"Look alive, you men! It's the colonel!"
The crowd opened up, and two men came through.
One of them, short, skinny, wearing a coonskin cap and a blue officer's coat, came up to White Bear and peered at him.
"I know you!"
Half his teeth were rotten and the rest were missing. White Bear knew him too. Eli Greenglove.
"By God, Raoul! I'll be a son of a bitch if it ain't that half-breed nephew of yours."
And there stood Raoul de Marion, gold epaulets glittering on his broad shoulders.
At the sight of that broad face with the black mustache, last seen looking at him over a pistol barrel, White Bear knew his life was about to end.
Could my luck be any worse?
All hope vanished as light faded from the sky.