless gang of outlaws who’ll flip what could be a river of gold right into a river of blood.
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Extra info for Callaghen: A Novel
Come on,” Callaghen muttered. “Maybe not with a rifle, but with this pistol—” The men behind him had stopped, but he turned, got behind them and drove them on, cursing hoarsely, waving his rifle. Befuddled as he was, he could still see there were no tracks. Tracks meant water, they were fingers pointing the way to it; no tracks meant no water…But there had to be water. He peered ahead, and saw that the Indians were not much over two hundred yards off now. He plodded on, keeping the men together.
The lieutenant had taken them farther north than Callaghen had at first believed—too far north. As he walked Callaghen began for the first time to think about that young lieutenant, suddenly puzzled by incongruities. It was the Delaware’s comment that had started his curiosity, but now he found more and more to puzzle about. So many things had indicated the lieutenant was new to the West and to the desert, and yet he had obviously guided their march by certain landmarks. These might have been given him by their commanding officer except that he, too, was new to this country.
His time here was short—only a few days longer. He had forgotten to sew on his stripes, forgotten to mention them. Well, no matter. In a few days he would be free of the army, and he could go wherever he wished. But where? Back to Ireland? Back to Boston? What was there for him in either place? Boston was just a city where he had stopped for a time…and there had been so many other cities, other places. He was used to the army way, and it had been a long time since there had been any other, except for short periods.