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Can Frank Rivers clear his name of his father’s murder? Frank Rivers had served four years in the penitentiary for the murder of his father in the commission of a stagecoach robbery. There had been a witness that could not be found at the time of the trial but whose testimony four years later was sufficient for Rivers to receive a full pardon. But for Rivers the matter is scarcely ended. He wants to find the real culprits behind the crime. His search leads him to Ute Springs where he immediately comes to the notice of Sheriff Jim Echols, who believes that Rivers committed the crime and that he bribed his way into being granted a pardon. When Rivers witnesses the murder of his prime suspect, he has a tough decision to make. Flee and be blamed or stay and be blamed. Rider on the Buckskin once again shows off Dawson’s writing chops, justifying his reputation as one of the most respected Western writers of all time.
Buckskin Mose : or, Life From the Lakes to the Pacific, as Actor, Circus-Rider, Detective, Ranger, Gold-Digger, Indian Scout, and Guide. Actor, trapper, scout, gold-digger, and guide, my life, very unlike that of most of my readers, has been one of plenty of change and adventure, but certainly not of money-making. They say "A rolling stone gathers no moss." I have had good reason to feel this proverbial truth, having been a wanderer on the face, if not of this earth, at all events, of this continent. My earliest recollection, which is worth my own remembrance, is a decidedly unpleasant one. When no more than eight years of age I was connected with the Circus of Dan Rice. Necessarily, I was a very unimportant member of it; and not feeling that it was in every respect what I thought a circus-life ought to be, I took it into my head to run away from it. Before I had covered sufficient ground to get out of the agent's reach, he caught me, and I had the gratification of being very well and soundly flogged. The smart of this judicial visitation upon my skin still recurs to me at times, and renders the locality in Kentucky, where the flogging took place, a very sore spot in my memory. I consequently will not name it. In spite of this escapade, I gradually became a proficient in bare-back riding, vaulting, on the slack-rope and in the trapeze-performance, excelling all the boys attached to the circus, and in consequence became the pet of Old Dan, with whom I remained for three years. My youthful ambition to shine in this career was, however, brought to an untimely close. An uncle of mine discovered me on the Mississippi, and immediately wrote to my father, who, at the time I left home, had been the landlord of the United States Hotel in Galena. Making a somewhat wrathful pilgrimage in search of his missing offspring, he caught up with me at some small place in Kentucky, reclaimed me from the vocation of my choice, and after taking me home and chastising me in a truly parental fashion, bound me out as an apprentice to the village blacksmith. It would be needless to say, that the forge was by no means as pleasant an occupation, to my youthful mind, as the daring life on the sawdust of the arena. Some six months after, I forgot the parental scourge, and wrote a letter to the manager of Older and Orton's Circus, which was then performing at Portage City, Wisconsin. What sort of a letter it was, I can now scarcely tell. But my education had not been remarkable in its extent, and it may be presumed the orthography as well as the calligraphy, possibly, astonished him who received it. If so, he never mentioned the fact to me, but returned me a favorable answer. Consequently, I once more made tracks, and joined them for the season.
After the death of his sister, cowboy Print Ritter and his young nephew find adventure while driving horses to Wyoming, and attempt to rescue five young Chinese girls from being forced into prostitution.
For the westerner trouble came with the territory. Long grass valleys, merciless deserts, sheer rock cliffs, icy streams, hidden trails, dusty towns. These were the proving grounds of daily life. At any time violence could explode and on the frontier there was no avoiding its sudden terrible impact. In this collection of his stories Louis L’Amour guides us to some of these untamed places where men and women faced the challenge of survival. And for the first time, L’Amour also presents a selection of riveting scenes from western history that are every bit as exciting as his stories.
Young Jim Moran never had a real family-but his sense of honor and razor-sharp instincts earned him a loyal partner who gave him a second chance, a home with a Montana Indian tribe, and a new name: Rider Twelve Horses. And when his friend is brutalized by a trio of killers, nothing can stop Rider's merciless search for justice.
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