William Heuman Boeken

"Standing out in front of the Elkhorn National Bank, unshaven, his black hair beginning to curl at his neck, his clothing about as badly worn as that of any of the trail riders who'd come up with him from Texas, Emmett Kane definitely did not look like a man who had a bank draft for twelve thousand dollars in his shirt pocket. It was no surprise that Madge Wilson offered him a job as a ranch hand. What was a surprise was when a cowboy warned him not to take the job. Emmett had no plans, but he didn't particularly relish the thought of a cold Wyoming winter. On the other hand, something about the young woman intrigued him and it sounded like she might be in trouble. Already, the idea was forming in his mind that he would take his time about returning to Texas and see what this new land had to offer- even if what it had to offer turned out to be a range war."-- Provided by publisher

Meet Flint MacKeithan, the saddle tramp, who fought viciously, loved deeply, and whose gun wrote a savage chapter in New Mexico's stormy history. The turmoil and the glory of the old West come back to life in this memorable novel by William Heuman.

Here is a raw chapter from the old West. A story of action, conflict, blood, and bullets. a story of strong men, and one among them - Kern Harlan.

About twenty nester families were camped in a grove south of Rawdon — all set to spread out into the neighboring valleys. The cattlemen knew if the nesters were allowed to move onto their ranges, more would come, and it would spell the end of their way of life. So the Cattleman's Association sent for Mulvane.

"As marshal and sheriff of four different hell-on-wheels boom towns during the past seven years, Merritt Kane had often thought of settling on a small ranch in Broken Bow. He's about to realize his dream, but news that the railroad is coming is changing the town and someone wants Kane dead"--

Mulvane rode out of the mountains and up the main street of hell. He was a tall man, riding easy, but there was the proud, watchful look of a hawk in his eyes and a steel-spring force in the way he moved

The town was tough, like its men - only Buchman could be tougher. He rode into Rawdon with the look of a hunter. He had come to kill a gun name Fogarty. When that was done there was the matter of his brother's ranch, of the beautiful woman who ran it now, and the son of a reptile who ramrodded her crew.