Bücher von Short Luke Short

Word came to cowpuncher Dave Wallace that his friend Tip Macy had frozen to death in a blizzard. Wallace knew it was a damn lie. That's why he had a chip on his shoulder and a .44 at his side when he rode into town. But all that got him was a fast trip to the hoosegow on a trumped-up murder charge. With the hanging tree waiting, he had two chances of staying alive: slim and none. Then Lady Luck upped his odds. Her name was Beth...a gal hardhearted and pretty, and his last hope of getting free to hunt a killer down.

With a smoking rifle and a stinging lash, it was Gannon's job to cut a path through the outlaw gangs grown thick as a mesquite over the Midland stage route. The final challenge came when a hardcase crew knocked over one of his coaches carrying a heavy load of gleaming double eagles. But this time they didn't just take the gold-they gutshot Gannon's men and left them to die in agony. The bandits had shown no mercy. Neither would Gannon. Now they would have a free-wheeling range war that could only end in a triple hanging...or a funeral for Will Gannon.

They wanted his land. They should have taken his life.He'd shot to defend his property. Now Hobe Carew was wanted by the law. First Hobe found an ally in a half-breed named Jim. Then he found a friend in a runaway girl and a good reason to come back to Two Rivers, where his cabin had been burned down. Lew Seely owned half the grass in the county; now he wanted Hobe's. But Seely just couldn't fathom a small man's will to take a stand, or the kind of battle that was about to blaze in the dust.

"Trouble I asked for. Trouble I owed. Trouble I'm glad I had."This is Hanaway speaking. Hanaway-a new kind of hero for the Old West. A big man with a big conscience-as big as the West. He's tall, long-jawed, stubble-bearded, covered with dust. He ain't handsome but he's pleasant. Even when he rides into a Cowtown on a dead man's errand: clean up the dirty business surrounding the Kittrick Consolidated Gold Mine. Nothing stops Hanaway-not the sheriff, not the town, not a killer, not even a pretty little lady named Carrie.

Two desperate gangs-and the man who stood between them.Burt Hethridge had ruled the Triangle H and the people of Pitkin with an iron fist. When the old man died, the whole town exploded in a wild, blood-letting spree. The violence mounted until it seemed as if nothing would be left of Pitkin but dead men and prairie dust. Jim Donovan was a lawyer, not a lawman-but he knew that in a town gone mad, the last sane man becomes the law!