President Hayes sent a message to U. S. Marshal M D (Shorty) Thompson at old Fort Tularosa, New Mexico Territory. He was to investigate why so many mine owners are turning up dead. Also while he was there, find out why ore samples do not match the ore quality when it gets to U. S. Government Mints in Nevada and California. During his investigation, while riding down Burns Gulch, Shorty is shot in the head and is in a coma for well over a month. When he comes to, he has no memory of who he is or why he is there.

Saddle up and ride the same wild lonesome trails as U S Marshal Shorty Thompson did in the 1870’s thru the 1890’s. Short of stature but a heart as big as the Southwestern sky, Marshal Thompson traveled throughout the territories of the nineteenth century New Mexico and Arizona during the height of America’s expansion westward. From rough and tumble gold and silver mining country to savage wide open high plains, the Marshal pursued outlaws and rustlers, extending the rule of law to the new territories.

Saddle up and ride the same wild lonesome trails as U S Marshal Shorty Thompson did in the 1870’s thru the 1890’s. Short of stature but a heart as big as the Southwestern sky, Marshal Thompson traveled throughout the territories of the nineteenth century New Mexico and Arizona during the height of America’s expansion westward. From rough and tumble gold and silver mining country to savage wide open high plains, the Marshal pursued outlaws and rustlers, extending the rule of law to the new territories. From Wyoming to California he traveled by horseback, stagecoach and train to end the careers of ruthless gold and silver stealing, cattle rustling, land grabbing thieves and murderers. Fell the dry heat of hot desert floors and the bitter cold of snow covered mountain passes, as he gets shot, survives as he goes after the lawless man. Though the novels are written about things that happened over one hundred and forty years ago, many of the old towns can be visited today. The names of towns in the novels are the same as back in the nineteenth century. Many are in ruins, destroyed, but others still survive as haunting ghost towns. Even fewer grew and prospered into our modern cities of today. With the passing of time, some of the names might have changed, but western history lives on to be revisited in the Shorty Thompson U S Marshal Series.

The 1870s. As opposed to the myths of popular culture, not everybody was swaggering around with six-irons strapped down and leading lives of mayhem. But there were the exceptions—every bit as evil, bloody and deadly as legends portray. And so too, was the law that handled these outlaws. In the mold of men like Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp, M D "Shorty" Thompson is just that kind of Short on stature but tall on guts. Hand-picked by President Rutherford B. Hayes, he is one of best. And since United States Marshals of the 1870s handle desperados, this means just about everybody does seem to be using those strapped-down dragoons and wreaking havoc. For Marshal M D Thompson, its the life of a lawman. From frozen plains to burning deserts and from despicable morals to honorable hearts, the southwest is a place of extremes often hard to endure and harder still to accept. Marshal Thompson arrives too late to save the beautiful Sister Anna, who dies in his arms while asking for her priest. And yet Thompson is there to protect the monster accused of the crime. Why he couldn't have been there to save the nun and do justice to the killer is beyond Marshal Thompson's reckoning. But Thompson is the law and he can't just gun down the fierce-looking, 270 pound, 6 feet tall and change "Little Buck" Kilgore. Especially when everybody who is saying that the hombre is guilty, can't say they saw him do it. Marshal Thompson would rather face down a gang of outlaws than untangle such a mess. But if Thompson doesn't find evidence one way or the other—and find it quick—he might just be facing a gang of angry desperados that were previously ordinary folks wanting justice. Narrated in the authentically seasoned dialect of a southwestern storyteller, the Marshal Thompson series pays tribute to the thrilling and heartbreaking hardships of our nation's western history. Accurately reconstructing the sweeping landscapes of the old west, these novels document the times and historical locations largely ignored by writers who have not been there. Paul L Thompson actually has been there, and you will feel like you were there, too.

The 1870s. As opposed to the myths of popular culture, not everybody was swaggering around with six-irons strapped down and leading lives of mayhem. But there were the exceptions—every bit as evil, bloody and deadly as legends portray. And so too, was the law that handled these outlaws. In the mold of men like Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp, M D "Shorty" Thompson is just that kind of Short on stature but tall on guts. Hand-picked by President Rutherford B. Hayes, he is one of best. And since United States Marshals of the 1870s handle desperados this means just about everybody does seem to be using those strapped-down dragoons and wreaking havoc. For Marshal M D Thompson, its the life of a lawman.

A young mother suffers and dies three years after giving birth to her third child. She left behind a nine-year-old son Jimmy, her six-year-old daughter Sara and three year old Tommy. Sam, husband and father blamed the death of his beautiful wife on birthing the last child. Sam turned to drinking and gambling, leaving his three small children alone on their river bottomland. Years pass and Jimmy is twelve, Sara nine and Tommy is now six. It looks as if a new comer to White Water is trying to steal their hard worked fall feed crop and river bottomland. Why would a grown man hire gunfighters and killers just to get a few thousand dollars worth of grain? Do they have something more devious in mind? When little Tommy is kidnapped, they went too far. Nobody messes with Jimmy’s family and gets away with it for long. Now they’ve gone and made a very big, fatal mistake. Yep, they went and made him mad.

A young mother’s heart is most ripped from her body, as she holds her dying baby boy in her arms. Not three feet away lay her dead husband. She saw as two men saddled and stole Morris horses and a third gunned down two of the people she loved most. When the posse came looking for the men, U S Marshal Shorty Thompson would not let her take up the trail after them. A woman’s place is in the home, not riding with a posse. That is all right, she would go alone. She knew how to ride a horse and use her guns as well as any man. Living on a ranch, her husband had taught her everything she needed to know about surviving years ago. She had seen all three faces of the men, and the horses they stole had the Circle M brand. She would know them anywhere and those men she would find no matter how long it took. When found they would face the wrath of her justice, not laws that put them into prison for a few years where they would have every chance to escape. No, these men will know what real fear is as a mother’s wrath slowly, and very painfully destroys them. They would be looking forward to, begging for a quick trip to hell just to get away before she is through. Those men will suffer like no others before them.

When Preaching is Hell When R.B. Handlin’s father passed away, R.B. was twenty-three years old and in his third year of the finest Seminary School in Boston. Notifying his older brother of their father’s death would be nigh on to impossible, as Alexander was out west in the Arizona Territory and had not been heard from in years. R.B. went on with his life, alone. Months later, a letter arrived from Arizona, telling him to come west. Murder was the cause of the death of his brother, Alexander Handlin. It happened in Prescott, Arizona Territory. R.B. is now a rancher with a huge amount of money in the bank, and more at the Wells Fargo Office. The small church, which also served as the schoolhouse, burned to the ground. A rich banker and rancher’s men did it; he is after R.B.’s land and water. R.B. hired men and rebuilt the church, but a short time later, two deputies, which were guarding him lay shot to death in his barn. The only two witnesses told the jury R.B. had gunned them down for no cause. Yes, shot them both in the back. Most men would hang for such a crime, but the banker put the squeeze on the judge’s hand while it was full of cash, and had R.B. sentenced to life in prison instead. If dead, another relative might show up and claim the ranch, as R.B. had done at the death of his brother. With R.B. in prison, the land was abandon, so banker Hampton took it over. Water was not what Hampton after, as everyone was thinking. It was all that gold, Alex Handlin had found before being cowardly shot in the back. With the help of two U S Marshals, R.B. is now out of prison, looking to put the revenge of God on the men responsible for the death of his brother and he wrongfully sent to prison.

Brothers in the Old West were as different as brothers are today. Ranch and farm families had beautiful daughters and healthy hard working sons. If one brother turned bad, most often the other one or two followed in his footsteps. While most young men in the west were very hard-working honest boys, seldom were their deeds of leadership, compassion and caring for others ever heard of. Their families and neighbors were the grateful ones for having known such boys. The few bad ones robbed and killed their way into our history books. Yes history was quick to point this all out, but their fame was most often short-lived and the majority died by violence. It was very rare when one of those boys listened and could be jerked back from the jaws of hell and saved from his headlong, reckless ride down the trail of self-destruction. The boy who reaches out to save another is a caring friend and neighbor.

Jesse Owens was only nine years old when his family pulled up deep roots in their Tennessee Valley coal mining town, and headed west. Riding a borrowed horse, Jesse got to ride drag with the outriders. In Oklahoma Territory, he shot an outlaw in the back while saving one of his fellow outriders. Outlaws kidnapped Jesse’s sister and two of the Stillwell girls in the Texas Panhandle, while the men of the wagon train were off wiping out a Comanchero camp. Jesse and Delbert Fleming rode hard in pursuit of the kidnappers. They found the outlaw camp around mid-night and Jesse sneaked in and got the girls, running off the outlaw’s horses. Jesse was now a hero, at least in the eyes of his sister and

As young families grew, it became harder and harder to feed everyone from what could be grown on forty acres. When a man offered to let several families join his wagon train to the territories, they were ready to improve their lives by going west. Ten young families sign up and head out from Independence, Missouri for the New Mexico Territory. Twenty-five year old Lars Olsen was knifed in the back for uncovering a load of rifles hidden among farm equipment. That left a young wife and seven children to go on alone. Ora May Olsen grieved, but knew she had babies to raise. Friends and neighbors will surely help them survive. As they got to Medicine Lodge Creek in southwestern Kansas, a small band of renegade Indians attacked, killing four men and one woman. As bad as this was, they could not turn back. They had nothing to return to in Missouri. They must keep moving forward. The Spanish people in and around Wagon Mound New Mexico talked them into homesteading right close. Here was plenty of land with water to grow any need. The spoiled son of a rich rancher thought different. He might one day want to graze cattle where these squatters decided to set down roots. Larry Jensen hired gunmen to burn them out, kill their livestock and run them off. The first raid was on Ora May’s farm. There they killed three of her children and their grandmother. Now was the time for Ora May to get good with her dead husband’s forty-five. U S Marshal Shorty Thompson and the cavalry would help round up these killers. After three more raids on the farms, Ora May takes up the trail of Larry Jensen. Weeks later, she is kidnapped and tells her story to the outlaw leader. He turns his gun on Larry and shoots him right between the eyes. It seems as even outlaws live by a code, never harm or kill a woman or child. Larry Jensen will harm no one ever again.

In the spring of 1882, after arriving in the small village of Albuquerque, Lee J Robins got arrested and thrown into jail because he was wearing a gun. A small boy, Lorenzo Baca sees this happen and picks the locks of the jail, and sets him free. That is when he found out it was Emmett Blazedale’s men that had locked him up. This gang of murdering skunks had taken over the small Village of Albuquerque. No way could he fight this large gang alone, but who could he trust getting help? He must bide his time and let no one know why he is here. It is Lee J Robins, the young man Blazedale THE LAST GUN IN TOWN.

Raymond and Harmon Liles stop a gang of outlaws from hanging a black preacher and his Indian lady friend. The outlaws are in a hurry to rob the U S Mint money train, but they will come back and take care of the Liles for interfering with their fun. Riding with the outlaws are two sets of local ranching brothers. The neighboring Lang brothers were not outlaws they just thought hanging a nigger would be fun. Is it too late for them to break away from this gang and run for home, before they get themselves mixed up in more murders and robbery? While drinking in Tascosa, the Crawford brothers were talked into helping rustle their own father's cattle. They had made friends with the wrong men and when caught, their father told them never to return home, not ever or they would hang. After raping two women and killing five family members in the little village of Trujillo, the outlaw gang robs the train leaving a conductor dead and guard shot in the face. The cashier and one guard shot, left for dead. Neighbors and brothers along with two village men take up the trail. Some want to save brothers from hanging while others want revenge for rape and murder. They now have help, as U S Marshal Shorty Thompson joins the chase right outside of Las Vegas, New Mexico. The outlaws pull off the robbery of the U S Denver Mint car without a hitch, even with Shorty and five U S Marshals riding on the same Rio Grande Express train. Law and angry men are already on the outlaws trail, the long chase for justice has begun.

Two years passed and Shorty thought the trouble around Loma Parda and Fort Union, New Mexico Territory was over. He was dead wrong and found the same man, little Buck Kilgore was again charged with murder. Last time he was supposed to have killed a beautiful little green eyed nun, now the Loma Parda mayor was shot dead right in front of Shorty. A couple nights before the killing, Shorty had spent the night at the Circle K Ranch and knew the murderer was not little Buck, but eyewitnesses said he was the one that did the shooting. Now Shorty had to go about proving they are wrong and bring in the right killer. Two years ago a crooked judge and make believe priest got together trying to steal ranches so they could sell the land to the new railroad. Well the railroad came through, now someone is trying to steal those same ranches to raise and ship their own cattle to the Chicago meat market. Pinning the murder on the wrong man, who just happened to be a friend of U S Marshal Shorty Thompson was a big mistake. Shorty would see the wrong man did not hang for a crime he didn’t commit. Now to find some fellow riding around the country with a Sharps fifty-caliber rifle and scope shoved into a scabbard on his saddle.

Four outlaws followed big Jake Ivey home after he sold a small cattle herd. Matt Crammer and his three men was a mean rotten bunch, but didn’t know what they were getting themselves into when they followed Jake home, then robbed and shot him. Seventeen-year-old little Jake takes up their trail. He’s to find where they hole up then ride back home and see if his pa is fit to ride. They’d go together and get their money. Little Jake was gone longer than he ought’a been, so his little sister Rebecca sneaked off one night and went looking. When she runs into U S Marshal Shorty Thompson over in Tucson, Arizona she tells him she is going on seventeen, but really she’ll be fourteen in less than a month. In the mountains of Mexico Shorty said she was very pretty standing naked in front of him, while an old Indian smiled at her youth. They followed Crammer down to Hermosillo, Mexico where he ties in with an old friend. With this gang of Mexican Banditos, they head for Gila Bend, Arizona and rob a train of just over two hundred thousand dollars. Marshal Shorty, little Jake and Rebecca stay close on their trail. Little Jake killed two of Crammers men and got big Jake’s money back and several thousand dollars to boot. He kept up the pressure as Crammer cussed, wiped out tracks and did everything he could think of to lose these young trackers. Chasing and following them back to New Mexico, it all comes to a quick end, right in the doorway of Jake Ivey’s ranch house.

Winston and Minnie Scroggins found it rough making a living in the late 1870's. Winston was a hard worker, but lived a little close to the bottle when things were going good. Work would slack off a bit and at times the family had very little to eat and a worse place to live. Winston would buckledown and always come up with a way to feed his growing family. Minnie was a very religious woman and prayed to the good Lord above for guidance. Early in the year 1875, Winston left the farm in the lower Rio Grande Valley and took his family to the Moreno Valley, high in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of northern New Mexico Territory, looking for gold. For years Winston did any job he could find just to take care of the family. He was a blacksmith, shod horses and mules. He was a carpenter and help with building part of Elizabethtown. This was gold and copper country and Winston was going to find his. Minnie was a good strong woman making sure her four children knew and worshiped Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savor. The 1880's rolled around and the family was still struggling. Minnie talked Winston into giving up on finding gold and map out a plot of land to start a ranch and build their home. Northeast across the valley from Elizabethtown, they would make claim to the southwest side of Elizabeth Peak, all the way down to the Moreno River. This land would be theirs. Last fall the county seat was moved from Elizabethtown to Cimarron that is where the land description and deed would be filed. With help from the eldest son Carrey, they built their home beside a year round running creek, far on the east side of Moreno Valley. From here you could see west all the way across and south as far as the eye could see. At last Minnie had her home. Carrey went off to some far off war and was killed in action. This devastated the family, but life must go on.

Janice McCord is fourteen years old, when the five Kraymon brothers ride in and shoot down her parents and twin brother Jack. She takes up Jack’s name and her father’s .45 to blaze a trail of revenge across the Territory of New Mexico. After out gunning one of the brothers in a saloon in Silver City, New Mexico Territory, outlaw friends of his are hot on her trail. When they catch up to her on the side of a mountain, she leaves a few more dead. Her fast shooting and sharp wit, turns a couple of them from lawlessness to helping her track down the killers of her family. She’s in jail, arrested for the murders of her family before she writes her cousin, U.S. Marshal Shorty Thompson for help. Help does arrive, but she still joins the outlaw gang that killed her family. Now they are getting ready to pull off the largest robbery in the Territory’s history. Over a million dollars in gold will be crossing Tecolote Creek on Saturday. To make sure she is the one to get the killers of her family and the revenge she has sought for months, Janice may have to fight her three friends and her cousin Shorty, along with half the U.S. Cavalry. It matters not, she has a set mind and will do what she has to do, or get killed trying. This she promised her dead parents and twin brother Jack, she would be the one to get them all. Her revenge may not be swift, but definitely painful and final!

Mackland McPherson, AKA Whiskers McPherson, headed west to the Rocky Mountains. Set upon by road agents twice before getting to the Mississippi River, he realized he was a greenhorn and needed a rifle and pistol to survive. Heading west across Kansas, for the first time in his life, he found what real fear was. Indians kept him hunkered down in a buffalo wallow for days before cowboys rode up and saved his life. Instead of letting him ride on to certain death, the ranch these cowboys worked for would not let him go on west until he learned everything they knew about surviving. He did learn and became one of the last fur trapping mountain men in the Sangre de Cristo Range of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. Gabriel O'Grady was the son of the very wealthy Henry O'Grady. This young man could not see himself behind a desk, leading a dull life forever. No, he wanted adventure and found it out west, working as a cowboy on a ranch in the wilds of the New Mexico Territory. He knew his boss was the ex-sheriff of Taos County, but did not know he also ran the biggest cutthroat gang of outlaw bank robbers in New Mexico. As these men live their lives, McPherson finds love with a beautiful young widow woman whose twelve year old son is as smart as any grown man, and a darn good fishing buddy. Gabe goes all the back to Kansas City to fetch his dead boss' daughter. This beautiful city girl will become the love of his life.

Most folks, as they get older reminisce in the past of unfulfilled hopes, plans and dreams. Have you ever said yourself, or heard a few of your friends’ say, ‘Before I Die’? In this story several different people say those famous words. A few get to see their dreams come true, others do not. A young Pennsylvania doctor’s father wants his son to take his wife and go west, following his dreams. “Son, Before I Die…” His dream came true and they all went west to Trinidad, Colorado. An outlaw with murder in his heart said, “Before I Die I want…” It never came to past, as he was sentenced to hang before he could fulfill this murderous dream. Then there is a local town sheriff that does his job of protecting the people of his town. “Before I Die, I hope to see my town and county safe from robbers and killers. Why are some men so greedy they would kill for money?” Will his dream ever come true for Trinidad, Las Animas County, Colorado? A judge sitting in his court room, before him sat killers, kidnappers and robbers. “Before I Die I want to see…” His dream was well on the way of coming true. Includes foreword by Stephen Michael Hundley bestselling author of "Gunsight Justice."

Darrel and Bobby Lee Martin’s parents, brothers and sisters, along with a gob of other folks were unlucky enough not to dodge Comancheros while making their way west for a new life. Bobby Lee, Darrel and several more children old enough to work were kidnapped and taken captive. A few weeks later, while their captors got drunk, Darrel and Bobby Lee cut and run, headed west. They stole two satchels, a dab of food, one box of sulfur matches, a Bowie knife and two canteens, one full the other well over half empty. The number one thing Darrel knew they would have to have to survive was one of those repeating rifles and a box of cartridges. Everything was easy to get, once those men got drunk. By walking and running, they should have seven or eight hours before anyone came looking. They walked all night and found a good hiding place by sunup. They slept by day and traveled by night for the first two days then knew the outlaws and Indians had stopped looking for them. They kept walking northwest until they came upon a dead horse and a man lying face down with a bullet hole through his left shoulder. They couldn’t just walk off and leave him, they’d stay and help. Perhaps he would live, or they could comfort him until he died.

Eighteen year old cowboy Cody Strickland lost his parents to an illness that he didn’t understand. Saddened, confused and alone, he saddled up and rode north, stopping and working awhile, but bounced around from one location to another. He was free to come and go as he pleased. His new boss on the Double Bar X Ranch put his trust in Cody after only a couple of months. He was to go along on a cattle drive from northeast of Cheyenne, Wyoming all the way to Salt Lake City, Utah. The worst snows in history hit the Utah Mountains, so Cody had to lay over months before making his long trip back with the twenty-six thousand dollars of cattle money that he had collected. Coming upon a wounded man, he could not leave him to die, alone. Patching him up and taking him home proved to be a bigger chore than anyone would expect. Outlaws and gold robbing thieves kidnap the rancher’s daughter and that sets Cody on a rescue mission that leads all over northern and western Colorado and southern Wyoming. The very pretty daughter, two packhorses loaded with gold and with angry men on their trail, this little cowboy has to do some fancy shooting. Men should have been killed, but Cody let them live, now he and the girl are riding all out for the ranch. Cody knows how to muddy a trail, just ride in rivers, over mountains and keep doubling back. Never ride in a straight line too long. They make it to the ranch where they think there is safety. Just how wrong can one little cowboy be?

When greed takes over a wealthy rancher’s heart, his only thoughts are getting more land and cattle for his only son. Before his wife died, he was a well respected rancher raising cattle and very expensive horses. Getting on up in years, he wanted to leave his wealth to his son. He sent the son and riders to kill two families which would give him another twenty thousand acres and all the winter feed he would ever need. As a young girl’s mother and father are killed, she turns to her ten year old cousin. “Billy, please don’t leave me.” As time passes, the wealthy rancher and son are on the run for the murders of the two families, a sheriff and his two deputies. U S Marshal Shorty Thompson chases them from Colorado to Kansas and south through the Oklahoma Indian Nations and on into Texas. Cutting back toward Colorado and home, outlaw robbers shoot and kill the son. Lying in the Texas dirt dying, the last words the father heard his son say is, “Please don’t leave me. I do not want to die alone out here in the middle of nowhere.”

In the small mining town of Chloride, New Mexico Territory, four young men rob the bank and shoot the teller. As they ride down the street leaving town, a teen age boy and girl see their faces. Several shots were fired their way, the girl went down. David Graham knew he had to get a gun to protect himself and others. He wasn’t worth a crap with a pistol, but with a rifle he was among the best in the country. A rifle couldn’t be carried in his hands all the time. What he needed was a new gun. Yes, a new kind of gun. Leo Patterson, a close friend owned and ran the livery and blacksmith shop. An idea came to him, so he asked if David would leave his rifle with him for a while. When Leo was through, a new gun was built. Outlaws and gun manufactures wanted that rifle and the holster that held it to David’s right leg. Outlaws knew they would be unbeatable. Gun manufactures knew they could make millions with this new gun. It would be the best rifle/pistol to come out since the repeater. Leo’s father, owner of the Patterson Firearms Company sent two men all the way from Patterson, New Jersey to get that rifle, no matter the cost. Leo’s father turned out to be just as greedy as Leo remembered and knew he was.

JAMES P. RETZER, DENTIST July 4th. 1879 the first Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe train pulled into Las Vegas, New Mexico Territory. The railroad had made it’s entry into a lawless land. The town band was playing and hundreds of people turned out to greet the passengers. The first man to step from the second passenger car was James P Retzer, Dentist and Surgeon. On his right hip was a tied down new double action Colt 44.40, called the Frontier Colt. People paid him little mind as he got his bags and walked toward the Gomez Hotel. Just another gunfighter coming into their town. James P. Ritzer had traveled up and down the Mississippi River on river boats doctoring the ill and working on bad teeth. One day, an elderly gunfighter by the name of Dobie Givens sat in the chair as James removed a bad tooth. “Son, I see you wear no gun.” “Why would I wear a gun?” “What would you do if I got up from here and told you I wadn’t gonna pay?” “I, I, well I don’t know as it has happened many times. Some I understood because they couldn’t afford it, but others were just ornery and didn’t pay.” “Can I tell you something and not hurt yore feelings?” “I guess so, what?” “Yer dumb Boy, an I mean right down dumb. Work yore tail off then anybody that don’t want’a pay, don’t.” “But what can I do?” “Get off this boat at the next stop and let me teach you how to use a gun. I’ll teach you how to be among the best and stay alive. When I say yer good enough, go west where people need a good dentist and surgeon. They’ll be proud to pay for your service.”

Milo Tillie was a hard working young man, who always loved the outdoors. At an early age he became very adapt with both pistols and rifles. He was born and raised on the west bank of the Missouri River, just a few miles north of Kansas City, Kansas. By the young age of twelve years he was working on his father’s river boats, taking supplies to Fort Leavenworth and well beyond. His father was a stern man who believed in a man working hard and standing on his own two feet. He also knew Milo had a dream of one day going west, and knew this dream was not just a passing whim. At the age of seventeen, Milo was seeing pretty Miss Molly Dunkirk, the banker’s daughter. It was love at first sight for both; Molly knew she would one day marry this hard working young man. One year later, Mister and Mrs. Dunkirk boarded the Missouri Queen riverboat, on their way to Leavenworth. Mister Dunkirk was looking for a location to open another bank. Their three children, nine year old James, six year old Susie, and seventeen year old Molly, were in school and did not make this trip. Mister Tillie was at the stern and in the mid-stream channel, when the boat hit a large submerged, unseen object. Within minutes the boat was sinking, taking most aboard with it. Only eight men, five women and eleven children were saved. The men, being strong swimmers, took a child or woman ashore, then swim back looking for anyone else they could help. Milo stayed in the water the longest. His father and the Dunkirks were among the many missing. When help finally arrived, it was too late. Years later, Milo followed his dream and went west where he started ranching. There his wife’s greedy uncle, Dan Evans, and a gang of hired guns rustled Circle Bar M cattle. The local sheriff sent for U. S. Marshal, Shorty Thompson. Milo and his cowboys would need Shorty’s help with these tough, hardened gunfighters, or he could lose everything he worked for and was building. Dan Evans was livid he had missed out on stealing the Dunkirk Estate. With help from his crooked cousin, Calvin Warflield, he swore to ruin Milo and his whole family, and get the estate after all.

Early spring in the year 1885, near Chama, New Mexico Territory, Anetia ‘Tiny’ Thompson Pascoe and her husband Joel, were just about to have a house full of kids again. What a blessed good time they would have with grandkids, nieces and nephews. Tiny’s brother William Thompson, and sister-in-law Amy had received a letter stating they must go to China to bring Amy’s aging parents, father, Fuxing Zhang and mother, Deqin Guo to America. Tiny and Joel were asked to watch her nieces, Vivian and Samantha for up to six months, until William and Amy returned from China. That wouldn’t have been too much, but a month later their youngest son Casey, who was in the Cavalry, was sent to Fort Laramie, Wyoming. Casey took his wife Amanda along with him, leaving their son Harrison with grandma and grandpa. It would only be for a couple of months, just until they got settled in. That would be great, as Harrison would have someone to play with, even though they were a couple of girls. Two weeks later their other son Travis, took his wife Quinn and went to Denver, Colorado on a business trip, leaving their son Marshall behind. Marshall was ten years old, the same age as Vivian and loved visiting his grandparent’s farm and his cousins. Instead of no children under foot in years, Tiny now had four, running, squealing, laughing, screaming, young hellions to keep out of trouble. Tiny stood, watching those kids play and asked Joel, “Are we blessed or what? Lord, please give us strength.” Joel laughed, “You might be blessed and need strength, I have a farm to run.”

William Colby is a retired lawman turned rancher. He became a Texas Ranger at the age of seventeen and had a good record. Twenty years later he retired from the rangers and took up a United States Marshal’s badge. He traveled Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska and Colorado catching outlaws. He turned in his badge at the age of fifty years, yes a very old man for his line of work. Outlaws knew of his fast gun and no nonsense manner. He was a lawman outlaws feared.

Doug Brown was seventeen years old when cattle rustlers burned their small Wyoming farm, killing his father and stealing every head of cattle he and his father had gathered in five days. Doug rode in with a small herd his father had sent him after. He saw the devastation and found his father lying face down in front of the half burnt barn. His body was riddled with several bullets, most in his back. He searched the dying embers of the barn and found a shovel with the handle still smoldering. The metal was too hot to hold, so he pulled on his gloves, took the shovel to the horse trough and dropped it in. Though it was getting dark, he walked a hundred yards from the house to the top of a low knoll, kneeling down beside a small headstone.

Can a young cowboy be too young to be a horse thief? Zack Wood, Harrison, and Marshall Pascoe were cousins and got into all kinds of trouble. All of it wasn't their fault, but enough was. May 23rd, 1889, being a late spring day and very hot, they sneaked off and went down to the river to go swimming. They had been told dozens of times not to go off anywhere without telling a grownup. The two younger boys were kidnapped, leaving 12-year-old Marshall to steal a horse and go after them.

U.S. Marshal, M D (Shorty) Thompson received a letter at his Fort Tularosa ranch, in western New Mexico. ‘Dear Shorty, it saddens me to let you know Matt was killed and robbed of eleven thousand dollars and was buried today. April 19, 1881. Almost half of the stolen money was to pay off our ranch which the bank will foreclose on the first day of September. I know who killed my husband but the law cannot find him. It has been told he has family in Montana. I need your help if at all possible, or the children and I shall lose the ranch.’ Sincerely, Nadine Rogers

When the Sadler twins okayed Billy Vivian sending for U S Marshal Shorty Thompson for help, Shorty thought he just needed to meet up with the twins. Together they’d hunt down and find their paint mares, and at the same time catch a couple family killing horse thieves. Now this case was turning into everything but simple. Bank robbers and rustlers are what he ran into. The Double Bar outlaw outfit from Montana was down in Colorado on a horse stealing, cattle rustling spree. They wanted the Sadler’s paint horses.

Ronnie Cox slowly saddled his horse, stowing all of his traveling gear and tying it tight. Walking to the main house, he knocked on the door. Jack Johnson opened it with a smile. “Come on in Ron.” Ron stood with hat in hand, “Mister Johnson, I’s needing to draw my pay, as I’ll be taking up the trail after a bit.” “Trail, why’s that?” “I’d like to travel a bit, being as Bobby ain’t around no more. Just don’t seem right without him.” “I can understand that.” Jack went inside and came back with three month’s pay. “Now Ron, you’ve always made me a good hand. You come back any time yer wanting to, yer always welcome here. Where will yore trail lead?” “Nowhere.” He mounted and rode out to the grave yard to tell Bobby goodbye.

Twenty two year old Slim and twenty year old Mace Sanders rode in to White Oaks, New Mexico Territory in the year of 1882. They had been away for a good while, but were now back to stay. As they rode up the street, Slim turned in his saddle, sitting on one hip. As he looked around he said, “You know Mace, White Oaks shor has growed some since we’s here.” “Yeah, being as there wadn’t no White Oaks back then.” “Wonder what made it start an’ grow like it has.” “No idea but I’s only ten an’ you’s twelve when Ma took us to Texas. Ten years is a long time. “We gonna stop, er go on out an’ see Grandpa an’ how much of the ranch house is left?” “We’ll see Grandpa first then come back after a while.” They rode on east by southeast two miles.

Emmet and Emma Overholt had brought their family of six kids from south Texas, along with grandpa and Grandma Garner, Emma’s ma and pa. They had two very well build covered wagons, pulled by six horses each. Roy the eldest boy and Jennie Sue, his eleven year old sister rode horses and drove fifteen milk cows with seven three month old calves. One contrary bull had to be hit on the rump at least ten times a day to keep him moving. Harmie was ten and walked behind the wagons with a long stick in hand driving nine sows and one boar. Twenty four piglets ran hard keeping up with their mothers. A chicken coop with ninety four hens and seven roasters was stowed under the belly of one of the wagons. Spring was in the air as they slowly moved westward. They stopped around noon to eat a bite of dinner. Emmet called over, “Grandpa, think we can get shelter built before hard winter?” “Best we do Boy, them winter winds blow cold an’ hard down that valley. You knowed that when you homesteaded.” “Yeah but that is one beautiful valley. How long now before we reach it?” “If no trouble, ten days er less. We’re almost home.” “Yeah about ten days was what I’s thinking.” They had trouble, outlaws trying to steal cattle and horses. The Overholt family was used to raiders down in Texas, so this bunch of outlaws got nothing but bullets and rode off licking their wounds, while swearing the ones left alive, after they healed up would be back. The only thing Emmet said was, “Don’t do it and live.”

April first, 1891, ten year old Zack Wood and his six year old sister Penny, lay on the grassy bank of the river. They watched as riders ran the family stock from the corral then set fire to the barn. Across the river, Harrison and Kate Pascoe stood wide eyed with mouths open as those outlaws burned the Wood’s barn. “Come on Kate we got to help um.” Kate wide eyed said, “But Harrison, there’s so many of them.” “Yeah but mine and Zack’s rifle hold fourteen bullets.”

Twenty four year old Raymond Bell came to sometime before sunup. He was on the porch with the limp body of his wife cuddled in his arms. The last thing he remembered saying was, “I’ll hunt you down, Gus Brimhall!”

May 1st. 1888 Lance and Cora Laredo bought the twelve thousand acre Randal Hemphill Ranch, which lay along the Pecos River, eight miles south of Fort Sumner, New Mexico. The money came from hard work and a huge gift from his father, a railroad tycoon. Lance was twenty four years old and Cora twenty. Their children, Lance Jr and twin sister Laney were three years old when they moved into their massive two story house. A few short months later, Cora took up Lance’s forty five and went looking for four men that had left Lance in a wheel chair, maybe for life. This was one mad woman. Those men had hurt the man she loves.

Sheriff Ataman Hayes walked into Doctor Phillip Conway’s office. “Found out who he is yet Doc?” “No, he had no papers on him, and no money.” “Must be a cowboy drifter, but could be with one of them cattle drives. Think he’ll live?” “Yes, he’s young and strong. Why did you shoot him?” “I didn’t, it was one of my deputies. The freight guards said he tried stoppin’ that last gold shipment as they was loading it on the train. While my deputies was takin’ our five percent cut, he tried grabbin’ it all.” “Why would he have done that without using his gun? It was, and is still in his holster.” “You know how some cowboys are just nosey an’ plumb dumb. Let me know when he’s able to ride. I’m keeping his dun stud in the livery. If he dies, it’s mine. I might even jail him ‘till I find what he had in mind.” “He isn’t going to die, unless another of your idiots shoots him again.” The sheriff smiled, “I just might have to do that.” U.S. Marshal Shorty Thompson lay unconscious after a bullet was removed from high in his left shoulder. He was shot from behind as he started to question four men removing gold from a shipment being loaded onto the Wells Fargo box car on the Atchison Topeka Santa Fe Railroad. This would stop his investigation for awhile. Gold shipments had been coming up short from the Chloride and Winston mines. He was sent to investigate, starting in Engle, New Mexico Territory.

After weeks on the trail, Shorty slowly rode into Craig, Colorado. Thirty feet in front of him rode two murdering outlaws, rope tied to their saddles. Joe leaned from his saddle, “Cliff, what’d I tell ya? He’s brought us right into Craig. How’s that fer helpin’ a couple fellers out?” “Yeah, he’s shor got one hell of ah surprise comin’. Will it be me, you er Sheriff Bondell that gets to shoot him?” “Richard might want’a flip a coin on that.”

Shorty was wounded and had lost more than a dab of blood. He was slouched over in his saddle as he rode into Holbrook, Arizona. In front of him tied to their saddles were the Collins brothers. He slid from the saddle in front of the sheriff’s office. Tying Dunnie he told Jody and Jim to get down. ‘Can’t, we’re tied to the saddle horn.” Shorty didn’t untie the ropes, just cut them with his knife. They dismounted and walked inside. A deputy jumped to his feet. “What’er you doing’ with Jody an’ Jim?” “Where’s the sheriff?” “Gone over to Page.” “I’m lockin’ these fellers up for a spell.” “Yer in the wrong town Master. This is Frank Collins’ town an’ them are his sons.” “Are you gonna help er get in the way?” “Only help I’ll give is get you the doctor, if you don’t pass out first.” Out the door he ran as Shorty locked the boys up and sat down behind the desk.

U.S. Marshal Shorty Thompson walked into the Colorado State Prison in Canon City, Colorado with Gus Bassett in handcuffs. After papers were shown, the warden walked with him as they walked down to six holding cells. “Marshal, you have just brought in the most dangerous man ever brought here. I know you had a tough job and I am grateful he is now under lock and key, guarded for the rest of his life.” As Gus was shoved in a cell, in the next one was a handsome young boy. As Shorty glanced at him the boy said, “Howdy Marshal Shorty.” “Howdy there, do I know you?” “Yes Sir, I am Bobby Skelton, Bob Skelton’s boy. We met over in Glenwood Springs, years back.” “What in the world are you doing in here?” “A crooked judge and jury found me guilty of killing my mom and dad. You know it isn’t true Marshal Shorty. You know that for fact. No matter what that judge said, he said justice has been served. I say there is no justice, at least not for the innocent.” “Well now let’s just up an’ see if we can’t change that. How long have you been in here?” “Five long years.” “What? How old are you now?” “Seventeen.” “You mean you were sent to prison at the age of twelve!” “Yes Sir. If I’d been fifteen they’d hung me.”

U.S. Marshal Shorty Thompson had been summoned to Deadwood South Dakota to testify against Belle Thornton for killing her husband and robbing their bank of sixty thousand dollars, in the town of Pecos, New Mexico. He was now slowly on his way back home to New Mexico. When he got to Cheyenne, he would put Dunnie Jr on the train for the rest of the trip. This was an early winter day, cold but there was no breeze and the sun was brightly shining and not a cloud in sight. Dunnie loped along at an easy pace. Shorty was hoping to reach the new, very small village of New Castle before night. Within a few hours, maybe noon, he knew he might be in trouble. Clouds, yes snow clouds now blocked the sun and a swift west wind was whipping up. He saw a thick grove of trees right against a rock bluff and headed for that. Looking it over he knew with his tarp he could fix a very good shelter. Now out of the wind with a fire blazing, he had a pot of coffee on and meat frying in a skillet and hardtack ready to eat. As he brought the sugar-cured ham to his lips he stopped, staring right at him from no more than ten feet away was a small Indian boy. He offered the meat to the boy who eased up and grabbed it then ran into the woods, but was back in a few minutes with his hand out. Shorty knew this boy was mighty hungry and very cold.

Golden Colorado was the gateway to the gold fields of the Rocky Mountains during the Pipe’s Peak gold rush. Thousands of men, but very few women converged on these mountains seeking the riches of a life time. With so few women, men gathered at the local saloons to get their turn with one of the working girls. Gilbert Burns, half owner of the Golden Nugget Saloon and Gambling Hall was a well known shyster. With the girls all worked to a frazzle every night, he and his woman, big Ruth McDougal, got the idea of mail order brides. They hired men and wagons sending them back east to the big cities rounding up lonely women and girls. The rag-ah- muffins off the streets were bought new clothes with a promise of a good life out west. Rich miners and lonely cowboys were waiting by the hundreds to marry lovely young healthy women. After the first two wagons came into Golden loaded with very young girls, Sheriff Ted Mink wanted to assign Deputy Sheriff John Dunow to go undercover and investigate making sure all of this was on the up and up. “John you know this just doesn’t look right. Some of those girls are just babies and not old enough to even develop breasts yet. You have free rein, but be mighty careful. There’s a lot of money involved in those brides.

Fourteen year old twins Billy Dean and Billie Jean Randal were the only two people left alive when a gang of twelve men hit the two family covered wagons. They were camped just off the old El Camino Real, right on the Rio Grande. Dean and Jean Randal had bought the huge Eduardo Salazar farm and ranch just a few short miles from Dona Anna, New Mexico. They made it this far, all this long way from just south of Albuquerque when bandito’s hit. After camp was set up for the night, Billy and Billie went down to the river hoping to catch a batch of fish. They heard the gunfire and started running from the trees into open ground when Billy saw how many men there was. He grabbed Billie and slammed her to the ground, holding his hand over her mouth to stop the screams. “Don’t touch that forty five, just get a look at their horses and faces! There is nothing we can do I see Mama and Daddy lying on the ground. Remember those faces Billie Jean every one of them.” An hour later they were on their knees beside their parents, crying. “Whatever will we do without them Billy?” “You’ll see, let’s load them in the back wagon and bury them on the farm when we get there tomorrow.”

March 19, 1886, nine U.S. Marshals from New Mexico, Colorado, Texas and Arizona were summoned to the Nevada State Prison in Carson City, Nevada. Shorty Thompson from New Mexico, Hopper Scranton from Arizona, Billy Hart, James Kilmer, Bob Betterton and Roy Denton from Texas. Then there was Larry and Jimmy Colman, along with Ron Hubbell from Colorado. The governor stood looking over these men. "Please, if my wife is alive bring her back to me. I wish you men luck and may you return safely.”

Fifteen year old William (Will) Ross was now all alone. His mother had died seven years ago and his father was murdered. Sure he still had the small ranch, but what could a small young boy do all alone? His favorite horse was Molly girl and she followed him around like a puppy dog. Late one evening, just before dark, he was in town buying supplies. The gun on his hip was almost too heavy for him to hold up straight and aim, but he managed. A young man was walking down the sidewalk coming toward him. Another man stepped from an alley, gun in hand. At the same instant he fired that gun, a second shot making them sound as one took his life. Will was looking at two dead men, but he had only heard one shot. Another man wearing dark clothing with gun in hand quickly walked from the darkness taking something from the farthest dead men’s pockets. Before he could get to the next man, people were shouting, asking where the gunfire came from. The man rushed between buildings disappearing out of sight. Will strained his eyes in the dark of night. “Good Lord! I know that man! That’s Mister…”

Six riders had come up as she and Dan walked out on the porch after eating a wonderful supper. With guns in hand one man hollered, “Yore two weeks is up Camden!” Dan had been shot dead and she lay still in a pool of her own blood. The children, Neil and baby June had saved her life. June staying by her side as Neil saddled a horse and rode four miles bringing back the doctor. Lord that seemed so long ago, but the two years since had pasted very fast. She was well and strong enough to go looking for those six men and kill every one of them and the man that sent them. Her gear was packed, she would want for nothing.

U.S. Marshal Shorty Thompson had his hand on the back Melanie Bishop’s head, shoving her low in the reeds growing along the banks of the San Juan River. He had jerked and pulled her from the slow moving train four miles northeast of the town of Pagosa Springs, Colorado. Twelve gunmen had boarded the train looking for Melanie. She was the last of five witnesses they must kill to keep their very rich boss from being strung up by the neck. Five people had witnessed the murder of Sheriff Grimes and the town judge, Marcum Ames and several more men. Del Norte, Colorado was the supply center for hundreds of mines in the San Juan Mountains. Blatant killers with orders from their boss, when a small mine order came in fill that order then follow the wagons, or pack donkeys to that mine killing the owner and every miner. Sheriff Grimes had somehow found out and went to Judge Ames. After laying everything out, they sent for U.S. Marshals. The telegraph operator was on Mandel Blackmon’s payroll and never sent the wire, but gave names getting four of the five witnesses killed. Melanie’s father, on the sly got her out of town after the other witnesses started coming up dead. Months later Shorty had gone to Durango to bring Melanie back as a witness for trial, but that operator had gotten word to Blackmon’s men. They had worked up a plan and jumped the train, now Shorty and Melanie were in hiding, miles and miles from Del Norte.

Glenwood, Hopper Scranton was U.S. Marshal in the Arizona Territory. He rode into Tucson dead tired and sun burned. He stopped by the office even before taking care of his horse. “Howdy Captain.” “Hopper, glad you made it as soon as you did, read this.” “Need help as soon as possible. Thirty six young boys and ten girls are missing from within forty mile radius of Globe Arizona. The last two disappeared one week ago yesterday. That was my fifteen year old son and a sixteen year old neighbor girl. Signed; Sheriff Donald Tucker, Globe Arizona. “I’ll ride out tomorrow. Right now my horse gets took care of then me. We’re both hungry and tired.”

January 1st. 1886 Tom C Hall, Chief U.S. Marshal for the Territory of New Mexico appointed the first woman Deputy U.S. Marshal, twenty-two-year-old Betty McCabe. Her job for the most part was to work under cover getting information on the Territorial Senator, Samuel Drake and Armand Roybal, the largest banker in the New Mexico Territory. Old Spanish land grant deeds were now in the Senator’s and Roybal family names. The families of those land grants were either dead or so scared they wouldn’t talk to the law. For most of a year in an unknown location, several of the very best marshals trained Betty McCabe. Some of those taught her how to use her fist, knee or even a head butt. One of those was U.S. Marshal M D (Shorty) Thompson, who taught her how to use firearms. When her training was complete, she was sharp eyed with a rifle and few men could come close to her speed and accuracy with a forty-five. The undercover name she was given was Connie Blake.

Toby McElroy yelled out, “Mister Long, did you see our paint horses bein’ drove up this road?” “No, we sure didn’t, but we’ve only been here minutes. Who’d be driving em?” “Willis and Wilber Stoner an’ Andy Mathews. They shot Pa an’ took five hundred dollars what he was gonna pay off our loan with. Then they opened the corral an’ drove sixteen of our paint horses up this road.” “Why’re you walking?” “They shot ol’ Red an’ Brownie both, them’s the only horses we’ve got me an’ Dobie could ride.” David asked, “You mean they just shot your horses?” “Uh huh an’ Pa.” “David, you get Misty on home, I’ll walk with the boys and check on Paul. I’ll be home after a bit.”

Fourteen year old Sonny Henderson was headed toward the barns with three milk cows in front of the horse. He stepped from the saddle and opened the gate then remounted. Swinging his rope and hollering, the cattle moved on toward the lot beside the barn. Just as they came around a bend in the river, two shots were heard coming from toward the house. He left the cattle and kicked his horse into a run. Well before he got there, he saw six men on horses, guns in hand and his father lying on the ground.

Sam and Art Goodman married sisters, Sally and Frances Hollister. From Higginsville Missouri, it took just over three and a half months to get to this beautiful Animas Valley in southwestern Colorado. Sam was twenty four, Art twenty one and Sally twenty and Fran was nineteen years old. They came in two covered wagons, one pulling along four young milk cows the other pulled four very nice young saddle horses. Each wagon was pulled by four strong work horses that when settled in their new homes would pull plows. Sam and Art’s father had been to this valley two years ago and had lucked out getting twelve hundred and eighty acres for each of his boys. All the papers had to be changed and at last were approved by the Territory of Colorado. As they got to the Animas River and turned north, here sat a new bustling town. Sam said, “We missed it, we’re in the wrong valley.” Art looked at their map, “No, this is it somebody just went and built a town. Our property’s still a few miles on north up the river. Would you look at the size of that sawmill?” They went on and found it. The properties were across the Animas River from each other. Sam and Art, looking at Territorial maps pulled the wagons to a stop in a breathtaking location. Fran said, “Would you look at that cabin!”

Twenty two year old Roy Dale rode the few miles into town to get his mother two spools of sewing thread, one brown the other white. He tied his horse one hitch rail over from the dress shop. He was asked by a man who had just stopped in front of the bank. “Hey fellow, want to earn yore self four bits?” “Could, what do you want?” “Need you to hold my hoss a couple minutes.” He pitched a half dollar to Roy and looped the right rein over the saddle horn, dismounting and handed Roy the left one. “Be right back.” Three minutes later he walked out of the bank and mounted saying thanks. While turning his horse, he drew his pistol and shot Roy, then slowly rode off up the street and turned a corner before anyone even knew where the shot came from.

Molly Madison arrived in Denver, Colorado by train. It was a beautiful spring day as she stepped to the platform with an umbrella in her left hand. She slowly walked over to the window where a clerk was on the telegraph tapping away. “Excuse me Sir.” “One moment Ma’am.” He returned to the key. A few seconds later he looked up at this very beautiful woman and smiled, “Now, how may I be of service?” “Can you tell me when the next train will be going up to Idaho Springs? I must get to Black Hawk as soon as possible.” “Well Ma’am it seems as they have had a small rock slide up Gregory Gulch, but the train to Idaho Springs will be pulling out within the hour. From there to Central City and Black Hawk you would have to hire a buggy. Uh will you be staying long?” She smiled, “I will if things work out the way I have planned.” She walked over and sat on a bench. He stood looking out the window then walked out a door. “Ma’am, the train to Idaho Springs will be leaving from those tracks right over there. I will carry your bags if you will allow.”

It was a sweat wiping hot July day as Shorty stood with a prisoner on the loading platform of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad in San Bernardino, California. Beside him wearing handcuffs was Lambert Hartley, a vicious killer. While being captured, he and his men killed two deputies and wounded a third man before a lucky shot from a rifle bounced a bullet off his thick skull knocking him out. During a long week recovering, word was sent to New Mexico that he had been captured. U.S. Marshal Shorty Thompson had been sent all that way to bring him back to Santa Fe, New Mexico where he would spend the rest of his life in prison for the ruthless murder of a young girl. People wanted him hung, but that judge said no to that, being on a chain gang for the rest of his life would be the worse punishment. Hanging would be too quick, this man needed to suffer like no other that had stood before him.

Tom Stillison was gone from home in Arkansas for just over two years. He was looking for farm and ranch land for his family. He bought and paid cash for the Tapia Ranch in Peṅasco, New Mexico Territory. It entailed a beautiful home, barns and corrals, fifty-four hundred acres of ranch and farm land. Most of the farm was irrigated thanks to the Picuris Indians. Mister Tapia had said, “The banker in Taos wants this land, wants to steal it. He offered only half what it is worth. Mister Stillison you have property that will feed your family. I am old, now I go to Albuquerque to live with my daughter.” Tom returned to Arkansas to fetch his family only to find his wife Arlene, only thirty-two years old had died of consumption. But he still had two beautiful daughters, Helen fourteen and Maggie sixteen. They loaded two wagons with everything they owned and headed seven hundred long slow miles to Penasco, New Mexico.

Little Timmy Wallace was six years old when his mother passed away. He was raised by a loving father on the family ranch a few long miles south of San Simon, Arizona.Timmy was now eleven and fall round up was over and his dad Jim and two hired hands drove that herd over forty miles to Wilcox to the railroad and a waiting cattle buyer. Timmy and his grandfather stayed behind to do the daily chores.It was late in the day when Jim was paid twenty five thousand dollars. He headed to the bank, but it was closed for the day. “Al, you and Wayne.” He was talking to his hired help. “What do you say we have a beer and I’ll head on back home? Timmy and Dad should be glad to see me.”“It’ll be alright if we stay for the dance, won’t it?”“You bet, you both deserve a good time. You worked yore butts off on that roundup.”Jim had one beer then headed back home. It was close to dark as he rode up to the barn and dismounted. Seven young men came whipping and spurring their horses. They slid them to a stop just as Timmy came from the house to help his dad.A shot was fired and Jim was down. Saddlebags were grabbed as Timmy ran up screaming, looking into laughing faces. “Calvin why’d you shoot my dad?”Another shot was fired and Timmy fell to the ground. “Little runt, you should’a stayed in the damn house!”

The stage rolled in with Smoky Joe hollering his head off for Shorty. “I’m right behind you Smoky.” “Oh there you are, here.” He handed Shorty a letter. Shorty read the letter, and again. “Shorty my heart is broken, Wanda Lou has been kidnapped and the kidnappers are asking for one hundred thousand dollars ransom, also the return of Jake Corley. I pray Corley wasn’t hung. It will take weeks, perhaps months raising that kind of money, even if I can. I desperately need your help, signed, Your friend, Homer Masters.”