Steve Frazee: 2 books

As a boy he had a look of gaunt horror about him. As a man he had the cold look of the eternal searcher. The boy walked out of the wilderness in the late summer of 1855, carrying the sun-blackened remains of a jack rabbit he had been eating on for two days. He had been alone in there...

Sexton hit him! His big fist bulged tight around fifteen silver dollars - a lethal weight. Irv Stalcup went down with the blow like a poleaxed steer. “That does it,” thought Sexton, as he quietly dropped the coins in his pocket. Suddenly the crowd gasped. Irv Stalcup was getting...