May There Be a Road: Stories: A Novel by Louis L'Amour (English) Mass Market Pap

Description: May There Be a Road: Stories by Louis L'Amour SPIRITED AMERICAN STORIESGATHERED TOGETHER FOR THE FIRST TIMEFrom the coasts of Brazil to the borders of Tibet to the very heartland of America, May There Be a Road gathers ten previously uncollected stories that capture the magnificent scope and sense of epic adventure that epitomize Louis L'Amour classic fiction.In these vivid settings L'Amour takes us into the pivotal moments when lives are altered forever, when men and women face a deadly enemy, find a kindred spirit, or confront their own mortality.Among the unforgettable characters we meet here are a hard-living, hard-drinking freighter captain whose penchant for flying may change the course of World War II . . . A lonely frontiersman who unexpectedly finds himself the protector of two orphans . . . A boxer who accepts a gambler's payoff and then must fight to redeem himself . . . A detective willing to believe an unproven story in order to discover a painful truth hidden in a small town. And in the title story L'Amour weaves the powerful tale of a young Tibetan khan who leads a band of horsemen on a daring escape across treacherous mountain terrain. At stake is the survival of a people and an ancient way of life.Evoking the American spirit of bravery, pride, adventure, and self-reliance as few writers have, this extraordinary volume proves once again that L'Amour has set a standard yet to be matched. FORMAT Mass Market Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description Spirited American storiesGathered together for the first timeFrom the coasts of Brazil to the borders of Tibet to the very heartland of America, May There Be a Road gathers ten previously uncollected stories that capture the magnificent scope and sense of epic adventure that epitomize Louis L'Amour classic fiction.In these vivid settings L'Amour takes us into the pivotal moments when lives are altered forever, when men and women face a deadly enemy, find a kindred spirit, or confront their own mortality.Among the unforgettable characters we meet here are a hard-living, hard-drinking freighter captain whose penchant for flying may change the course of World War II . . . A lonely frontiersman who unexpectedly finds himself the protector of two orphans . . . A boxer who accepts a gambler's payoff and then must fight to redeem himself . . . A detective willing to believe an unproven story in order to discover a painful truth hidden in a small town. And in the title story L'Amour weaves the powerful tale of a young Tibetan khan who leads a band of horsemen on a daring escape across treacherous mountain terrain. At stake is the survival of a people and an ancient way of life.Evoking the American spirit of bravery, pride, adventure, and self-reliance as few writers have, this extraordinary volume proves once again that L'Amour has set a standard yet to be matched. Author Biography LOUIS LAMOUR (1908-1988) was born in Jamestown, North Dakota. He left school at 15 to travel the world. While in his thirties, he began writing novels about life on the Western frontier. His first big success, "Hondo," was made into a John Wayne movie. LAmour wrote 100 books in all, which sold over 200 million copies worldwide, and several short stories. Review An Alternate Selection of Book-of-the-Month Club, The Literary Guild, and Doubleday Book Club Review Quote An Alternate Selection of Book-of-the-Month Club, The Literary Guild, and Doubleday Book Club Excerpt from Book A Friend of a Hero The gravel road forked unexpectedly and Neil Shannon slowed his convertible. On each side orange groves blocked his view, although to the right a steep hillside of dun-colored rock rose above the treetops. On that same side was a double gate in a graying split-rail fence. He was about fifty miles northwest of Los Angeles, lost in a maze of orchards and small farms that was split by abrupt ridges and arroyos. Neil Shannon got out of the car and walked to the gate. He was about to push it open when a stocky, hard-faced man stepped from the shrubbery. "Hold it, bud ... what do you want?" "Im looking for the Shaw place. I thought someone might tell me where it was." "The Shaw place? What do you want to go there for?" Shannon was irritated. "All I asked was the directions. If you tell me Ill be on my way." The man jerked his head to indicate direction. "Right down the fork, but if youre looking for Johnny, he aint home." "No? So where could I find him?" The man paused. "Down at Laurel Lawn, in town. Hes been dead for three days." Shannon shook out a cigarette. "You dont seem upset over losing a neighbor, Mr. Bowen." "Whered you get that name?" The man stared suspiciously at Shannon. "Its on your mailbox, in case youve forgotten. Are you Steve Bowen?" "Im Jock Perult. The Bowen boys aint around. As for Shaw, his place is just down the road there." "Thanks." Shannon opened the door of his car. "Tell me, Jock, do you always carry a pistol when youre loafing around home?" "Its for snakes, if its any of your business." He tugged his shirttail down over the butt of a small pistol. Shannon grinned at him and put the car in gear. Scarcely three hundred yards further along the gravel road on the same side was the Shaw place. Marjorie Shaw saw him drive through the gate and came out to meet him. The man who followed her from the door had a grizzle of gray beard over a hard chin and a short-stemmed pipe in his teeth. He looked at Shannon with obvious displeasure. There were formalities to be taken care of. She read the contract standing by the car and looked at his private investigators license. Finally she raised the subject of money. "Lets not worry about that right now," he told her. "Johnny Shaw was a friend of mine, Ill do what I can for a couple of days and well see where we are. Im warning you, though, on paper his death looks like an accident. Im not sure there is much I can do." "Come in, and Ill fix you a drink." As he turned to follow he caught a tiny flash of sunlight from the brush-covered hillside across the way. Then he glimpsed the figure of a man, almost concealed. A man interested enough in what was going on to watch through binoculars. Shannon glanced at the older man. "Youre Keller? How about it? Did Johnny have any enemies?" "Aint none of my affair and I dont aim to make it so," Keller replied brusquely. "Im quitting this job. Going to Fresno. Always did figure to go to Fresno." Marjorie Shaw was Johnnys sister, and though Shannon had never met her, he and John Shaw had been friends since the days before he had joined the police force. They had first met on a windy hillside in Korea. Now John was dead, his car crushed in a nearby ravine, and his sister thought that he had been intentionally killed. The inside of the house was dim and cool. Shannon sat on the plaid sofa and listened to the girl moving about the kitchen. The door to the Frigidaire opened and closed; there was the sound of a spoon in a glass pitcher. "After you called" -- he spoke to her through the doorway -- "I checked the report on the wreck. There was no indication of anything wrong. The insurance investigator agreed with the report. Clark, who investigated for the sheriffs office, said it was clearly an accident. Driving too fast or a drink too many." She came in carrying a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. "I didnt ask you out here, Mr. Shannon, to tell me what Ive already heard. However, Johnny did not drink. Furthermore, he was extremely cautious. He had never had an accident of any kind, and he had been driving over that road two or three times a day for four years. I want it looked into. For my peace of mind, if nothing else. Thats why I called you. Johnny always said you were the smartest detective on the Los Angeles police force." "Well see ... Im not with the police force any longer." After the iced tea Marjorie Shaw drove Shannon out to the site of the wreck. They cut across the property on a dirt track and headed to where the county road came over the mountain from town. Emerging from Shaws orange groves, they cut along the base of the hill. Although the car threw up a large cloud of dust, the track was well graded, and in the places where water drained, culverts had been installed. Obviously, Johnny Shaw had worked hard on his place and had accomplished a lot. Marjorie pointed off to one side. "Johnny was going to dam that canyon and make a private lake," she explained. "Then, he intended to plant trees around it." The canyon was rock-walled but not too deep. Dumped in the bottom were several junked cars. "Did he intend to take those out?" "Johnny was furious about them. He insisted the Bowens take them out, and they said that if he cared so much he could take them out himself."She paused. "This could be important, Mr. Shannon.... He tried to take it up with the county but the sheriffs and commissioners are all friends of the Bowens. I was with him when he went to the courthouse. They all got in a big fight and Johnny told that county commissioner that he would go to the DA if that was what it took and they got real quiet. After that we left. I was angry for Johnny and I didnt think about it much, but thats why I called you ... it wasnt two weeks later that Johnny died." "He mentioned the DA?" Shannon asked. "Yes, why would he do that? Over junked cars, it doesnt make sense!" "Unless he knew about something else and was making a threat." "Thats what I thought, but what could it be?" "Well, if it has something to do with his death its something that either someone in county government or the Bowen brothers dont want known." The Bowen brothers ... Shannon thought ... and their buddy Perult who carried a gun inside his shirt. They turned out onto the county road and within minutes were at the curve where Johnny had run off the cliff. She stopped the car and he got out. The afternoon shadows were long, but down below he could see the twisted mass of metal that had been Johnnys car. "Id like to go down and look around. Ill only be a few minutes." At the edge of the road, starting down, he paused briefly. There was broken glass on the shoulder. Bits of headlight glass. He picked up several fragments, and the ridges and diffusers in them were not identical. Pocketing several, he climbed and slid down the cliff. Examining the wreck, he could see why Johnny had been killed. The car had hit several times on the way down. The destruction was so complete that the sheriffs had had to use a torch to cut the body out. Surprisingly enough, one headlight was intact. Two pieces of the glass he had picked up conformed with the headlight pattern. The others did not. The police and ambulance crew had left a lot of tracks, but there was another set that stood off to the side, and they turned off down the canyon. In two places other tracks were superimposed upon them. Curious, he followed the tracks down the canyon where they met with the tracks of someone who had waited there. He was back beside Johnnys car when there was a sharp tug at his hat and an ugly whap as something struck the frame and whined angrily away. Shannon dropped and rolled to the protection of some rocks. In the distant hills there was the vague echo of a gunshot. It could have been a spent bullet ... from someone hunting or shooting targets in the hills. Yet he knew it was nothing of the sort. That bullet had been fired by a man who meant to kill or, at least, warn. If he tried to get back up to the road, he might be shot. He glanced up. Marjorie Shaw stood at the cliffs edge, looking down. "Get into the car," he called, just loud enough for her to hear, "and drive to the filling station on the highway. Wait there for me, in plain sight, with people around." She looked pale and frightened when he got there a half hour later. His suit was stained with red clay and he showed her his hat. "I called the sheriff," she said. They heard the siren, and Deputy Sheriff Clark drew up. It was he whom Shannon had talked to about the accident. He chuckled. "You city cops!" he scoffed. "That shot was probably fired by a late hunter, maybe a mile off. Now dont come down here trying to stir up trouble when theres no cause for it. Why would anyone try to kill someone investigating an accident?" "What do you know about the Bowen outfit?" Clark was bored. "Now look. Dont you go bothering people up here. The Bowens have got them a nice little place. They pay their taxes and mind their own business. Furthermore, the Bowens are rugged boys and want to be left alone." "Didnt Johnny Shaw complain about them once?" Clark was annoyed. "Suppose he did? Shaw was some kind of a hero in the Details ISBN0553583999 Author Louis LAmour Short Title MAY THERE BE A ROAD Publisher Bantam Language English ISBN-10 0553583999 ISBN-13 9780553583991 Media Book Format Mass Market Paperback DEWEY FIC Year 2002 Publication Date 2002-04-30 Country of Publication United States Alternative 9780553713152 Birth 1908 Death 1988 Place of Publication New York Residence US Imprint Bantam Dell Publishing Group, Div of Random House, Inc Subtitle A Novel Pages 336 DOI 10.1604/9780553583991 Audience General/Trade UK Release Date 2002-04-30 We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:139196070;

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