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Show SOUTH CACHE COURIER, IIYRUM, UTAH mocked as he looked across the bles at the fresh paint upon the huge wooden shutters of the House Napoleon ; he flung his Jeweled fingers airily back to the shadowy Ho, fellow! The rum and limes! Be on with them, but tread softly we have a plot I The two old adventurers gazed at the slender figure In some consternation. "Plot! De Almonaster made the rafters ring with it: Threescore carpenters, plasterers and whatnot, slaves and free men of color labor all summer at this royal domicile; the very fig sellers of the Place dArmes mewl away about It to sailormen of every sea I, myself, across the Caribbean, or at Port Royal, am questioned as to what the bravos of New Orleans mean by this madness; and when I come home I am enticed to a public house, and whispered to of a plot Eh, blent ft Is a plot Old Dominique rubbed his nose. We have the money, the ship, the spirit, the well, everything. Except the emperor! Bonaparte, cooped up on his isle with England watching! Pray, good sirs who will bell the cat? The admiral shrugged and tasted his limed rum of Barbadoes. The young De Almonaster heard two dolorous sighs. It was, Indeed, a quiet life and a shameful pass when two worthy buccaneers of but a decade agone sat at their drink to be jibed by an Incredulous aristocrat. Eh, will mumbled old Dominique absently. If Jean were here he would go rescue Napoleon for these Creoles. Ho, old cutthroat, If the Captain Lafltte walked these streets again there would be an end to chatter! Eh, the old days! The good wine and the plunder down the Barataria passes! And I name of God! am now the alderman for the American quarter I" The shadows lengthened across the cobbles to the pretentious House Napoleon. The dim front barroom of La Bourse de Maspero was quite deserted, save for a table of provincial planters from the river parishes here and there. But suddenly the drone of voices from the gaming place In the rear was cut off by a slamming door. A man had staggered out Tall, uncouth, of disorderly attire, not at all In the fashion, ragged at the sleeves he stared at them with swollen eyes CAPTAIN tap-roo- SAZARAC B- y- Charles Tenney Jackson Illustration by Irwin Myers 1 Copyright by The Company Bobbe-Mettl- LAFITTEl" again not Irons, and then for the first fellow the yard-arThe older who disputes my wilL be told. beads will not needs The English woman first alter y Mon-file- ur Almon-aste- rs am Lafltte 6azaracl m de that, as it is Monsieur citihonor to his fellowBonafor of Louisiana zens anm.a TO with a look at the master which drew, in turn, a glance of impenetrable reserve. This is a stirring tale of the picturesque days when the young Creole bloods of New Orleans rerallied around Lafltte the doubtable pirate of Barataria fame Bay who won Imperishable of Andrew by coming to the aid Jackson when that warrior beat oft the British at New Orleans and planned the from St. rescue of Napoleon .'is ja red-head- ed Helena. "I have been hailed a hero by the city, pardoned and acclaimed for service in the new Republic, denounced again and harried from the seas, to be once more a fugitive! says Lafltte and chooses to come back as "Captain Sazarac," only to have his heart stirred by a lovely face which leads him to the Plot Napoleon. The author Charles Tenney Jackson, has achieved a number of deservedly popular and wide-rea- d novels. Queerly enough, though he is by birth and education a northerner, he has reproduced most wonderfuly the atmosphere of those New Orleans days before the Tankee came to destroy romance days when fair ladles were still the cause of many a duel and high gambling went with high station. CHAPTER If Jean Were Here. to had taken the slightest inthe name of his aunt, the Baroness Pontalba, was upon the lips of the portly alderman of Old New Orleans; and when, In turn. Beluche, the swarthy admiral of thfe Cartagenian privateers, adverted to her, the languid aristocrat shook with laughter. Ho, Monsieur Dominique! You, the fat and prosperous counselor of the American quarter who, they say, finds the citys politics even better picking than were your days of piracy with Jean Lafltte you, you, then, It was, who enticed my good aunt to giving ten thousand of the new Yankee dollars to build the house in which Napoleon Is to spend his last days on the rue Chartres ! And you Beluche for whom, even today, any will flag serve A grand scheme, this, to rescue Bonaparte from the English What next for us fantastic Creterest. But now I I oles? Monsieur! Not so loud, I I An affair of state, this, and half beg the gentry of Louisiana Is In it But the new governor eh, blen At where the English are received. It might be embarrassing this plot But De Almonaster shouted the louder. The admiral of Cartagena spluttered ; the honest councilor rubbed his velvet-clapaunch and Pleaded for silence. The young mans glance went from the two e buccaneers out the door of Masperos xchange to the shining new plaster and green shutters of the House Na- ,hls hand wen to the black !lk stock at his neck to check fur-I Washington, now so well d one-tim- er amusement. Eln!tCheT6h0rt darkrestlessly his black eyes nar-,f he Would be with talk 8ea again growled lilv of the New Granada ?. m gkt be, but to his old e nies nf s he was still Ro, pirateJaw!an gunner who fought the on the right of Iinb v soil' 6 Chalmette against the . he made as wry a face as the grateful'88168 lleutenants when North 7 young republic of the Pardoned the buccaneers en masse f A f - about, de sur-rebP- cro-th- coffee-house- Jack-Brifi-- Worthy Alderman Slghed a the younger Proodest tL'ay Doml-5r- s mans Monsieur, tha- t- " of Louisiana you Wri generusly to the plot Pint AgnlL the Count Raoul Would that the glasses quivered Be discreet! our plot Napoleon! The two former buccaneers looked The devil take you, wryly at him. Jarvis, growled Beluche, It was of old days, and our vanished captain. You, yourself whom Jean rescued from perdition once The plot I shouted Jarvis so loudly that even bystanders across the cobbled way looked Into the shadowy portals of Masperos. Ah, I am going to my studio, gentlemen! I have an idea! My new assistant is very clever at painting birds Monsieur Audubon Is crazy to paint birds I He sprinkles salt on their tails to catch them. Now I shall take our plot to the studio, and Monsieur Audubon shall paint salt upon It to catch the Emperor Napoleon. The two worthies glowered npon him. De Almonasters Idle laugh rang out. He, too, arose with Jarvis, and the latter could not resist a last gibe at his cronies. The alderman and the admiral and In the one picture that I cared about, done down at red fort before the Americans plundered it, I had the bad taste to paint them In with my captain What a downfall! from piracy to politics for Dominique; and old Beluche blustering about having a lawful commission He put an unsteady finger on the laughing De Almonasters sleeve: "Come on, Raoul There Is no more romance since Lafltte abandoned the town to the steamboat Yankees; and yet, last evening, upon the Esplanade, I saw a womans face. I Raoul unshaven, dirty, Idle looked back at her coach. I, Raoul hanging to a lamp-pomade her smile! De Almonaster motioned the Jester toward the gaming rooms. The lady who arrived with the British colonel's party? Of course I am told she had the gallants astir when she drove. Jarvis nodded absently: They are wishing no bad luck to Colonel Carr beyond 4hat this Sazarac shoots him tomorrow at the Oaks. Eh, well 1 1 1 1 Grand Scheme, Bonaparte From the English What Next for Us Fantastic Creoles? d face. The empty set in a scabbard of a small sword rattled at his silken-line- d his muddy cloak and round velvet cap gave him the aspect of a rather solemn and nervous poseur. He saw the Devil take the dlcej De Almonaster, and came elegant Back with me, Raoul nearer: briskly Watch! An affair, Raoul, that will call me out to the Oaks sleepy-eyesome morning this week. The strancolonel ger, Sazarac, has the English someI wish I Sazarac A bewitched, all draw could drink more than thing eh fellow, A pistoling eyes to' me! blen John JarvB thrust his blinking eyes nearer: A rapier bully, Messieurs such as this Sazarac . . . theres a woman In it without doubt. The towns first bohemian of the arts and letters, a graceless scribbler, painter wastrel of the of the great for all he was the nephew He slept, in England. John Wesley worked and ate in a dirty studio up as on the rue Conti, where, unknown a t to the world, there labored backwho painted young assistant but who grounds for Jarvis portraits, the gamewhen was destined for fame Orsters and politicians of the New forgotleans of 1821 had been long arten Monsieur Audubon, but lately rived from the Indies. Jarvis tipped the table for a drink, pay looking about to see who might grunted. I the score. "Pistols- -" he the trust this Sazarac wings I Britisher shall see at least, though If he does, not blood. and veins his liquor from I The fellow can drink more than A boot-top- s; d I wine-shop- s, 5 Pass. Sedan 860 f. o. b. Flint, Mich. 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Dealers and Service Stations Everywhere La-fltt- come Eroin the door they could see the throng in La Bourse de Maspero. The wide door of the small room' was packed with silent, attentive youths. Jarvis twitched the coat of the What has happened, De nearest. the devil still dicing as Is Marigny? to which to .take? Young Ma"Carr loses steadily. fame attained but recently had rigny by naming a street' of the Faubourg Marigny his patrimony now being cut into lots and sold to the Insatiable Americans outside the city walls Rue de Bagatelle, to commemorate his losses at the game. He therefore bottle-gree- n parted the skirts of his hands his upon his coat, thrust This, to Rescue breeches of snow-whit- e leather and I drink-flushe- American so denly, st I The affair was one In which, this point, the young Count de ... which Is Intolerable. It reflects on I shall chalmy reputation. lenge, myself. If Sazarac does not! They are to fight? queried De Almonaster languidly. They will. I know the course of these affairs. I attend them all. Raoul. I am the black buzzard who Is earliest to roost at the Dueling Oaks and wish them bad luck ail. The first bohemian of the Yleux Carre rubbed his nose: Anothef drink. Monsieur? Wait we shall go in presently when the affair becomes provocative. This Sazarac has a steady eye, and Colonel Carr Is bent upon an Insult. De Almonaster shrugged his distaste: I was speaking of the new sugar process at Monsieur Bore returned Jarvis airily. Oh, no I You were discussing the plot. Why sit with Dominique, the alderman, and Beluche, the admiral, save upon our nice intrigue? Hoi he reared sud- tapped them significantly: A ruined man. Eh, blen! The British consul. Langhorne, protested, seemingly very uncomfortable at Colonel Carrs Insistence at play with this Captain Sazarac, who, it Is said, is a mere professional gambler of the river packets with the manners of a gentleman. 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