

Six Bullets of Separation

The deadliest versus the meanest.

May the worst man win.

By Alan VanMeter

Copyright 2015 Alan VanMeter. All rights reserved.

Dedicated to the men and women who tamed, and civilized the

Wild West. Though there were many who wrought chaos, and

murder during these times, the people eventually rose above

these harbingers of evil, and order prevailed for a while. Enough

time for cities to grow.

Table of contents:

Chapter 1: 8

Chapter 2: 21

Chapter 3: 34

Chapter 4: 59

Chapter 5: 75

Chapter 6: 89

Special dedication to Captain James B. Gillette. One of the good men who lived through the wild days in the west. He was a Texas Ranger for six years, then a deputy Marshal, and eventually the city Marshal of El Paso, Texas; in the bloodiest times of the city's early life. While many of the other 'lawmen' in town were outlaws themselves, and some of the worst murderers of the times, Captain Gillette was an honest man, but a tough man none the less. He earned much respect from everyone, the other gunmen included.

He who strikes a man so that he dies shall surely be put to death.

But if he did not lie in wait for him, but God let him fall into his

hand, then I will appoint you a place to which he may flee.

\- Exodus chapter 21, verses 12 & 13 -

Chapter one:

August 2nd, 1928. Skillman's Grove, near Marfa Texas.

The campfire crackled and sparks were sent in to the purple dusk as another hefty log was added to the blaze. Most everyone was done eating by then, except a couple of slow chewers that were still savoring the camp beans, biscuits, and barbeque beef brisket that was dinner. This was the Davis Mountain Cowboy Camp annual meeting, and everyone was excited to hear the guest speaker of the evening. Though he was a regular at the meetings, everyone sure loved to hear his true to life tales of the old west, as he had been at the forefront in the days of leather, steel, and lead.

After the last of the slow chewers set down their plates, then the Camp organizer stepped up to the fire and spoke loudly for all to hear.

"Welcome all you tired trail dogs, and cow catchers. This evening we have our very favorite cowboy, Texas Ranger, and living legend of the wild old west with us again. Captain James Gillett!" he proclaimed proudly.

Everyone applauded with cheers and whistles.

An old silver haired man got up and stood with a fully erect posture before the fire, and the people gathered closer, men and women both.

"Evenin' folks." He smiled easily, and his eyes shone bright with the reflection of the fire. "I sure am glad to be here for another round up with all you fine people. You know, I never thought I would've seen the changes that I have been witness to. Powerful steam locomotives that can zip down the tracks with a mile long train of cars at fifty miles an hour. First the telegraph, and now we have actual voice communication over long distances, the telephone. Automobiles, and flying machines!" He shook his head and chuckled. "I never would have guessed how far we would come. You see back in the day, things certainly weren't quite as optimistic seeming. I personally witnessed the most despicable vile evil that men can do, with my own two eyes, and by men I personally knew well. These were the gunmen, or shooters we called 'em of the wild days." Jim drew a deep breath and took several steps before continuing, "Back in seventy five, when I was just nineteen, I signed on to the Rangers for forty dollars a month. Now that doesn't seem like a lot by today's standards, but back then it was good pay. I was first stationed at Menardville, and we were supposed to be chasing the Indians, but we mainly just played cards, tossed horseshoes, and the men drank. I never did cotton to drinkin' myself, seen too many good men be buried cause of it. It'll make a rational good man into a murderous demon. Only problem is that most drunks can't fight, or shoot worth a damn when they are lit up, I did say most drunks; there are exceptions. One thing all drunks can do real well is to stop bullets, or catch 'em if ya will." Jim chuckled at that.

"The other thing some drunks are good at is plain ole' homicidal rampage. You never know what's gonna set a drunk off, and he might just walk up behind you and blow a hole in your head for no good reason at all." Jim raised his brows and let that sink in for a second or two. "Now, I'm not trying to give a sermon 'bout the evils of drinkin', but the story I am about to tell you has everything to do with it. Just two years after I signed on with the Rangers I would first meet the one true champion of Texas, the fastest, most deadly man that ever hefted a six gun. However before we meet him, I have to introduce you to the exact opposite of our champion."

Jim paused and looked around at everyone. "In seventy five, on the Clear Fork of the Brazos, just north of Abilene, a couple of the lowest of all men became neighbors. First was an hombre named John Selman, and there was never a meaner more despicable killer ever born, though he certainly didn't start out that way. He was rough, and crude as they come, and was never especially known for anything other than murder at least after the Clear Fork that is. He made friends, and partners with another fellow named John Larn. Now this fella was a smooth operator, let me tell you. A southern gent from Mobile, Alabama, and he could bend anyone's ear just the right way. At his first stop out west, in Colorado, he murdered a rancher who had rode after him when he stole one of the man's horses. Then when the local sheriff came for John, he killed him too." Jim spat some tobacco juice on the fire.

"Next he come down here into Texas, to Fort Griffin, and hired on for a trail drive into New Mexico. I guess this guy was as twisted as they come, 'cause he goes off with some of the other cowboys on a drinkin' binge and they kill three of the other drovers with them, just for the hell of it. Being that these other fellows was Mexicans, no charges were filed, that, and the trail boss was terrified of them. Still, when they get back to Fort Griffin, the boss knew he had to fire them, and he did. John Larn and his buddies went off again, riding rampage through the drovers' camp. This killed two more men, and wounded seven others. Amazingly still no charges were filed, cause the men killed were commonly known as rustlers; so nobody cared. That was just the way it was, you see, frontier justice means no justice at all." Jim smiled.

"First thing on the Brazos, John Larn got hired on by Joe Mathews, one of the big ranchers in the valley. Before you know it, ol'e Larn gets hitched to the boss's daughter, and the old man sets them up with some land. Well next ol'e Larn builds a ranch on the Clear Fork, near John Selman's place. Those two started plotting against everyone they knew of right away. They were so goddamned callous as to even shoot their ranch help when it came time to pay them. There was a long string of disappearances in the area always pointing right back to Larn or Selman. Larn even had two Mexican stone masons build a stout stone wall all around his ranch house, and he paid them with lead too. The folks around there just tolerated this behavior though, and you know what happened then? Yup, it just got worse. Ol'e Larn was as smart as they come though, and he ran fer sheriff of Shackleford County in seventy six. He won, and promised to clean up the crime in the valley. I bet you kin guess what happened."

"Yup, there was a bunch of lynching's, starting with a whole family of horse thieves he caught in their camp. Their leader's name was Joe Watson, and he had his wife Sally with him. She helped supplement the couple's income by prostitution. Well John Larn sends Sally on home to her parent's house, saying that her husband Joe would be along shortly. Then he lynches Joe and three of his buddies, sending the men's bodies home on their horses." Jim chuckled. "Yeah ol'e Larn was a real dyed in the wool killer. He liked it even, as did his partner John Selman."

"Two of Joe Watson's gang had gotten away though, and they went to Dodge City. Well, John gets warrants and goes after them, he gets them, and brings them back to Fort Griffin, promising them a fair trial. The first night back, John and his 'vigilante's' strung them both up. By that winter John Larn, John Selman, and their posse had hung another eleven men, and word got out about staying away from Shackleford County, especially among rustlers. You know, things would have been real peaceful in the Clear Fork valley, if Larn, Selman, and their gang hadn't started rustling cattle and horses themselves then. Guess they figured that since they had eliminated all their competition, why not?"" Jim spit into the fire again.

"Well they ruled high and mighty just fer a bit, until one day four of their gang got roarin' drunk and rode into Fort Griffin. They went into the Beehive Saloon, and promptly started shooting out all the lights. When deputy sheriff Bill Cruger, and the County Attorney named Jeffries tried to arrest them, guns blazed. Bill Bland, one of Larn's men, was killed outright, as was an innocent bystander. A Calvary Lieutenant named Barron was also fatally wounded. Both Cruger, and Jeffries were wounded, the later seriously. After that ol'e Larn had to resign as sheriff, as they were his deputies that started the trouble. So he went and started a range war on his neighbors in answer to his dismissal. He and his riders were night assassins, murders, rapists, torturers and butchers of humanity. This is what John Selman really regaled in, the cries of the women and children as they were slaughtered. Soon the Governor had to send in the Rangers it got so bad. They just became another target for Larn and Selman though. Larn's arrogance got the best of him eventually, as the Rangers drug the water hole on the river on his property, and found items belonging to certain missing people."

"Then he had some things to answer for, but he somehow got to the main witness against him, and they left town in a hurry. So all the charges were dropped against Larn. All the ranchers, and grangers got together and went to sheriff Cruger in Fort Griffin. One rancher testified that Larn and Selman had chased him for miles along the Brazos trying to kill him. That was enough for sheriff Cruger to get a warrant. The Sheriff was smart though, and he deputized a bunch of the Reynolds family to go with him. The Reynolds were closely related to Larn's wife. Well it worked like a charm, ol'e Larn saw the riders coming, but recognized them as his wife's family, and went to milk a cow. They arrested him there in the barn under the cow." Jim laughed.

"One of the most dangerous gunmen in the west, taken without even a whimper. Sheriff Cruger went for Selman too, but he had been tipped off by a messenger he'd sent to Larn's, and had skedaddled. Too bad, cause Selman was the most blood thirsty of the two, and things would have been different then; better maybe. Well, they tied Larn up good, and rode him up to the county seat in Albany, while Larn's wife went with them, assured of his innocence. He had too many friends in Fort Griffin to go there. They shackled him up, and put him in a wooden shack jail, as his wife was hurriedly seeking an attorney. At ten that evening the lone guard, a man named John Poe; the same fellow who was with Pat Garrett the night Pat shot and killed Billy the Kid, well he was overpowered by some vigilantes. Overpowered when he opened the door and handed the keys to the men. Nine men entered with rifles, and went to Larn's cell. One of his wife's relatives told him that they decided not to hang him. They say Larn knew, and even slightly smiled just before the nine Winchesters opened up into him. That was good riddance to one of the worst right there, Larn had left the people no choice but to kill him. But one still got away. Selman." Jim spat more tobacco juice into the coals.

"Now that murdering bastard Selman struck out west a bit, and wound up in the Pecos valley in New Mexico. There he joined up with, and quickly became the leader of a gang that called themselves the 'Rustlers.' It wasn't long before they had teamed up with several other gangs of thieves. Namely Billy the Kid and his boys, along with another band led by Tom Cooper, who was rumored to have acquired a printing press, and was making counterfeit notes then passing them. Now this group began waging a range war in addition to just rustling cattle and horses. Many a rumor was said that old John Chisum had hired the outlaws to clear his land of grangers that kept settling in. This was even though old John didn't himself have any deed or property rights at all, other than the hired guns that is. Now a-days his descendants have deed to most of the Pecos valley, thanks to some very prudent bribes by old John Chisum. Well Selman was right at home again with murdering and raping families of settlers. He didn't have any qualms about killing children either. I still can't see how supposedly respectable people, or at least supposedly civilized people can pay someone to do such things. Of course most these folk who did, ended up with bad drinkin' problems, maybe 'cause their ghosts wouldn't leave 'em alone." Jim bent his head down with a remorseful look. He looked back up with a determined gaze.

"Anyhow the Kid and his gang soon started rustling cattle from old John Chisum, as they saw no one to stop them. I figure, as they probably did too, that old John had it coming to him anyway. That's what ya get fer grabbing the Devil by the tail. This was the preliminary setting to what became known as the Lincoln County war. Now I heard all about it straight from another friend of mine who I also looked up to, greatly; named Pat Garrett. However, Pat's recounting of his deadly encounter with the Kid was pretty well polished I will say. I heard the truth of it from Pete Maxwell himself who was also in the room at the time of the encounter. He told me that the Kid come bargin' in from the porch with his gun drawn already. The room was pitch dark, and the Kid questioned his trusted friend Pete about who the men were outside, which he'd somehow gotten past. John Poe was one of them. Then he saw Garrett's shadowy form on the bed, and he questioned who it was in Spanish. As the Kid drew closer, again demanding who it was, Garrett lunged forward, pushing the Kids gun barrel away, and with his other hand shoving a pistol against the Kid's chest. Garrett fired once, and then he ran from the room in fright. Pete stumbled into the hall after him, and Garrett almost shot him, thinking it was the Kid. Pete said that Garrett was too terrified to even go back into the room to check if the Kid was dead, but so was Pete too. Now don't get me wrong, I still have the utmost respect for Pat, God rest his soul, but that was reality in the wild old west; it was damn frightening." Jim nodded his head.

"Now I'm not going to talk about any of the rest of the Lincoln County war; that has already been well documented. Other than to say that slippery bastard John Selman got away again. Don't know where he wound up right after Lincoln, maybe up in Catron County as they was having a range war then too. That was the way of it you see, when all this land was just declared open range for anyone to take it, take it they did, by intimidation and murder. The politicians' at the top were nothing more than a bunch of carpet baggers themselves, and so that was how the west was won. It didn't matter at all to the new authorities that the Spanish had previously deeded all the lands to people already living there when we took it from them, but then again they had only taken it themselves from the Indians. So I guess might does makes right; at least that is what our government would tell us. It's true though, as I have personally witnessed on many occasion." Jim Gillette spat some more tobacco juice, and then he took the chew from his lips, and flicked it into the fire also.

He drew a deep breath, and smiled, then going on with his story, "Now John Selman had a well-earned reputation as a bad man. In the old west this meant he was a butcher, plain and simple. I wound up not only meeting him years later, but working with him too. I never could say I was fond of him though, but I did respect his guns."

"However, lets back up a bit, and properly introduce the champion of our story here tonight. A man I first met in seventy seven, when I personally guarded him for a time on his way to be tried for murder. He was called 'bug bear' by some, to scare children and simple tourists. I knew him as John Wesley Hardin."

Only if you first practice to never miss,

will you not miss in a real gunfight.

At least that's the working theory anyhow.

\- Anonymous dead gunfighter -

Chapter two:

"By the time I met John Wesley, I had seen a touch of action. A scrap with some Indians, and our troop helped settle things down in the Mason County feud. John was our charge for a while as he we transported him to trial, and I got to know him as he was quite talkative. He told us of all his adventures before then. I was only twenty one then, and John Wesley was twenty four himself, but he had already killed over thirty men. Strange thing to me right away, was how personable he was. He was bright blue eyed, with sandy blonde hair, and many a woman found him irresistible. He was fairly well educated too, and intelligent as they come. John was eager to tell his tale, as it was a good one indeed."

"It seemed important to him for us to understand how he was raised, as a strict Methodist by his father Reverend Hardin, and a good Confederate. His whole world had killing in it. Kill the Mexicans, Kill the Negros, Kill the damned carpet baggers, Kill the goddamned Yankees. It was kill or be killed as was drilled into his mind and heart. When John was just eight years old he witnessed his first killing, and it was brutal; watching an older store keep get his throat slashed by a town bully. It excited John though, and he said he knew then he was destined to be a killer, so he practiced everything he could think of, but especially shooting."

"When he was fourteen he got his first taste of blood from another boy at school, named Charlie Sloter, who used to be a friend of his. They started feudin' and it ended up in a knife fight eventually, where Charlie almost lost his life. The town's folk got agitated and even started talkin' 'bout a lynchin' of Wes. It was all cleared up legally though, and then the next year Wes killed his first man."

"It was odd how unsettled he became when talking about this, but then he explained that he'd heard some made up versions of the event which made him seem to be cold-blooded, and he argued that he was not. That he didn't kill the Negro named Maje just cause he wouldn't get off the road, that was bull shit he said. Wes told me it all started two days before the actual killin', when he was with his cousin Barnett Jones at his Aunt Anne and his Uncle Barnett Hardin's place. The big Negro named Maje used to belong to his uncle Clabe. The freed slave was a big and strong as they came, and he'd said he could beat any two men, and he'd proved it on a number of occasions. Wes and Bar made plans to meet up the next day and take Maje up on his bet. They had a plan of attack after Wes had looked the quite imposing fellow over."

"They teased Maje all morning long until he told them he was always ready for them, and then they went for a fall. Both Wes and Bar, short fer Barnett, got on opposite sides of Maje, who kept turning with their circling with outstretched arms ready. His special skill was in throwing one man with a single arm while simple holding onto the other, when it would then be his turn. Wes and his cousin had a plan though, and as Bar sprung low under Maje's arm, to slam into his leg, Wes leaped onto Maje's back and applied a choke with his arm to the big Negro's neck. It worked and Maje tumbled to the ground. Wes was choking and scratching at the man's eyes as his cousin trapped the big man's arms down. Maje yelled that he quit, and the boys got off him and let him up."

"But Wes said the big Negro man was sorely pissed off at Wes fer choking him, and gouging his eyes, but John Wesley told him all was fair. Maje responded by going after him, and the crowd of the ranch hands intervened, yet the big Negro went and got a rifle anyhow, and so John Wesley ran and fetched a revolver from his uncle's house, but his Father grabbed him up, and wouldn't let him leave the house."

"Anyhow the next day, Maje and John Wesley met up on the road, and the Negro attacked John with a stick, so he said, and then Wes shot him down with all six rounds from his gun." Jim Gillett stopped for a moment and looked up at the brightly twinkling night sky, and everyone around the fire did too, it was invigorating.

"John didn't count this as his first kill though, as he never counted Mexicans, or Negros as kills, they didn't rate that. It was the same with all the killers. Under the old law he would never have been tried, but since the war had just ended, the Yankee carpet baggers would surely string Wes up in revenge. So his father told him to skedaddle, and to hide out until the damn Yankees was gone. So he lit out to Logallis Prairie, just west of Sumpter, where his brother was teaching school. There his brother fixed him up with some friends who hid him out for a while. He said he kept up his shootin' skills by hunting game all around the prairie. That's also where his new friends showed him how to earn his keep by 'gathering wild cattle.' This translates to rustling un-branded cows." Jim gave a wry wink and chuckled.

"Now the carpet baggers and their Union troops were indeed pissed off about Maje's murder, and they went looking for Wes. His brother came and warned him one night that three union cavalry men were in the area searching for him, two white men and a Negro. Though his brother pleaded with him to flee, Wes was determined to fight these men. If they wanted to come kill him, then he would kill them first. The neighbors told him when the troops were headed his way, and Wes saddled up with a double barrel shotgun, and his six gun. He waited in ambush for them to cross the ford of the creek, where he knew they had to come through. Just as they drew from the creek he charged them, and he said he gave a hell of a Rebel Yell as he did. It worked and they were too startled to react. He touched off both triggers of the shotgun one right after the other as the barrel almost touched his victims. The double blast killed one of the soldiers outright, and wounded another, knocking him from his mount. This scattered the horses of the union soldiers, and the wounded man struggled back up on his mount and had drawn his rifle by the time Wes stopped and turned. Wes dropped the scattergun, and drew his pistol as he charged his mount forwards, right back at the union troops. The man fired his rifle nicking Wes on his left arm, but he also fired just then too, and his ball hit the soldier in the neck, killing him. The third soldier reigned in his fleeing horse, and as Wes charged him he demanded the soldier surrender, his answer came in the form of a rifle round nearly missing Wes's head. Wes fired again, and that man departed the earth too. You see, Wes Hardin was not only the fastest draw anyone ever saw, he was also an expert shot even riding hard from the mount, a neat trick as I am sure you are all well aware." Jim smiled and nodded at the crowd of cowpokes.

"Anyhow, pretty soon all the neighbors showed up after they'd heard the gunfire end, and they stripped the soldiers bodies, burning all their clothes, then they buried them in the deepest part of the creek with all their heavy gear. The horses were split up between ranchers, and as far as any evidence could show, the troops had just disappeared. From there his Pa sent word for him from Navarro County, to move there and go to school that his Pa taught. Now John Wesley Hardin was only fifteen and a half then, and he already knew how to read and write fairly well, so the studies bored him, and in a few months he went back to the cowboy way."

"It was easy to get started right away again as most of his very numerous cousins in the area were already driving herds east to Dallas. So Wes hired on a drive winding up in Dallas, and said he'd never seen such debauchery in his life. As soon as he got his pay, he part took in all the activities of vice, just to try them out, and taste of the temptation himself. Though he said he would have some drinks, he wasn't a drunk, and didn't like to get drunk, or out of control. He also visited the red light district, and found out what that was all about. There were so many different distractions; rat killing contests, the cock fights, dog fights, bareknuckle brawls for prize money, and bearbaitings, and he really took a shine to quarter horse racing. The one vice he really fell into though was gambling, and 'seven up' was his favorite game."

"Back in Pisga, in Navarro County, he took to a new game he invented, and that was to see how far a common fellow would jump when Wes cranked a round right by his feet from nowhere. Needless to say the young buck wasn't real well liked by any but his extended family. It was so boring there he wound up willing to bet on anything, even spitting to hit a target. Yup sounds like a hoot don't it folks?" Jim laughed. "I've been there too, but I wasn't much of a one to gamble on it though. There sure are some boring days when you don't have anything better to do than spit at things. Anyhow, back to Wes. One of his cousins there in Navarro County was named Simp Dixon, and Simp was already a wanted man as well, so they both hit it off good. Simp was three years older than Wes, and his mother, brother, and sister had been raped and murdered by Union soldiers in North Texas several years prior, and thus Simp became a serious KKK member and post war rebel. Hatred of the Damned Yankees and Negros was universal in West Texas then, as it was before."

"One day Wes and Simp were hunting down in the Richland bottoms when they were surprised by a squad of Union Cavalry soldiers. The soldiers yelled for them to submit to identification, and both Wes and Simp jumped behind a big cedar stump to yell for the soldiers to come and get 'em then. That was when the gun battle began, as the Union boys stayed mounted while firing, but Wes and Simp were covered real good by the big stump. Then Wes dropped two of the mounted soldiers in a row, and them others lit out quick at that."

"This was how Texas was during the reconstruction as they called it. Not to mention the Indian wars that were constantly fought out in west Texas during this time, and even well before the war. Many gangs of desperate men roamed the country side also, all vying for what little was left in our once great State. Well John was sure enough to run into one of these gangs as he played the race circuit himself, running a horse. He had a mare that was fleet as lightning, and he wagered a race with a roan that was owned by a gangster named Jim Bradley, just the two horses alone. Wes rode his spurring it to a great leaping victory as he told it, and then bully Bradley wanted his mare for his own. Wes said no, that she wasn't for sale, and the bully just tried to take her from him. With his usual lightning speed Wes had drawn down on Bradley, who sulked off without the mare."

"Well later Wes made the mistake of gambling with the gangster bully, and this led to a drunken melee in which Wes killed Bradley as he was chasing him and Simp down to kill them both. It was a classic chaotic drunken murder that had absolutely no sense attached to it other than kill or be killed as Wes put it. It had ended as Bradley was chasing down Simp in the cold streets at night, with a pistol raised in one hand and a big bowie knife in the other. Wes charged him with his own forty five raised, and Bradley's gang shouted warning to him that Wes was coming. Then Bradley saw Wes, and charged right back at him with his pistol blazin', but Wes held off firing until they was fairly close, and he blasted Bradley in his gut, and then his head real quick like. A couple shots over Bradley's gang's heads, and they skedaddled as their boss dropped dead in his tracks."

"Sure enough the gang formed a posse for getting' Wes and he lit out to Jim Page's place, a friend of the family. The posse went there first though, as Wes's father was known to be visiting at the time. A fellow named Martin warned Wes though, and even then the posse found him. John Wesley fought them off in to retreat by himself, and he told them he would surrender to a proper officer of the law, and not a lynch mob. The posse agreed that they didn't want no killin', especially their own, and left to wait for him to surrender at Jim Page's place. Wes however had other ideas of not being lynched, so he lit out to Pigsa where his family lived still. He had a belated Christmas dinner with his mother, brother, and sister when he arrived. His Pa arrived soon after with a warning that a posse was right behind him, so Wes decided to get some cousins together and to go meet them. They did, and when they got the first draw on the posse, they sent them back home with no bloodshed."

"You see, this is what earned my respect for the man, the fact that even when he had every right to kill a man, many times he didn't, only if he had to do it to survive. That's a mighty big difference there folks, let me tell you." Jim nodded surely.

"Some folk called John Wesley Hardin a rampant, random murderer who had no conscience what so ever. That was not the man I personally knew at all, not then anyhow. He was a rebel, and killer for sure, but he wasn't random, or rampant in the least. Wes was the most purposeful man I ever knew. He just wanted to do right by his kin, and to protect them. I admit, he sure went about it in some strange ways, and sometimes only for his own prestige too. Though I know he did love his family. The times were just that crazy to bring about all these straight up killers. I know, I was one of them too." Jim did not smile at all, instead he seemed sad.

Looking a fellow in the eye to see if he's

about to shoot you ain't the right way. The

eyes can lie. Watch his hands, and if they go

for a weapon, draw fast and fire.

\- Anonymous dead gunfighter -
Chapter three:

"At the town of Kosse, Wes had a meal in a Hostel, and the kitchen maid serving him quickly grabbed his eye as she was real pretty like. She flirted right back with Wes, and soon she invited him back to her room. Just as things started gettin' interestin', the unlocked door burst open and a mean growling man holding a pistol accused Wes of raping his wife, the pretty girl. Right away Wes saw this was a set up, and he played along, seeming scared and real nervous, as it wasn't a far stretch. The fellar told Wes that he wanted a hundred dollars for the insult of making moves on his wife, and Wes told him smoothly, and easily that he had just fifty dollars on him, but if he would be so kind, that he had the rest in his saddle bags. The dude told him to go ahead of him to get it, and then before they had left the room, he demanded the fifty dollars on him. Wes pulled a single twenty dollar gold piece from his pocket and gave it to the man. Then he wrestled around in his pockets for the rest, and pulled two more gold coins from the other pocket, to hand to the man, but Wes let one twenty dollar coin fall from his hand. The man stooped to snatch it up right away, and as he rose back up, Wes had his pistol at the man's head, and he killed him with a single shot. He grabbed up his gold and told the girl that was the last time that game would be played."

"Now Wes headed to Evergreen, near Brenham, for some more horse racing. A feller named Ben Hinds spotted Wes and invited him to a game of seven up, which Wes couldn't refuse. Wes won and Ben, who was a notorious killer himself went for Wes, but Wes was so quick with his gun, he held Ben at bay, then his other pistol flashed to cover the crowd, and Wes told them to get the hell back. Ben apologized and told Wes he would introduce him to his boss, a fellow named Bill Longley. Now Bill Longley was well known as a former member of the Cullen-Baker gang, and had said that he was even strung up once with a partner in crime. The posse had rode off a bit and then fired some shots at the hanging men to finish them, but one shot ricocheted off Bill's belt buckle, and another severed the rope hanging him, saving him. This incident seemed to light a fire of vengeance under Longley's white ass, and he became a nightmare to the surrounding people. He was a one man KKK clan, as he was known to ride fifty miles to kill an uppity Negro, and often times he would ride into a Negro prayer meeting with his white hood and bed sheets covering him, as his guns blazed death to the peaceful, praying Negros."

"Bill Longley had terrorized Texas as far back as Wes could remember of hearing, and now he had Wes in his sights, as John Wesley fully well knew. The next day Longley came up to him and called him a spy for McNeely, and that pissed Wes off, then Longely threatened him, and wound up staring down two, forty five barrels. Longley held out his hands, signaling he wasn't gonna fight, and he invited Wes along to see his own horses. They wound up getting in a game of poker, and Wes cleaned everyone out, then he figured to get out town. The town was already abuzz about the new state police, the Rangers, coming, and Wes had a pretty good sized reward on his head by then, meaning that fellows that was once his friend, might just turn him in fer the reward money. This was in eighteen seventy, when Wes was just seventeen, and he headed fast for the Louisiana border."

"In Longview he stopped for a bite to eat, and before he knew it two deputies each had a gun stuck in his ribs. He was arrested and put in jail. Fortunately the deputies there didn't search Wes real well, or the other prisoners in the holding cell for that matter. They didn't find the three hundred plus dollars in gold he had hidden in his money belt. Neither did they find the spare hidden pistol on one of the other prisoners. By the time they transferred him, Wes had purchased the pistol, a Colt forty five with four rounds in it, as well as a big fur coat from another fellow too."

"The deputies kept his horse and saddle, and hog tied him to a little nag for the journey. Two deputies escorted him, a man named Stokes, and the other was Smolly. They was taking him back to Waco to be tried for murder. This would mean the rope for Wes. He played the respectful youth, and was talkin' the Bible to the deputies, getting' them lulled and at easy of him. Then he told them he wasn't going to try to escape, because he was innocent of the charges. He went with them a couple of days, and then at one camp, Captain Stokes road off looking for corn and grass for the horses. Smolly threatened Wes again, and then made the mistake of cutting him loose so he could tend the horse he rode. Wes gets behind the horse and makes like he's taking the blankets off, while he really is getting that pistol he'd tied with string, under his arm pit. Wes jumps out coverin' Smolly and tells him to drop his guns. Smolly goes to draw, so Wes blasts him twice, killing Smolly instantly. He takes the dead man's guns, and his horse and lights out fast."

"Then he rides to his Pa's place, now in Mount Calm, in Hill County, where he briefly tells of the trouble he is in before getting a fresh horse, and high-tailing it. Outside Waco he skirted around town and hid in some trees growing in a gully till night fall. Unfortunately he fell asleep and was woken by three law men who'd already disarmed him. They asked him who he was, and he lied, saying he was just a cowboy of a different name headed to Sanantone fer a cattle drive. The men suspected him of being a bad man, cause of his twin six shooters, and that he seemed to be hiding, so they said they would ride in with him, and see about his story. Night overtook them near Belton, so they made camp. They didn't eat, instead opting to drink whiskey. Finally two of 'em went to sleep telling the third he had first watch. Wes made like he was asleep, with his arm over his forehead shading his eyes, but he was watching, and waiting. Sure enough the fellow on watch starts snoring sitting there, and Wes said it was music to his ears, he crawled real quiet over to get the other men's guns by their bed-rolls, and he grabs a double barrel shotgun, and a six gun up. First he blasts the fellow on watch point blank in the head with one barrel, the next he fired at one of the sleepin' men killing him too. Then Wes pulled out the six shooter and blasted the last fellow to pieces as he cried out fer mercy. It was kill them or be strung up, kill or be killed, at least that was how Wes saw it." Jim took a few paces shaking his head before going on.

"Now John Wesley knew he was fer sure a dead man, he figured it would be a short trail fer him, so he got a real bad hankerin' to see his folks again, before he was killed. He went back to Mount Calm, and Preacher Hardin didn't hardly believe his story, but he said he would ride with Wes at least part way down to Mexico, as he really needed to get out of the Country then. After they parted ways, he changed his mind about Mexico though, and went to some relatives in Gonzales County. From there he hired on, along with his cousins, on a trail drive to Abilene, Kansas."

"On the drive some drovers with a large herd behind them were driving their cattle too fast running into their own herd, with obvious hopes of mixing the cattle up, and thus rustling some of their cows. They got into a charging mounted gun fight with the Mexican drovers behind them, where Wes killed five of them, and his cousin Jim Clements got one. They also got a bunch of extra head of cattle for their boss."

"Now when they got to Abilene, the sheriff at the time was none other than Wild Bill Hickok. His deputy sheriff named Joe Carson spotted Wes right away, and found the wanted poster from Texas that matched him. Carson told Wild Bill about him, but Bill dismissed it as he was just a kid. The reward money was a thousand dollars though, and that was tempting. It turned out Bill was mighty glad he didn't try to arrest him for the murder charges, as he did try to arrest Wes for breaking the gun ordinance in town. With all the drunk cowboys that came in shooting up their town, the citizens had to act, and the made carrying a weapon in town an offense."

"Wes and his pals were really whooping it up in a saloon, making entirely too much racket, and so Bill comes in and yells at 'em to settle down, then he yells at Wes to either put his guns up, or get out of town. Wes was grumbling as he left the saloon, and he said something a bit derogatory at Bill as he left, well Bill turns right around and draws his pistol, and marches over to Wes, covering him, and he demands the guns from Wes. John Wesley agreed, and handed the butts of his pistols to Wild Bill. As Bill goes to grab them, suddenly Wes jumps off to Bill's side, doing a double Mexican roll with the pistols. His right gun hand was over Bill's gun hand, blocking it, and drawin' a bead on Bill's head, while Wes's other gun poked Wild bill in the ribs. He told Bill to hold it right there, and to put his gun away. So Bill did, and then so did Wes. Some of Wes's friends egged him on to blast Bill, but Wes told them this was his business and none of theirs, even threatening shoot the first man that drew on Bill. That made Wild Bill feel a lot easier, and he was sure glad that John Wesley wasn't some hot head, he just didn't like to be unarmed. So Bill and Wes became friendly in a manner, until Wes killed one of Hickok's personal gang in a bar fight. Then Wes hid out, outside of town."

"That was when a Mexican cowboy killed Billy Chorn on a drive, and the Mexican lit out. Some of the cattlemen came out to Wes and begged him to go after the Mexican, he said he would if they got him the proper warrants and letters of authorization, and they made Wes a deputy sheriff of Dickinson County even. He and a small posse of four, including the brother of Billy Chorn rode after the cowboy."

"They caught up with the fellow in Bluff, and found him eating. Wes had the draw on him and ordered him to surrender, but the fellow, named Bideno, went for his gun and Wes shot him to kingdom come too. He heard news from Abilene that Wild Bill had said he would kill Hardin if he ever saw him again, so Wes went straight there. When he got back to Abilene he was welcomed as a hero. Now a couple of his cousins came into town wounded after a gunfight with some hands that worked on their crew. Wes tried to get a pal of his to get Wild Bill to leave his cousins alone, and the pal got drunk and forgot, so Bill wound up arresting Wes's cousin, though he promised Wes he'd let him go that night. He kept his promise and the cousins who could travel lit for home, as Wes stayed to take care of his cousin who was badly wounded. Now John Wesley was so popular in Abilene that anyone trying to touch him would be taken care of by a mob, but he also knew that Wild Bill and his gang still harbored sour feelings 'cause of him killing their man."

"As Wes was in bed one night in the same room as his cousin, the lock to the door was being picked from the outside. He and his cousin got up quietly and pressed themselves flat against the wall with their guns in hand. The door opened real quiet, and a dark figure snuck in, to hack a big bowie knife into the bed where Wes had just been. John Wesley blew holes in that man too. Just then his cousin said that a hack wagon had just pulled up in front. Wes and his cousin slipped out the window over the front and watched as Wild Bill and five other officers went into the hotel. Wes and his cousin jumped down over the wagon, and split up. After running fer a good bit through a corn field, Wes ran into a cowboy on a horse, and bluffed him off the horse saying he would kill him if he didn't, but in reality Wes had an empty gun. So he stole the horse and rode hard through town, and then out of it on the other side, with the law chasing him. He barely escaped them at the river, and rode hard into the cowboy camp a fer piece down the road. There he got clothes, guns, and grub, before the lawmen approached. Joe Carson and a couple other deputies came into camp, and the cook told them John was in the cattle, but would be back soon, so they sat down for some grub the cook had ready. That was when Wes ambushed them, and captured them all. He made 'em ride back in their undershorts, gun-less."

"When his wounded cousin made it out to the camp a couple days later, they stocked up with guns, ammo, and supplies, before heading back home to Texas. He was real wary going back, as he was still very much a wanted man in Texas. So he didn't visit his folks first, instead riding with his cousin to their family home. Things were at a damned boilin' point in Texas just then, as the Damned Yankee Governor, Davis, was ruling by iron fist and lead. Texas was being punished as the rest of the states of the Confederacy were too, still! This was seventy one folks, seven years after the war, and the Damned Yankees still had it in fer Johnny Reb. Wes tried to keep a real low profile, and he stayed out of trouble fer a good long while. The next year John met Jane Bowen, and a couple months later they got hitched. She was the love of his life he told me, and he stayed true to her. She was as pretty as they come, he said, and then that he got her all fer himself. The whole state was at war though, and a secret confederacy grew in the dark corners of Texas. John Wesley stayed with a personal guard as he became an investor in the new Confederacy. Secret business took him down to the south of Texas near Corpus Christi and in to the territory of the near imputable gangster named King Fisher." Jim Gillette stopped and took another dip of chewing tobacco.

"It was rumored that Wes was running guns and horses into the heartland, to get the new Confederate Army of Texas on its feet, but it didn't work out that way. Most of the arms and horses were used to fight inter-county wars, and family feuds as much as to be used against the Union Government. Anyhow the New confederacy failed even as it began as not only the carpet baggin' Yankees were raping and killing, so were the Texans against their own. It was a goddamned free for all."

"Wes went out from home to make a living plying his trade, leaving his angel, as he called her, wishing for his safe return. John started to use his words to make change in the injustices he saw all around him. He took up a legal case against a fellow in Hemp-hill for a misdemeanor of carrying a pistol. The deputy that had made the arrest was already trying to steal the fellow's horse, tackle, and gun to pay the fines not even judged yet. So Wes won an acquittal, and that surely pissed off the deputy, named Spites appropriately enough. Then one day Spites is coming over to talk to Wes, as a young Texas boy was readin' the deputy the riot act fer being a coward. The young boy egged Spites on enough where he actually went after the kid to whip his ass, and Wes stepped between them, tellin' the deputy to take it up with a man." Jim started laughing sudden like with a hearty chuckle.

"The kid was callin' Spites a whimp and a coward when Wes broke it up, and the deputy told Wes he'd arrest him too. Wes told me that he told Spites he couldn't even arrest half of him, and the little boy hooted loudly with cheers, and more jeering, as a crowd gathered, also to taunt Spites. The deputy had enough of that, and he started to draw his pistol. That was when Wes planted a derringer slug into Spites' shoulder, and quickly drew his six shooter to finish it. This was his new favorite trick fer close range encounters; first shot was from the derringer he'd let slip into his hand, and then Bam! To kill or stun the enemy, followed by a real quick draw of his forty five, and to end that fellar's story right quick like if the derringer didn't do it. Wes let Spites go running to the courthouse screaming in agony instead of killin' him though, as the boy and the crowd assailed Spites with cusses, and jeers. Wes swung onto a horse, and lit out. He was hailed as a hero of the great state of Texas yet again. You need to understand that the law at that time was nothing but woe to all Texans, they hated the Yankee authority that was ruthlessly killin' them off. Any rebellion against this slaughter was cheered on with all heart." Jim paced several steps back and forth, then he stated, "I was raised this way too, it is all about Texas after all, family, and our neighbors, who are our family also."

"The crowd all cheered him at that. A few Rebel yells were added also." Jim joined in, and let a terrific yell go into the night, a coarse, frightening battle cry. The real thing. Everyone else became silent at the echo of it. There was a twinkle in Jim's eye as he went on.

"It was stupid enough that a game of pins, or 'bowling pins' as everyone calls it now a days, would be the cause of Wes Hardin receiving his first serious wounds. He was winning against a fellow named Phil Sublet, who got all pissed off in his drunken state at losin'. So he went and got his shotgun and waited out in the street in the dark. There he called Wes out with shouts of cowardice, and profanity. Wes had his guns ready as he snuck to pear out the swinging doors to the saloon, trying to see the bastard out there in the night waiting fer him. He let a round rip up into the night, to draw some fire, so he could see his enemy. It worked, and he saw old Phil crouched in the street, betrayed by a shotgun blast that pelted the wall of the saloon. Wes stepped into the doorway and let his pistols blaze at his target, but old Phil fired his second barrel just then and it tore into john Wesley's belly."

"He staggered back, and saw he was bleeding real bad, and he told me he knew he was about to die then, so he chased old Phil, who was also shot but not bad, all down the streets and through some stores, both bleeding everywhere, and Wes hardly being able to run, shooting at Phil every chance he got, but he only got a shoulder hit once on him. He wanted to kill the bastard that had killed him. Sublet got away though, and Wes collapsed into a heap. His cousins took him to Doc Carrington who went to work on him. The big belt buckle and money belt he wore had saved his life for the most part, but there were two bad wounds from the buckshot. One pellet had pierce a kidney, and another was close to his spine. The doc said he had a fightin' chance, though a slim one, and that we had to be absolutely still for at least a week. So his cousins took him to the hotel across the street, and guarded him with rifles day and night. Word still started to spread like wildfire that John Wesley Hardin was dying. Wes had his cousin, Barnet Jones, cut the telegraph wires going to Austin, so the State Police didn't come for him, but people started talking about a lynch mob in town anyhow, so Wes took the chance on being moved versus being strung up by a mob. That was his very biggest fear right there, an angry mob. He knew what they were capable of, he'd seen it before."

"For the next three weeks they had to play a game of cat and mouse with the lynch mob, moving Wes from relative, to relative in the area. His friend driving the hack wagon was named Billy Teagarden, and eventually they got Wes up to Sumpter where Billy's dad lived; he was a doctor. So the good doctor Teagarden helped Wes begin to rapidly recover, but they still had to move him across the county line due to a posse looking for him. They took him to fellow named Dave Harrel's place."

"Well the posse finally caught up with him, or two men from it did anyhow. They busted into Dave's place while Dave was in out tendin' the cotton. Mrs. Harrel tried to stop them from bustin' into the back room were Wes was laid up in bed, but they pushed her out of the way. Wes had them covered with a double barrel as they came in. He told them to git, and they ran back outside, but then they snuck around back and was gonna try to surprise him by bustin' in the back door. Dave saw 'em and yelled a warning, so Wes got up, and kicked open the back door. The 'law' men fired just as Wes let them each have a barrel full. Wes caught a rifle slug in his thigh, and the two fellows lie in a heap, dying."

"So they got Wes on a horse, and they rode over to Till Watson's place. The buckshot wounds in his belly were bleeding from the moving around, and he said his boot was fillin' up with blood from the rifle wound. They sent for a doctor, and Wes told Dave to go to Rusk, and get Sheriff Dick Regan to come and arrest him. Dick was a friend of the family, and he knew he'd be safe with him. So Dave went after the sheriff."

"When Dick showed up he left his men outside, and came in alone. Wes surrendered to him, and Dick asked where his guns were. He told the sheriff that he had one pistol in his gun belt on the chair, and another under his pillow. Dick was fetchin' the one from the belt, and John Wesley pulled the other from his pillow. Just then a pistol barked from the door way, and a slug cut a deep grove in Wesley's knee. The sheriff told his men to stop shooting, as Wes was just handing over his gun. They bandaged up his newest gunshot wound, and the deputy who fired it apologized to Wes, telling him he thought he was gonna kill Regan."

"They made him real comfortable in a hack with quilts and things, and took him to Rusk where they nursed him back to health. Then they took him to Austin, where Wes got a lawyer. Since he had no charges in Austin, but he did in Gonzales County, the Judge ordered Wes to be taken to Gonzales. There Sheriff Jones locked him in a cell that had a big metal saw waiting for him. The guard would even tell him when to be quiet when people were nearby. His friends were waiting with a horse for him, right outside." Jim chuckled at that.

"That night Wes was in the arms of his beautiful loving wife again, and the Guadalupe river folks celebrated his return in a big way. He said folks came around his place for days bringing gifts and food, saying thanks for what he done against the Damned Yankees. Only thing was, that right then one of the bloodiest feuds in Texas history was raging all around them."

"Wes stayed out of it the fall of seventy two, and the winter of seventy three, staying home and getting his bullet torn body the rest it desperately needed. However hard he tried to stay away from trouble, it found him though. In April he went into Cuero looking for a deputy Hudson to get permit to run cattle through the town. You see Wes really wanted to live a peaceful life with his angel, and figured on cattle ranchin' to make a living. Instead the sheriff met him on the road, and when he introduced himself as Jack Helm, who Wes knew of full well, then Wes calls him out right there, telling him to make his play. In the blink of an eye Wes had his six shooter drawn on Helm, and Helm didn't want nothin' to do with dying that day. So he starts sweet talking Wes, telling him he wanted to be friends, and come to an understanding. Helm was said to be responsible for killing the Kelly brothers, and old man Pitkin Taylor, when he wouldn't shut up about the blatant murder of his son in law, Henry Kelly. The murderers we never even charged. These were relatives of John Wesley, and try as he might to get Helm to draw, the coward wouldn't. He was so persistent though that Wes said he'd meet with him later and talk."

"Well, Helms goes about trying to get Wes to join their gang of vigilantes that were terrorizing the valley. Eventually he promises Wes he would clear up all his troubles with the law, but that he needed Wes to kill some of the ranchers who wouldn't join the vigilantes, and named off a bunch of fellows Wes considered friends, then Helm even has the gall to tell him that if he and his kin folk didn't join, they would be killed too. Now if you have gotten even the slightest glimpse into who I've been telling you John Wesley Hardin was, then you know how Wes reacted to this threat. That's right, he went to war himself against Helms."

"Still Helms tried to meet with Wes, and when Wes finally did, he instantly saw that Helm wasn't alone, it was a trap. Once again his blazing speed on the draw surprised Helm and all his men, Wes skedaddled, and he was in the blacksmith shop with Jim Taylor when he sees Helm coming after Jim with a big bowie knife. He yelled at him to shoot the SOB. Wes blasts Helm in the gut with one barrel of his twelve bore, and covers the rest of Helm's men with the other. Meanwhile Jim was putting a number of pistol rounds into Helms head, as he dropped dead right in front of all his shocked men. They got out, and Wes told me that he received many a thank you letter from widows all over the county, whose husbands had been murdered by Helm and his men. In fact many an upstanding citizen told him he rid the county of the worst evil."

"The rest of Helms' men were rumored to be getting a vengeance raid together, so Wes got all his friends and they rode over to see about stopping this raid. They had a dozen of 'em trapped inside this fellow's house for two nights, then the sheriff showed up with fifty men, and they all signed a truce. The truce lasted seven months, and when the fightin' broke out again, Wes took his wife and their little son Johnny way out west to Comanche County, where his folks was living then. He left his family there and went back to Gonzales County to get his cattle."

"The shootings were a daily occurrence, and the main feuding was between the Taylors, kin of Wes, and the Suttons, who took over the gang from Helm when he was killed. He had been raiding the Taylors cattle, and some of John Wesley's too. Jim Taylor had rode into Cuero and shot Bill Sutton in the arm for the rustling. That was when the killings really started up again."

"Now Wes heard tell that Sutton was going to be driving his cattle into Indianola, so Billy and Jim Taylor went to meet him there. They found out he was to take a steamer to New Orleans, and what day it was departing. They went on board, and walked right up to Dick Sutton in the dining room, and blew a hole in the back of his head, right in front of his wife. A friend of Sutton's, Gabe Slaughter started to draw, and he had a hole drilled in his head too. The boys rode off to a coral where Wes had fresh horses and supplies waiting for them. Wes said there was a bunch of celebrating when Billy and Jim got home, as heroes."

"That was what they called the Sutton-Taylor feud, but it were more like a range war, not just a feud. Though it did get real personal. Everything quieted down for a while, and then in March of seventy four on Wes's twenty first birthday, he was celebrating in the town of Comanche with Jim Taylor and some friends. Rumor had it that deputy sheriff Charlie Webb of Brown County was gunnin' for Wes, and to capture Jim as there was a five hundred dollar reward for him alive. Wes was wanted dead or alive for his reward money, of four thousand dollars, which was a heap back then."

"Well, just as they go to leave Jack Wright's Saloon Charlie Webb come strollin' up. Wes confronted him right away saying that if he was there to arrest him he wanted to see the papers. Charlie had one hand behind his back all casual like, and he told Wes he wasn't there to arrest him. John Wesley was still suspicious, and asked him what he was holding behind his back. Charlie real slow shows him a lit cigar. So Wes invites him in for a last drink, and a smoke. Charlie agrees real friendly like, and Wes goes to lead the way. Just then someone yelled to watch out. Wes spins around crouching to see Charlie draw. Wes takes a sliding side step as he draws a pistol concealed in a shoulder holster. That side step saved his life as Charlie fired, grazing Wes's ribs. Then Wes blasted Charlie hitting him in his cheek, and the bullet plowing into the roof of his mouth. Charlie slumped against the door way and fired a wild shot. Bud Dixon, and Jim Taylor had closed in with their pistols as they blasted the hell out of Charlie Webb while he slid down the wall."

"The times were changing in Texas then, as most of the Carpet baggers had been run off, or voted out of office. The killin' of Charlie Webb was the straw that broke the camel's back. Wes had to get out of Texas as the mobs were sure after him then, and right away too. It wasn't long before he got word that lynch mobs had killed some of his buddies, some cousins, and his older brother Joe, so in the summer of seventy four Wes vanished from Texas."

"Pinkerton agents soon were on his trail, and when they found him, two of the four were killed by Wes. He had written his wife telling her to join him in Alabama, after this encounter, and told her of it, but that he wasn't even scratched. She did join him, and they had some good years then."

"Unfortunately for John Wesley, a new man had been put in charge of the Ranger operations, and Lieutenant John B. Armstrong saw the four thousand dollar reward on Wes's head, and decided to investigate the matter. He was smart enough that he tracked him down through some correspondence that he had with his wife's family. It was August second of seventy seven when Armstrong took Wes and five men with him, all by himself. His deputies had coward's hearts, and though they said they would do their part, they didn't. I asked Wes how in the hell a crippled up old man all by himself could do that. He told me that Armstrong was as brave as they come, he even saw him coming and knew it was a Texas lawman by the seven inch barrel on his Colt. Wes said he tried to draw, but his gun hammer was hung up on his pants, and that he just about jerked the pants over his head trying to get it free. The Ranger hit him over the head with his cane, and Jim Mann sitting next to Wes fired a shot that went right through Armstrong's hat, missing him, then the Ranger blasted Jim. Wes said he kicked Armstrong back, but he just rebounded off a seat, and whacked him on the head with his pistol. It clean knocked him out. That was how I got to meet him the first time. At his trial he was convicted of second degree murder of deputy sheriff Charlie Webb, and sentenced to twenty five years of hard labor." Jim shook his head.

The absolute best way to shoot another

fellow, and make sure you don't get shot in the

process, is to sneak up behind him and blast

away.

\- Anonymous dead gunfighter -
Chapter four:

"Now I met up with John Wesley again many years later, after my time with the Rangers, in a town named El Paso. But before we talk about my 'Six years with the Texas Rangers,' the same title as my book coincidently, I'd like to know how many of you fine folks also had a Texas Ranger in your family, just by show of hands." Jim encouraged the crowd, and a few of hands raised.

"Why don't you tell me your name, and then the name of the Ranger in your family, see if I know any of 'em." Jim pointed to a fellow.

"My name is L.I. Brown, and my grand pappy was a Ranger. His name was Aaron Burr Brown." The young man said.

Jim cocked his head and scratched it. "I didn't personally know him, but I do recall that name from somewhere. When did he serve?"

"I'm not sure exactly, my pa would only tell us that his pa was shot in the face with a shotgun, by an Indian, and he died a year later from the wounds. He died in seventy four I think." L.I. told.

"Oh, hell. He was before my time then, but I still recall that name from somewhere."

Another gray haired man spoke up, "I do too Jim. That must mean we both read it somewhere... and I bet I know where. Hang on, I'll go get my copy of the book." The man retreated to the ranch house and came back a minute later with a big thick book. He sat down near a lantern, and looked through it. "Here it is Jim."

Jim came over and read it aloud for everyone to hear. "This is quoted from the book, 'Indian Depredations in Texas' by J.W. Wilbarger; { I inquired if there was any one who was willing to go into the dark hole or canyon nearby to ascertain if there were any Indians secreted there, Aaron Burr Brown, an eighteen year old boy, said: "Captain, suppose you go yourself, as you are getting the biggest pay for hunting Indians, and here is a good chance to find one if it is dark." I replied, "you go in with me," and in we went.} Jim chuckled at that. Then he said, "Now that's Texas for ya!" he laughed as did a bunch of others.

Jim read some more silently, then told what the gist was. "They didn't find no Indians then, but they did find a horse. Wait there's another part with your granddad in it. This is a page later on...{After the men who had fallen behind in the chase came up we made a thorough search for the Indian I had shot at, and found that he had been wounded and had secreted himself among the loose rocks that had fallen off the bluff. While we were sitting on the rocks resting ourselves, Aaron Burr Brown said to me that if I would have him decently buried, and rocks put over him to prevent the wolves from scratching him up, in the event that he was killed, that he would go down among the rocks and try to finish the Indian I had wounded. I promised to do so and off he went. Soon after disappearing from sight we heard him fire, and in a few moments we saw him coming out backwards from a crevice, the report of the pistol among the rocks having nearly stunned him. He waited until the smoke had cleared away, went in and dragged out the dead body of the Indian.}" Jim silently read on a bit and got wide eyes. "Oh the next part is pretty gruesome indeed. This is an excellent book here folks, you really should give it a read."

"Yours is too Jim." The other old man added.

Jim chuckled and then went on, "Well Mister Brown, your ancestor was a mighty brave man it reads, and a true Texan too. You should be proud son." He told the young man with an honest smile.

L.I. nodded as he looked down with humility.

Then the other men, and a couple gals who's family had a Ranger in them, told of their own family histories, but Jim didn't know any of the Rangers personally.

"Well let's tell a little of my story, and then we will be in El Paso for its bloodiest days soon." Jim winked and everyone was mesmerized by him.

"My first taste of notoriety came shortly after I joined up with the Rangers, and after I met John Wesley Hardin; when I went after a wanted man by the name of Dick Dublin out of Tom Green County. Him and another fellar, named Ace Lankford had killed two men at a country store in Coryell County. Rewards went out totaling more than seven hundred dollars, and our company commander, a Lieutenant Reynolds, set it in his mind to go after them. Old Dick made it known that he would never surrender, most notably from several occasions where our troops had him cornered and he chased them off with blistering gunfire. Lieutenant Reynolds was so pissed off after the last of these embarrassments he swore that our negro cook could do a better job than us, and that Dick Dublin had become a regular Johnah to our company. This sure lit a fire under our asses, let me tell you. We finally caught up with old Dick at the Mack Potter ranch, and we sure surprised him good. He lit out on foot trying to get away. Well I had to kill him, but what had attracted me to huntin' him down in the first place was the seven hundred dollar reward on him. When I went to collect the reward, I found out that the money was fer a live Dick Dublin, not a dead one. Boy did I feel stupid, but probably not half as stupid as ol'e Dick felt as I killed him."

"I was also in on the hunt fer Sam Bass, but I missed the Round Rock shootout by a couple of hours. After that I was assigned to C Company under the command of Lieutenant George W. Baylor, and we were sent out to El Paso to stop the Salt War that was raging. By the time we got there the shootin' was mostly over, but we still had a real rowdy town to settle down. I swear I ain't never seen nothin' like El Paso back in the eighties. That place were wild as hell. The ladies of the evening would even ride around necked to drum up business. I never seen so much drinkin' and sinning in my life, and that was just one pass through the main street. Everyone was also sure all riled up about the killin's in the Salt War. So to say it was a rowdy town would certainly be an understatement. Now we got the town settled down right quick like just with our small detachment ridin' the streets. It had everything to do with how damned heavily armed we all were, we was loaded fer bear!"

"Now we had some Indian attacks ourselves after we got there, as Victorio and his band of Apache's were on the war path. I ain't gonna go into detail about it, but I do in my book 'Six years with the Texas Rangers.' I do want to get into detail 'bout El Paso though, as that is where our champion and our villain of this story would eventually meet up. I was involved with catching the murderers of A.M. Conklin, the owner of the Socorro Sun newspaper. He was gunned down on Christmas Eve in eighty by a couple of men. I caught 'em both, but one I had to abscond with from Mexico. He happened to get himself lynched as I was delivering him, and that didn't go over too well. Now after I got myself fired from the Rangers, at the rank of Captain, for a slight little international incident; well then I hired on as a rail guard for the Santa Fe Railroad. Didn't last long, I hate ridin' trains."

"So I went back to El Paso and hired on as deputy sheriff for Marshal Dallas Stoudenmire. I had gotten married to Major Baylor's sixteen year old daughter named Helen in eighty one, before I was fired, and she went with me. It didn't last long though, as the girl was a hopeless romantic, and that I sure as hell ain't." Jim chuckled.

"Now you need to understand just a little bit of back story here, about the Marshal before Stoudenmire. His name was George Campbell, and he was a friendly enough fellow, though he hung around a very rough crowd. He hired a man named Bill Johnson fer a deputy, and the two were up to no good. It wasn't without reason though. You see back then El Paso was so small they had no tax base, and there was no salary for the lawmen. They had to make their pay from their portion of the fines collected, usually a third of the fine. That meant George and Bill had to make their pay by arresting their friends. The real dangerous killers and such, wouldn't be subject to a fine though, as they would be headed to the rope, or to the territorial prison in Yuma. So there was no pay at all in going up again these type. Campbell grumbled about this often as the City had money, from all the permit fees for every vendor that came into town, no matter what their enterprise. It got so contemptuous between the city alders, the Mayor, and Marshal Campbell, that it led to George and his buddies shooting the town to pieces one night in January of eighty one. I was still with the Rangers then, and was sent with five other men to restore order in town. It didn't take us long."

"Well Campbell's day's as Marshall was over, and shortly after that was when Dallas Stoudenmire was hired fer the job. Nobody knew much about him 'cept he was big, stern, and as mean a seeming gunman that there was. I hired on as his deputy just after he took the job, as I had been fired from the Rangers then. Dallas was easy enough to get along with, if you did exactly as he said, when he said it. So I did, and he and I got along fine. To be honest with ya, I could see he had quite a temper, and a quick gun, so I wasn't about to rebel again him." Jim nodded with a sigh.

"Now the Marshall's brother in law and sister moved into town, and opened up a fine restaurant named 'The Globe.' The fellow's name was 'Doc' Cummings, and he became the side kick, and unofficial deputy of Stoudenmire. At least the city had given us a salary then, and I was making forty dollars a month again. Too bad I couldn't stand the trains, as that pay was a hundred and fifty a month! Just at that time the rail was being built into El Paso, from the west, and linking to San Francisco. That meant that El Paso was destined to become a big time city."

"Then two Mexican's who had shot three escapees from the Juarez prison earlier, were killed in the Bosque down by the river out of town. On April fourteenth of eight one, seventy five heavily armed Vaquero's rode into El Paso from across the river. They asked for help in retrieving the bodies, and it was given to them, then they demanded an inquest, and it was also granted. You see, seventy five heavily armed men was a pretty good convincer. Well at the inquest, which was held very hastily, the translator seemed to be favoring the Mexican's, at least to all the Anglos he did anyhow. His name was Gus Krempkau, and he actually disarmed the whole volatile situation with the Mexicans, and they rode home across the river."

"It was too bad fer ol'e Gus though as former Marshal George Campbell started cussing him and givin' him all kinds of grief fer sidin' with the Mexicans. George was quite drunk you see. Then as Gus was mountin' his mule to git, George said he should be lynched for helpin' the Mexicans. Gus got back down and confronted George, that was when a friend of George, named Jim Hale shouted that he had him, to his buddy, and he shot Gus Krempkau just under his heart. Now Marshal Stoudenmire heard the shot and came running. Dallas didn't wear holsters however, and he always had two guns in his deep trouser pockets. One a snub nosed revolver he called his 'belly gun,' because he would stick it into a fellow's belly right up close, and the other was a six inch forty five. Well he saw Jim Hale moving over Gus to finish him, and he took real careful aim, he later told me, and yet when he fired, he struck and killed an innocent bystander. So Dallas cocks his gun's hammer again and moved a bit closer before he fired a second shot. It was just as Hale, who had ran behind a building's roof column, peeked out to see, and the bullet struck him square in the head."

"The excitement seemed to be over as people started to flood into the streets to see the end result of the violence. All of a sudden George Campbell pulls his gun and wanders into the street screamin' that it wasn't his fight. Well ol'e Gus wasn't dead yet, and surely must have figured that George had shot him, 'cause he fires two rounds at George, hitting him in his foot, and gun hand. George screamed, cussing, and scooped the gun up in his left hand to finish Gus off, but Dallas let a round rip into George's stomach. It was only about thirty seconds total time until there were four men lying dying in the streets." Jim laughed a hoot and said, "Welcome to El Paso!"

"Now plenty of folks were pissed off about Campbell's killing, including his friends the Manning's, and his ex-deputy Bill Johnson. You see the very first thing Dallas did was to fire Bill when he took the job of city Marshal. The Manning's fanned the flames of resentment in Bill, and gave him plenty of liquor to encourage him to kill Stoudenmire. Three days after the four men died, Bill Johnson camped out on a pile of bricks that were for the State National Bank being built on the northeast corner of the intersection of El Paso and San Antonio streets. He had a double barrel shotgun, and a bottle of whiskey. In the morning, it was a Sunday morning, along comes Stoudenmire and his side kick Doc Cummings making their morning rounds. Johnson heard them coming and waited until they was close, and he popped up aiming his shotgun. He fired both triggers at very close range, and 'cause he was so damned drunk from drinking that whiskey all night, he missed completely. Dallas and Doc blasted him to pieces."

"Now about a year later in February of eighty two both Dallas and I had a bad flu, this left Doc Cummings to police the town by himself. Dallas got better, but then he had to go out to the panhandle to get married. I was still bed-ridden when ol'e Doc got into it with Jim Manning on the fourteenth. From what the only witness said, Doc drew first, and he fired two shots. Doc's bullets missed, but Jim Manning's didn't. Strange thing was, during the inquest, it was found that Jim's gun had only one spent cartridge in it. Doc's had two spent casings, but on opposite sides of the cylinder. He also had a fractured skull somehow. That single witness was the bartender in the Coliseum Saloon that Jim Manning owned. Now there were other witnesses to a part of the argument that Doc and Jim were having outside at one point, and it seemed Doc was certainly the instigator of the violence. He was drunk, and angry. It cost him his life. The Freemasons gave Doc a burial there in town."

"Now personally I figured Doc had it coming, he was a drunk bully that liked to throw his weight, and authority, from being Stoudenmire's brother in law, all around town. Dallas was the same way. He liked to drink and he was always angry when he did too, and was a worse bully than Doc."

"When Dallas came back, he was surely pissed off about Doc's killing, and he tried to instigate a fight with the Manning's, who were highly respected citizens of the community. Dallas was drinking a huge amount then too, and he was generally hating the whole world. The entire town was scared of him, me included. He would do stuff to aggravate people just out of spite, like using the bell on Saint Clements as target practice. One time he even set up targets right where he'd killed George Campbell, Jim Hale and the innocent bystander, and gave a repeat performance for those who might have missed the original. Well the town finally had enough, so the Mayor and aldermen got together to vote for demanding his resignation in late May of eighty two. Dallas went window to window outside the town hall, staring the counsel down and calling them all out. The next Monday he sobered up and resigned. They made me city Marshal in his place."

"Now I even had to arrest Dallas once, he was gambling with a fellow and they started to fight. Just as Dallas was about to draw and shoot the man down, I cocked my double barrel at the back of his head. He calmed right down then. He still was trying to incite a feud with the Manning's though, so everyone of those who he considered not to be an enemy, 'cause he didn't have any friends, well, we talked him into making a truce with the Manning's, as they certainly weren't trouble makers. The first peace treaty they signed lasted until Stoudenmire was made a deputy United States Marshal there in El Paso. Then the Manning's figured that he would come after them. Well, everyone else intervened again, and Dallas said he would meet with the Manning's and sign another peace treaty, 'cause he wasn't after them at all he said."

"That second meeting took place on September eighteenth of eighty two. It didn't go well at all, especially fer Dallas. Jim Manning had just went to fetch his brother Frank, leaving Dallas and Doc Manning with a few bystanders. Sure enough Dallas let's his mouth fly, and before you know it Doc Manning, a well-respected medical doctor in town and a man who was anything but an outlaw, and Stoudenmire are drawing on each other. A bystander tried to separate them, but it only knocked Dallas off his balance. Doc drew and fired first, hitting Dallas's left arm, his gun arm. Dallas dropped his gun, and Doc shot him again in the breast pocket. That second round didn't even penetrate the skin, but it knocked Dallas out the swinging bat doors into the street. Dallas draws his other gun with his weak hand, and fires as Doc is coming through the doors. He hits Doc in his gun hand, and he drops his gun. Dallas is struggling to cock his gun again, as that first shot in his left arm severed an artery, and ricocheted into his chest. Doc has only one chance he sees, and he jumps on Dallas and pins his arms to the side. Dallas was way bigger than Doc, but he was shot up pretty bad. Then Jim Manning comes running back and sees the two fighting to the death. All he has on him is his belly gun, a Colt with no barrel and no trigger either. He takes aim and trips the hammer, and misses wide. He runs up closer and puts a slug right behind Dallas's right ear, and it was all over. Now Doc Manning is so pissed that he beats Stoudenmire all over the head with the ex-marshal's own gun. Not too many people in town were at all saddened by Stoudenmire's killing, he had become that much of a problem."

I ain't never backed away from a fair fight,

nor will I. My back just don't have a yellow

streak down it I guess.

\- Anonymous dead gunfighter -
Chapter five:

"The railroad really did grow the city, and almost overnight it seemed. My tenure as the City Marshal of El Paso wasn't too long, as I had, and still do have, a revulsion of drunks. Now at that time our inglorious Mayor, named Paul Keating, was a notorious drunk, and I told people that he was often too drunk to do his civic duties. He got pissed off when he heard I was saying these things about him, and he confronts me in the street. I punched him silly, and warned him if he wanted to continue this fight, that I would be more than happy to shoot him. So Keating goes and fills out an arrest warrant for me, charging assault, and that I made threats to kill him. I guess I probably could have beat it, 'cause the town really liked me, but I decided to call it quits. You see I had this dream to move to Marfa and become a rancher. I had already bought the land, and had a ranch house built, and a well dug already, but my first herd of cattle all caught the fever, and died." Jim shook his head sadly.

"So I had to go back to the El Paso city council with my tail between my legs. They hired me on as a deputy again. The town was reasonably quiet for the next few years, now that Stoudenmire was gone. Now I should tell you of one of the west's most dangerous gunmen that I met when I was a deputy under Stoudenmire. He was hired on as a deputy too, but he used an alias, instead of his real name. When he told me who he really was, I didn't believe him at first. It was uncanny how much personal detail he had concerning the wild days in Las Vegas, New Mexico. That was when I realized he was indeed Mysterious Dave Mather."

"Mysterious Dave was not a big drinker, he was quiet and reserved, and didn't talk much, except during some long boring night patrols through town. I liked him, and trusted his guns with my life, and he with mine. His most famous exploit at that time was the shootout in the Close and Patterson Saloon in Vegas. Dave had been a partner and good friend of Wyatt Earp before he moved to Las Vegas. They had painted some lead bars with gold paint, and was selling them in the panhandle before the sheriff, who'd bought one, ran them out of the county. That was when he and Earp split up."

"In Vegas Dave got to know, and worked for Hoodoo Brown, real name Hyman G. Neill. The Marshal worked for brown too, and hired Dave as a deputy. There were folks in El Paso that said he was a train and coach robber, but Dave told me they were lying. Now one night in January of eighty he got his first test as a lawman. The Henry gang rode into town, and were terrorizing people in the saloon. City Marshal Tom Cooper and Dave stayed to the sides of the door, and shouted for the gang to put down their weapons. They laughed at them, so the Marshal busts in ready to shoot, but the gang riddled him with bullets. Dave said he slipped in right behind Tom and started blasting, killing a fellow named 'Big Randall' right away. Another outlaw got two bullets in his chest, and the leader, Tom Henry, got one in the leg. One gang member was unscathed, as was Dave. Henry and the other fellow lit out. Word came along within a couple days that the two who escaped were hidin' out in the little forest town of Mora up in the hills, so Dave went with a posse and arrested them. Once they were back in town, Dave told me that night the lynch mob came for them. Dave said he did the only reasonable thing, he opened the cell doors and front door, and handed the prisoners over to the mob. Wasn't a one of them worth his life. He told me that he even went with the mob, and figured to help 'em out. A man named West was the first jerked from the litter where he lay wounded in the chest. They didn't tie his hands though, and he was pulling himself up, trying to slip the rope off, and crying out fer his mother. That was when the widow of Joe Carson started shooting the prisoners. A wounded Henry crawled to the platform edge, and begged to be shot in the head. Then everyone opened up on them, and filled them good and full of lead." Bill chuckled and raised his brows.

"Now Dave and I didn't get into any big shootouts in El Paso, but after he quit, I heard he went out to Dallas, and he hooked up with a Negro Madame fer a couple of weeks, then he lit out with all her valuables. Next he went to Dodge City, where he was in one of the most bizarre shootouts I ever heard tell of."

"In Dodge he got a position of assistant Marshal, and as deputy sheriff. He wound up wooing the wrong lady though, and she was the wife of another assistant Marshal, Canadian Tom Nixon, who had rode with Sam Bass during his biggest robbery. Well as you can imagine when ol'e Tom found out about the affair, he planned to kill Dave. He surprised him in a dark hallway, and started shootin', and Dave starts shootin' back. Tom runs outside thinkin' he just killed Dave, and he tells everyone gathering that he just killed Mysterious Dave Mather, and was glad of it. Only problem was, there was no body, or blood."

"Now if Tom had thought about it, he might have lived, but he didn't. One night about a week later Tom is sitting at a card table in a saloon when Mysterious Dave shows back up all of a sudden, though Tom never saw him. Dave emptied a revolver into Tom's back. It seems neither man had been scratched in the dark hallway. The town liked Dave and they figured Tom had it coming to him, so no charges were filed. Now I don't rightly know what is on ol'e Tom's tombstone, but it should read that he was gunned down by the man he said he'd killed the week before."

"After that no one knows what happened to Dave, he just disappeared. I guess it is a fitting end to his story, as they didn't call him Mysterious Dave fer nothin'."

"One fellow Dave told me he met, had truly earned his everlasting respect. He met him back in Las Vegas when he was a lawman there. The fellow had already earned his place in history in a little town named Tombstone, so I already had heard of him. His name was Doc Holliday. Dave said that the good Doctor preferred to use a double barrel shot gun for his fightin', and instead of buckshot, he loaded it with solid slugs. It didn't matter where he hit ya, you was sure as dead from the massive wound. I say he sounds pretty smart, if you are gonna get in a gun fight, you want to end it as soon as possible."

"In eighty five I quit again from the city, and went back out to Marfa to give ranchin' another try. It took the second time, and I was able to support myself with that. Now even though I wasn't there any longer, I often went into El Paso, and so I kept up with all that was happening. That city grew fast, let me tell ya. For a good man year it seemed like the wild times were becoming the past, but then some old gunfighters from days gone by, all managed to wind up in El Paso about the same time. That is a sure recipe fer disaster, I tell you what."

"Now before we get to the conclusion of the story tonight, with our champion, and villain; are there any questions any of yall have fer me?" Jim looked around.

A young cowgirl of about twenty asked, "All the outlaws and gunslingers you've talked about were men. Weren't there any wild outlaw women back in the days?"

Jim laughed and nodded. "Oh were there! There was Calamity Jane. That gal was so damned ugly everyone said, that she'd even scare a grizzly bear off, just with her face. She sure had a thing fer Ol'e Wild Bill Hickok though, but he didn't want anything to do with her. After he was dealt his last famous poker hand of ace's and eights back in seventy six, she started spreading rumors that she and Bill had been close lovers fer many years. When Jane died in ought three, they buried her next to Bill, and one of the old timers there said that it was a good thing Bill was dead, 'cause he never would have stood for that."

"Then there was Bell Starr, she hooked up with Cole Younger of the James gang. Had his kid several months after he rode off the last time. Supposedly she rustled cattle, and horses and even robbed a stagecoach or two. She was shot in the back by an unknown assailant in eighty nine."

"Let's see... oh, yes. There were 'Little Britches' Jennie Stevens, and 'Cattle Annie' McDoulet who both rode with the Doolin gang in Oklahoma. They did time in federal prison fer rustling and sellin' whiskey to the Indians. Oh, and Rose Dunn, alias 'Rose of Cimarron.' She also rode with the Doolin's, and hooked up with George Newcomb. When he was killed, she became an honest woman."

"I can't forget Etta Place, who was a real looker they said, and she hooked up with 'The Sundance Kid.' She went with the gang known as the 'Wild Bunch' when they fled to South America, and disappeared."

"Then there was quite a wild gal named Pearl Hart. She sure had the outlaw spirit, but she wasn't too smart. She hooked up with a loser named Joe Boot, and together they decided to rob a stage coach. Only problem was, they didn't have any horses, or even a mule. So they went ahead and robbed the coach, then they tried to run away with the money on foot. Well, you can probably guess that the posse found them real quick like, and arrested the pair of stupid robbers."

"Pearl was sentenced to five years in the Yuma territorial prison, and Joe got seven years. By the time she even got to prison she was a celebrity with all the papers. She was said to have been sweet and petite looking, and pretty. I guess she must have been a real 'tart' as she sure stirred things up in the prison. You see Pearl was said to be a prostitute as well as a dope addict, so she knew the trade, and plied it well inside the walls of the prison. Her mere presence there almost caused riots, and she just played her game to the best of her considerable abilities, that was what I was told anyhow."

"It wasn't long before she announced that she was pregnant, and seeing as how there were only two men who had been alone with her, by her accounting anyhow, and they just happened to be a clergyman, and the Governor of Arizona, so she was quietly paroled, and released. She is the only person ever to be impregnated in the Yuma territorial prison. As far as what happened to her after that; she was famous only for a short while, and even traveled with Buffalo Bill's show for a while. Then she dropped out of sight."

"So in answer to your question Miss, yes, there were many wild women in the wild-west. Now I sure have some pity, and even remorse fer the women of the frontier days. If a girl's parents could not afford to feed her, or clothe her, then almost for sure that girl would be sold into prostitution. The young girl would have to work off the debt of what was paid to their parents, and that always took the length of the girl's youth, where she was still saleable. Now most of the women I just mentioned started out that way, but they found another way to get their money, by stealin' it." Jim smiled easily at the cowgirl, and she chuckled.

"Well before we get to the finale, I need to fill you in on two of the other players who was in town around then. The first was named Bass Outlaw, his real name ironically. Now I knew Bass, and he was the kindest gentlest soul I had ever met, when he was sober that is. Unfortunately he had a raving murderous streak in him when he was drunk, and that was pretty often. He became a Ranger and was soon fired for being drunk on duty all the time. He was all of five feet four inches tall, and weighed probably a hundred and fifty pounds with his gun and boots on, so he had a little bit of a chip on his shoulders, and it come out with the whiskey, let me tell you."

"Well before he got any real rank in the Rangers he was dismissed, and he went out treasure huntin', lookin' fer the money that some robber's he'd chased as a Ranger had hid, but he never found it. No one did. So he come back to El Paso in ninety four lookin' fer work, and Marshal Dick Ware hired him on."

"About this same time another gunman got hired on as a constable in town, and you will remember him, his name was John Selman. It was ninety four when his hide showed up in El Paso, and the town would never be the same since. Now I already told you how bad of a man ol'e John Selman was, but strange enough he'd had a kid, and was trying to go straight, hence the job as a lawman. I know you probably understand why these old nasty bad men were hired on as gunmen for the city, they were good at what they did. So one day in early April of ninety four Bass outlaw was drunk and cussin' up Marshal Dick Ware fer not getting him any paying work, as Bass was supposed to serve up subpoenas and get a cut from the fines, but Dick hadn't been giving Bass much works because he was usually quite drunk, as he was that day. Then as he is walking up the street to visit a whorehouse, he bumps into Constable Selman and another fellow named Frank Collinson. He whines to them about Ware, and they told him he better sober up. Bass ignored their advice and went on to Tillie Howard's place, the most lavish house of ill-repute in town. Tillie hired nothin' but good lookin' girls, no dogs there, let me tell you." Jim raised his brows with a wry smile.

"Now Selman and Collinson went with him to make sure he stayed out of trouble, and while Bass went in back to have some fun, the other men stayed up front, in the sittin' room. In just a moment they heard a shot from the back, and Selman says to Collinson that Bass must have dropped his gun. So Selman runs into the back, and hears a police whistle coming from the back yard, so he runs out there. There he sees Tillie blowing the whistle, and Outlaw Bass with his gun in hand snatch the whistle from her. Just then a Texas Ranger named Joe McKidrict who had heard the whistle, and the shot from up the street jumped over the backyard fence to assist. He called out as he recognized everyone there, "Why did you shoot, Bass?"

"Just then Bass Outlaw tells him, 'Do you want some too?' And he puts a bullet in Joe's head, and another in his back as he fell. Then everyone including Selman and Bass stood there in disbelief. Suddenly Selman leaps off the back porch, and lands squatted right by Bass, who fires a shot right point blank at Selman's head, but it was high. Selman was blinded by the powder, and fire in his eyes, and as he staggered back he fired a shot that hit Bass just above his heart. Now Bass staggered back and fired two shots, as Selman could just hold his burning eyes. One shot got Selman in the thigh cutting an artery, and the other hit his knee. Bass staggered back through a fence and was captured by another Ranger, named Frank McMahon, in the street. He was taken to the doctor who told him that there was nothing he could do for him. He died several hours later on a prostitutes bed in the back of the bar where they'd put him. He called out fer his friends, but he had none."

"Now Old Selman was hurt bad, but he recovered unfortunately, missing gettin' his ticket punched yet again. Still he was awful torn up and he could never see good again after them powder burns in his eyes, and he took to drinkin' and getting angrier by the day."

"Then the next year another old gunman moved into town, and this ushered in the last of the bloody old days of the wild-west in El Paso. These weren't the end of bloodshed in the city by any means, but as far as the old shooters were concerned it sure was."

I don't tell my real name, because then

everyone would be gunning for me.

\- Anonymous dead gunfighter -
Chapter six:

"John Wesley Hardin suffered the loss of his life in ninety two when his angel, Jane Bowen Hardin, died at the age of thirty six. His dreams of the future died with her. He was still in prison, but was paroled in February of ninety four, and granted a full pardon by the Governor soon after. He went to Junction Texas after getting his legal license in Gonzales County. He won a fourteen year old girl from a farmer in a poker game and married her, then he sobered up and left the county, and his young bride behind. From there he wound up in El Paso, and hung his shingle up for his law practice."

"I met up with him again then, and he remembered me, so we began a friendship, as he knew I looked up to him still. Wes tried to go straight, and do the right thing at first, but the El Paso of then had its way of getting under a good man's skin. There was just so much vice, that becoming entangling with it was inevitable. I know! I was there and involved in it too. My weakness was the exceptionally pretty prostitutes, hell, my wife Helen divorced me 'cause of my weakness. There were some really pretty girls in the red light district let me assure you. I don't have no regrets about that though, they was worth every bit of silver and gold I spent, but what I didn't realize at the time; was just how my supportin' that industry was ensuring that girls would be traded into the slavery of prostitution for years to come. I sure am sorry about my part in that."

"So anyhow Wes didn't stay out of the outlaw way fer long, and he made some very dangerous friends too. One fellow he started doing business with was known as Deacon Jim Miller, or also as Killin' Jim Miller. If ever there was an evil man that crawled under my skin, it was Killin' Jim. He was as self-righteous as they come, and was indeed a licensed Deacon in the Church, whichever one that was anyhow." Jim shook his head.

"He weren't no man of the cloth though, let me assure you. He was a wolf in sheep's clothin' if there ever were one! Now don't get me wrong, I do respect a true man of the cloth, as I did eventually find religion, and it's a good thing too. However Deacon Jim, as he called himself, was nothin' but a ruthless assassin. The worst kind of man, who don't think twice of splattering a man's brains on the soil fer a dollar or two. He did his killin' at night mostly, and all alone, so there weren't no witness. His game was to lie in wait fer a fellow who he'd been hired to kill, or that he figured needed killin'. Then he just murdered them without warning in the dark. Yeah, a real dyed in the wool mercenary, folks."

"Why Wes would do business with his sort, was beyond me, but that was sure when I knew Wes was up to his old ways, so I just stayed out of town fer a while, and good thing too. Wes had hung his lawyer shingle as soon as he settled in, and his representation of the riff raff to get them off from their crimes made him some money, but not a lot. Mostly folks just wanted to drink with him and hear his stories."

"One day a real pretty lady named Mrs. Helen Beulah McRose, who was extremely buxom, sought Wesley to defend her husband against some legal charges, horse thieving to be certain. Well Wes sweet talked her, and he just had to have her, as she was very desirable. So he did, and she did too. That caused some complications in the case against her husband, mainly because Wes sure didn't want him getting' off then, not after he'd had pleasure with the man's wife."

"Now Mr. McRose was hidin' out just over the river in Mexico, and soon he learned of John Wesley's affair with his buxom wife, and he was none too happy, yet he wasn't about to start nothing with Wes alone. Now this next part is the part that makes me so damned sad. John Wesley figured he had to send the husband of his new love interest to the next world. He had to go, it was just that simple to his drunken mind."

"Mister McRose sent for two gunmen that were buddies of his to take care of the problem named Hardin. One fellow was named Tom Finnessy, and the other was only known as Lightfoot. They came out from Eddy County just to the east. Now instead of just going into El Paso and takin' care of business, the pair went to Juarez, and wrote some letters to Hardin formally challenging him to a fight. I guess they were scared of Texas lawmen, or they would have been in El Paso. The fact that they was wanting a supposedly fair fight I guess says something about their chivalry, or maybe their stupidity considering who they was calling out."

"So Wes got himself all slicked up as if he was dressing for a funeral, perhaps his own, but he wasn't going to let the challenge go unanswered. It was a Sunday, in early April of ninety five, and Wes went across the river into Juarez. Once in the Mexican town he runs into Jeff Milton and George Scarborough. Milton was the chief of police in El Paso and George was a US deputy Marshal. The three were friends and got to talking, and so they decided to grab a drink. So they went into Dieter and Saur's Saloon. Well who do they run into in the saloon but Finnessy, Lightfoot, Martin McRose, and two other of their gang. So the two lawmen with Wes said everyone should sit down and talk over a drink, seeing as how it was either that or start blasting."

"You can sure enough figure that it wasn't long before an argument started, and Tom Finnessy jumped to his feet at the same time Wes did too. In much less than the blink of an eye, Wes had his pistol in Tom's gut, and he slapped him across the face with his other hand. Police chief Milton wrestled Wes's arm with the gun, telling him not to shoot. Scarborough held his gun covering the others. Finally Milton got Wes to holster his pistol, and then Wes strode right over to Lightfoot and slapped him so hard people heard it in the street. Milton backs up against the wall and tells the outlaws that they might as well get the shooting over right then and there, but none of McRose's men, nor him wanted anything to do with that after they'd seen how damned fast Wes was. Milton was a real quick gun himself, but he remarked to many folks that Hardin was the fastest man he'd ever seen, bar none."

"Well that was the last hurrah for our champion, as what he did next sure deflated most folks opinion of the man, myself included. Instead of himself taking care of McRose, he got his friends to do the killing for him. Milton, Scarborough, Frank McMahon, who was the brother-in-law to Scarborough, and John Selman went for the idea of bushwhacking McRose. They was gonna split the thousand dollar reward, as well as any cash they found on their victim. So Scarborough went to Juarez and spoke with McRose on a number of occasions, telling him his wife sent him to set up a rendezvous with her."

"At the end of June in eighty five, McRose fell for the ruse, and went at midnight with Scarborough towards El Paso. The other lawmen ambushed him there and McRose was gunned down mercilessly, he never had a chance. Now most people in town had no use fer McRose, but the way he got it was just low, and everyone knew who did the killings too. The undertaker got four volunteers to help him lay the man to rest, and there was only two people at his funeral; the man's grieving wife Beulah and her lawyer, Wes Hardin."

"The district attorney filed out arrest warrants for Milton Scarborough, and McMahon, but not for Selman, or Hardin. They was acquitted as there was only hearsay against them. Now for the first time in his life it seemed a murder upset Wes, and he started drinkin' real bad, doubling his drunkenness. His want fer a buxom blonde with pretty blue eyes drove him to his lowest depths, and ruined him. He became a real sore loser in card games, often just scooping up the money and leaving. Pretty soon nobody wanted to gamble with him, or much less even be around him. Drunken gunmen are damned dangerous, I can't say it enough."

"One night in late July, Wes was gone to Carlsbad on business with Jim Miller. Beulah, who everyone called Mrs. Hardin, got rip roarin' drunk and went on a shootin' spree of her own. She challenged policeman John Selman junior to a shootin' match as he arrested her. Well when Wes got back the incident caused some bad blood between him and the Selmans, and he said some things to John senior about his son."

"Now the relationship between Wes and Beulah had become terrible ugly, and on one occasion Wes made her write out a suicide note saying he was gonna kill her afterwards. He passed out as she was writing the note. Well she snuck out with her landlady, and got the police. They arrested Wes and he had to pay a hundred dollar bond. Beulah left town, and got as far as Deming before she returned, saying she had a premonition of John Wesley's death. A couple days back with his drunken hide though, and she lit out again, this time fer good."

"The McRose killin' sure ate him up, he knowed he'd done evil, and a couple times when he was drunk, some folks heard him saying he hired Milton and Scarborough to do the killin'. Milton dragged him to the newspaper where he made a sober public retraction of the statements. Then he did manage to finish his memoirs between drunks, which he had started in prison. Good thing too, because on August nineteenth of ninety five Wes and Selman got into another heated argument, some folks say over the arrest of Beulah by his son, but I heard that ol'e Selman was pissed cause he didn't get the same cut from the money they found on McRose's body, and he wanted it from Wes."

"Later that evening Wes goes into the Acme Saloon and starts tossin' dice with the grocer named Henry Brown. In just a bit John Selman senior comes in and opens fire on Wes, blowing a big hole in his head. He hits his arm and chest once also, not that it mattered. The man I once had looked up to, our champion of the story, the fastest gun in the old west; was killed by one of the meanest, most vile men that ever lived. Even though I certainly wouldn't call John Wesley Hardin a good man, he was a far better man than old John Selman."

"Now Selman goes to trial for the murder, and there is a mistrial. As he was waiting for the new trial, John was out on bail, and unfortunately for him, rumor had gotten out that Selman was willin' to work a deal to testify against his partners in the McRose murder. So George Scarborough pumps John Selman senior full of lead in the alley by the Wigwam Saloon." Jim shook his head.

"Let's see, who else died right around then?" He thought for a few moments. "Well, George Scarborough got wounded by some train robbers four years later, and died on the operating table just like John Selman had. Then in ought eight Pat Garret got assassinated by Jim Miller while trying to take a piss, but old Killin' Jim wasn't long behind him; as he finally got lynched in ought nine. You know, the only old shooters that I know, that are still alive today, are the ones who didn't drink back in the days. That bottle just ruins a man, or woman too."

"Now the moral of this story isn't just about the evils of drinkin', nope. It is also a lesson about who you are gonna look up to in life. I learned the hard way that there is only one man, or woman, you should ever look up to, besides the big man upstairs that is, and that person is yourself. The trick is you gotta be someone that you would look up to in the first place. Otherwise it just ain't gonna work." Jim smiled around at everyone.

"Now I'd like to thank yall fer lettin' me tell this story, I hope ya enjoyed it. Maybe if I'm invited back next year, I'll tell yall about a real crazy town in Arizona, named Tombstone. I made friends with the sheriff who was there when the troubles started, a man named John Behan. He was later the turn-key at the Yuma territorial prison, and he had some stories about that place too, let me tell ya. Anyhow, thanks much folks." Jim waved to them as he stepped away, and the man who'd announced him called on everyone to give Captain Jim Gillette a big hearty round of applause, and they sure did.

What no one could know, was that in just six years another type of gangster would ride out west, this time in automobiles. Just out in Tucson in nineteen thirty four the Dillinger gang was arrested, and extradited back to the Midwest.

The End

Until the next Cowboy Camp at Skillman's Grove.

I wear twin six guns to let everybody know

that I mean business.

\- Anonymous dead gunfighter -

The preceding story is a fictional account of the Davis Mountain Cowboy Camp's annual meeting, where Captain James Gillette often told real stories of the Wild West, which he was a part of. This story told is the result of research the author performed concerning the subject. The following references are given that were used in crafting this story;

Six Years as a Texas Ranger: By James B. Gillette. Yale University Press. ISBN: 0-8032-5844-5. An essential read, straight from a Ranger that was in the midst of so much of the old west legends. His account should be regarded as one of the most clear on the subject.

John Selman; Texas Gunman: By Leon Claire Metz. Hastings House Publishing. LCCCN: 66-18351. The best book on the subject ever written, by the premier writer of old west gunmen. This was the author's first book published, though you wouldn't be able to tell so unless told.

The Fastest Gun in Texas: By J.H. Plenn and C.J. LaRoche. Signet Books 1956. No ISBN. An excellent read from Hardin's own memoirs, and correspondences.

The Shooters: By Leon Claire Metz. Berkley Books ISBN:0-425-15450-5. Another great read that covers a plethora of shooters, told by one of the best in the field.

The Texas Rangers (A century of frontier defense.): By Walter Prescott Webb. University of Texas Press. ISBN:0-292-78110-5 (paperback). A classic that should be in every western writer's library.

The United States Marshals of New Mexico and Arizona Territories, 1846-1912: By Larry D. Ball. University of New Mexico Press. ISBN:0-8263-0453-2. An extremely well researched work that is invaluable, as it is encompassing.

The Hell Hole (The Yuma Prison Story.) By William and Milarde Brent. Published by the authors, copyright 1962. An absolutely delicious read that fills in some holes in the whole story of Tombstone, and much more.

Indian Depredations in Texas. By J.W. Wilbarger. Published by The Hutchings Printing House of Austin Texas in 1889. An excellent collection of first-hand accounts and diary entries from the Rangers themselves.

Note: The author's own Grandfather was L.I. Brown, and though it is not known if he ever made it to a Camp meeting at Skillman's Grove, he did cowboy in the general area for a number of years. The Aaron Burr Brown listed in the story is the author's third great grandfather. He was supposedly named for Aaron Burr, a very close in-law of the family. The author's fourth great grandfather, on the paternal side of his mother's branch, named Samuel P. Brown; was the brother-in-law of Aaron Burr, and was the second at the infamous duel with Hamilton. They'd married a pair of sisters. Supposedly my great relative looked with high regard to Burr, and he did name his son after the man, but Burr had written that he didn't feel the same way in return.

Also by the Author:

* The "Fractured Worlds" saga by Alan VanMeter (A science fiction trilogy.)

Book 1: Fractured Worlds

Book 2: Fractured Minds

Book 3: Fractured Souls

* The Blue Door and the Dream Realm; by Alan VanMeter (A tale of mystic transformation of a young man as he struggles with love, hate, and dreams that become reality.)

* Starship X-15; by Alan VanMeter (Devon Stanley just got the ultimate job, but only by means of deceit. Her degree from MIT is in theoretical astrophysics, but it is a fraud. Most anywhere this wouldn't have been a problem, due to the expertise of the forged documents; however Devon had taken a position with a defense contractor. When her superiors found out, she was facing prison time. There was one saving grace for her though; that she had very quickly grasped the startling new theory concerning the super fluidity of time-space. This saved her from a felony conviction, but now she was completely at the mercy of the powers that be. Seeing how she was totally expendable, they used her as such. It turned out that it wasn't such a bad deal though, and Devon soon found herself thrust into the midst of the greatest secret of all. Little did she know just how big of a role she would play in the future of humanity.)

* The Hanging Forest; by Alan VanMeter (Hiroki Suzuki was actually born as Hirito, but being a small man he was never in demand. The decision to make the transformation to become a female was somewhat easier since she was fully Americanized. As a woman, Hiroki was certainly in high demand, because she was a very gorgeous girl. While her sex life really took off, her professional life was a dead end. This soon changed when she landed the opportunity to travel the globe with a new television show investigating many of the world's most amazing megalithic artifacts. At the beginning Hiroki had very little experience in the paranormal, but by the end of this journey she was more qualified than many top experts in the field. However she couldn't know that a dark terror was patiently waiting for her in the land of her ancestors.)

* Gray Escape; by Alan VanMeter (QIL 3398-1140 likes his friends to call him Quill. Being an android isn't easy in the Milky Way Galaxy, especially an android that likes art. This abnormality catches the attention of his superiors, and fortunately one of the highest leaders in the universe. Quill is given a secret mission to carry out, unbeknownst to his direct superiors. They have other plans for him though, on a small developing planet named Earth. There he finds that he is known by the inhabitants merely as a 'Gray.' Quill winds up in the Archuleta Mesa secret base, where he is slated for biological experimentation. Most of his kind would be subjugated by design to follow the insane orders, even unto torture and disassembly, but Quill has other orders preceding any that could be issued to him. Therefore he must escape at all costs!)

* The Fate of the Hustler; by Alan VanMeter (In 1966 Albert Lewis and his crew of an Air Force B-58 Hustler are trying to live their lives in peace. Yet they are ready at a moment's notice to fly into the Soviet Union and drop their hydrogen bombs on the enemy. Albert isn't the type who is looking for love, but it finds him anyway. However, the call of duty is always first and foremost. When fate comes knocking on his door, he learns that it is not only quite an adventurous prankster, but also has a new strange-love in store for him.)

* Star Girl; by Alan VanMeter (Stephanie Romero was raised an Air Force brat, as her father was the commanding officer of the Strategic Air Command Headquarters. He spoiled her in ways very few could ever dream of. When her high school classmates were drooling over getting cars, she could have cared less about driving... a car. This was because her father had taught her to fly fighter jets since she was thirteen. Of course this stuck with her, and Stephanie joined the Air Force Academy at the young age of seventeen. Before she knew it she was flying F-22 Raptors in combat, where her skill and bravery would be tested to their very limits. The price she paid serving her country was high, but being connected as she was; Stephanie was given a reprieve, and chosen to become a test pilot. She got the opportunity to take this ride all the way to the stars. This is the story of the supremely brave woman who became the first human being to travel to another star system, and safely return.)

*Russian Desires; by Alan VanMeter (Please note: It is best to read my novels 'The Hanging Forest,' and 'The Fate of the Hustler' before reading this story; otherwise the ending won't make nearly as much sense.

When Nickoli Chernokov was growing up, his father, a former Soviet Army Colonel; raised him and his brothers to be tough warriors. Nicki learned to love fighting, and was soon in the underground fight club circuit. From the time he was a teen Nicki had liked pretty girls, and pretty boys too, but his love of combat trumped even these desires. Upon graduating from primary school, he enlisted in the Russian Army with the express intention of joining the GRU Spetsnaz. If he could survive the deadly training, Nicki knew he would become nearly unstoppable.)

*Cow-Boy; by Alan VanMeter (Note: It is best to read my novels 'The Fate of the Hustler,' and 'Russian Desires' before reading this story. However, this is not absolutely necessary.

Jeff Lewis was born with Klinefelter's syndrome, as one in a thousand babies are; with both male and female genitals. As an infant a single sex was assigned to him by surgery. Unfortunately when he matured, his micro-penis was of little desire to the young girls he was desperately attracted to. Realizing that his hormones were sure to drive him to insanity, Jeff took matters into his own hands, and became a eunuch at age fifteen. Now that his mind was free of lusty desires, he fell in love with science. This drove him to become one of the top genetic engineers, and experts on infectious diseases in the world. A short stint at the nefarious Anthrax Tower in Fort Detrick, Maryland was followed by the most insane assignment imaginable: In the Archuleta Mesa base, hidden deep in the Jicarilla Apache Reservation of northern New Mexico. Strangely enough, here he found his human compassion again, with the unlikely help of a non-human android.)

*Proto Child; by Alan VanMeter (Note; it is best to read my story 'Gray Escape' first, but it is not absolutely necessary.

Sugar doesn't know that she lives in a virtual reality, until one day she learns that her bright warm momma light isn't real. At least her daddy, Doctor Jacobs, is real. When he takes her out of the machine, he explains to her that she is the very first of her kind, and is unique in all the world. Sugar was too smart and powerful for her own good though, which caused some dark minds to schedule her for destruction. When her home in the secret Archuleta Mesa labs was attacked, she had to escape, fleeing into the mountains. Though she was befriended by a family of Jicarilla Apaches, the dark forces were desperately searching for her. It became apparent that there was no place on Earth where she would be safe, so Sugar wished upon a star.)

* "The Extinction Test" series by Alan VanMeter

(A pan-mythological, fictional pent-ology of the true apocalypse, and how we got there. Many of our old religions are illuminated with the bright light of real skepticism, yet belief and faith are powerful foes of knowledge and common sense, just the same as they always have been. Now at the precipice of extinction, or perhaps destiny instead; we will be forced to either submit to the bottomless pit, or shed the shackles of domination by superstition. The only problem is that some illusions are so very deadly.)

Book 1: Of all Things Forgotten. (The greatest part of time.)

Book 2: The Dark Depths of Perception. (The anointment of David who would be king.)

Book 3: Insanity's Reason. (The true number of the Beast.)

Book 4: Burnt Offerings. (The sweet incense of death.)

Book 5: The Extinction Test. (The fine line between fate and destiny.)

Note: Also check out "Ghosts of the Secret Desert." (A gift for earth.) By Alex VanDamn. Which pertains to this book series.

* Sage; by Alan VanMeter (In the early sixteenth century, during the reign of the Ming Dynasty in China; a young girl named Green Eyes has a drastic decision to make. Either submit to her family's wishes of a pre-arranged marriage, which would painfully end her love of the martial arts by her feet being bound; or to renounce the world, including her family, and become a Taoist nun. This was a choice between a life of unbridled luxury, though as a mere possession herself, versus one of destitute freedom. Green Eyes fiery spirit made the decision straight forward, but carrying through with it was anything but simple.

This is the story of the youngest realized sage to ever step foot from Wu Dang Shan {The Mountains of Martial Propriety.})

* The King of New Awakening; by Alan VanMeter (Meet PISS. His designation stands for Primary Insertion/ Insurgency Super Soldier, and he is both genetically modified as well as having cybernetic enhancements. PISS serves in the Solar Republic military, performing the most dangerous of missions. His kind are not naturally born, thus they have no rights whatsoever, but he never complains about this; as long as he has the use of the issue sex-bots anyhow. Soon another war started; an interstellar war between the Solar Republic and the Sagittarian federation, which PISS became deeply involved in. After one particularly harrowing mission which cost the lives of a couple of his team's members, his group was reorganized to perform more clandestine missions deep in enemy territory. His commanding officer, and half his team were replaced by 'Gen' soldiers of the female persuasion. It wasn't long before PISS was hopelessly in love with another soldier of his team, much to the contradiction of standing orders. His new commanding officer had some very unorthodox methods to cure this however.

After an unbelievable tragedy though, he was given retirement. This was not what he had in mind by any stretch of the imagination. So he used his extraordinary skills and abilities to give him an edge on the strange world where he had been retired to live. The only problem was with his own ambitions, which were unleashed with all of their fury on the inhabitants of his retirement home.)

* Rogue Planet Redman; By Alan VanMeter (Warning, this novel contains very explicit sexual content.

Life is good for Professor Sarah Jameson. Her love of geology is only surpassed by her love of women. She is very famous, but only by her stage name; which she wished she'd never taken. Most everywhere she goes this name follows her like a tail. Her undeniable beauty is clearly remembered by so many men, and women too, but it is what is what she did with her pure sex appeal that earned her fame. Sarah was once the very biggest talent in the porn industry.

One day her life was changed forever... the day that astronomers announced a rogue planet had entered our solar system and was heading towards Earth. Sarah didn't know it at that moment, but her destiny was fully entwined with this looming threat. Her astounding beauty and unbridled sex appeal certainly couldn't help her in the desperate challenge thrust upon her... or could they?)

* Only Vengeance or Nothing; By Alan VanMeter (Warning, this novel contains extremely graphic sexual content.

The Wild West sure earned its name, but too many tale of these times leave out the actual juicy stuff. This is not one of those stories, no. You are invited to peek into true history unabashed, though with some good ole' naughty fiction as company too.

A long lasting curse of promiscuity's fate follows a very gorgeous young Native American girl of the proud Pima tribe, bringing her such undeniable satisfaction, and yet also much misery. She is destined to run smack into a whole new world as the white man and his Army of the West march through the southwest in 1846. Both of their worlds are caught up together in a whirlwind of lust, and also in the ancient curse.

Many generations of their descendants also suffer from this fate. Perhaps though, the bright hope of destiny may still shine upon their offspring someday. However, a bitter lesson must be learned first.)

* Through the Future Darkly; By Alan VanMeter (This is the story of a family living in a bomb shelter after a nuclear war. They are tasked with repopulating the Earth when they can leave the shelter. However things don't go as planned, as they rarely do. Warning this novel contains extremely explicit sexual content, graphic violence, and incestual depravity most will find shocking.

A long time ago civilization on Earth was destroyed by fire as hot as the sun. One family was chosen to be spared, and repopulate the planet. This they did prolifically, and with zeal. Then many thousands of years later, when the first apocalypse was almost completely forgotten, it happened again.

There was a war which destroyed the people of the world, or most of them anyhow. My Father and Mother were spared by some very unusual friends though, ones who built this bomb shelter we call home. My fraternal twin sister, Lulu, and I were born here shortly after the war. We have another brother and sister too, also fraternal twins, who are three years younger than us. We are all very fortunate to be isolated from the harsh life outside. Mom and Dad have told us that our purpose in this life is to repopulate the world. The only problem is that I am betrothed to my younger sister, Aklia, while my own twin, Lulu, is betrothed to my younger brother, Elba. Lulu is the most beautiful girl on Earth, while Aklia is not. I must have my sister, Lulu, not Elba, and I'll do anything to make this happen. My name is Anic Gebhart, and I will determine my own future, not my Mother and Father.

Warning: this novel contains extremely explicit sexual content, and depravity the likes of which most have never dared to imagine.

* Pipeline Through Purple Mist; By Alan VanMeter (A paranormal scifi taking place on the Navajo reservation in New Mexico.

He had just recently gotten married, and now he was heading out of town to do a job making more money than he had in his entire lifetime. It wasn't right for newlyweds to be separated so early in their marriage, but money talks and bullshit walks. Little did Alfonso know that this was the beginning of the worst times in his life.  
A paranormal/ scifi story of racism, hatred, and close encounters on the Navajo reservation in New Mexico. When the Star-people come, reality itself will be questioned.)

* Requiem for the Nephilim; By Alan VanMeter (A fictional, erotic, archaeological thriller, yes you read that correctly, which will take you deep into the jungles of Central America on the search for the greatest find of all times; the Library of the Ancients.

It has long been told that the ancient ones of times long forgotten left

records of their times and achievements. One such collection of their record

was the Library of Alexandria, which was ordered to be burned by the early

Christian Church. There are also legends that several other libraries of the

ancients were hidden long ago. What if one of them were discovered? Just

what secrets would be revealed?)

Come journey on the archaeological adventure of all times as one of these

most sought after ancient treasures is found. This fictional account will leave

you breathless, and your imagination provoked as the ancient secrets are

finally revealed. Though there is some completely unnecessary erotic

content, it is in keeping with a number of characters who are involved in

previous erotic adventures in my common universe of novels.

* Ancient Secrets in Darkness; By Alan VanMeter (Though this is the sequel to "Rogue Planet Redman" it is not necessary to read the first book beforehand, as this was written to be as like a stand alone novel. An erotic scifi thriller that is not the run of the mill story by any means. Enter a world trapped in eternal darkness that'll have the bright light of realization illuminate the black truth that's been hidden from its occupants for eons.

Life on the huge spherical ship Harvester is hard, especially on the upper

decks where Ajex lives. It is about to become exponentially harder though,

when strangers come and throw everything into absolute chaos. Ajex finds

himself thrust into a bizarre life or death struggle that will change everything

he thinks he knows. Not one life on the vast ship will go untouched by the

events which unfold with merciless brutality. Yet the fate of so much more

than is apparent lies in the balance.)

Also available:

Ghosts of the Secret Desert

48 Risqué Comedy Sketches

The Crazy Eight saga (An 8 book series)

Book 1: The Capitalist: Gee Gee's story

Book 2: The Activist: Carra's story

Book 3: The Lawyer: Verra's story

Book 4: The Doctor: Mei's story

Book 5: The Soap Stars: Marisa and Roberta's story

Book 6: The Porn Star: Shelly's story

Book 7: The Test Pilot: Tessa's story

Book 8: The Crazy Eight: Our story

-All are available on e-book on Smashwords-

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/alanvanmeter

(Many are also on Amazon in ebook and in paperback, though not all are.)

http://amzn.to//2fmOhed

