Jim Gorman's Brand
()
About this ebook
Read more from J. Allan Dunn
50 Essential Classic Adventure Short Stories You Have To Read Before You Die, Vol.1: Jack London, Robert Ervin Howard, E.Nesbit, Max Brand... (Golden Deer Classics) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Adventure MEGAPACK ®: 25 Classic Adventure Stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA MAN TO HIS MATE (Sea Adventure Classic): Treasure Hunt Thriller in the Waters of Arctic Ocean Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Cowboy MEGAPACK ®: 25 Western Tales by Masters Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Man to His Mate: Adventure Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBlack Mask (Spring 2018) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Western MEGAPACK®: 25 Classic Western Stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRIMROCK TRAIL (Western Classics Series): A Tale of the Arizona Ranch and the Three Musketeers of the Range Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Man to His Mate Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAdventure (July, 1916) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRimrock Trail Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe 8th Western Novel MEGAPACK®: 4 Classic Westerns Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Dragon's Claw Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Great Pirate Adventures Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Treasure of Atlantis: Thrilling Adventure in the Legendary Lost City Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRimrock Trail: A Tale of the Arizona Ranch and the Three Musketeers of the Range Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDead Man's Gold Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to Jim Gorman's Brand
Related ebooks
Brazos Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Cartridge Creek Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Golden Butterfly Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Outlaws of Salty's Notch Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSanta Fe Passage Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFirst Fam'lies of the Sierras Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Preacher of Cedar Mountain Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWidow Woman Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Lost Lady Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Prodigal Pro Tem Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTHE WOLF TRILOGY: Call of the Wild, White Fang & The Son of the Wolf Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSome Everyday Folk and Dawn Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A King in Khaki Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe River We Remember: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Joan Haste: “Thinking can only serve to measure out the helplessness of thought.” Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Joyous Troublemaker Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMurder at Moose Jaw Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Call of the Wild + White Fang + The Son of the Wolf: 3 London Classics in One Edition Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Complete Works of Willa Cather Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Call of the Wild Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Turtles of Tasman Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHeart of the Assassin: A Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Floating Outfit 14: Rangeland Hercules Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Call of the Wild + White Fang + The Son of the Wolf (3 Unabridged Classics) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMarriage Of Mercy Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Preacher of Cedar Mountain: A Tale of the Open Country Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCrackaway's Quest Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBayou Folk & A Night in Acadie: Tales of Louisiana Life Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsProdigal Son Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Fellowship of the Frog: classic Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Art For You
How to Draw and Paint Anatomy, All New 2nd Edition: Creating Lifelike Humans and Realistic Animals Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Erotic Photography 120 illustrations Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Botanical Drawing: A Step-By-Step Guide to Drawing Flowers, Vegetables, Fruit and Other Plant Life Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5How to Make Love Like a Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Super Graphic: A Visual Guide to the Comic Book Universe Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Art 101: From Vincent van Gogh to Andy Warhol, Key People, Ideas, and Moments in the History of Art Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Everything Is F*cked: A Book About Hope Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Story: Style, Structure, Substance, and the Principles of Screenwriting Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Anatomy for Fantasy Artists: An Essential Guide to Creating Action Figures & Fantastical Forms Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Designer's Dictionary of Color Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Drawing: Flowers: Learn to Draw Step-by-Step Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Make Your Art No Matter What: Moving Beyond Creative Hurdles Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Drawing School: Fundamentals for the Beginner Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Find Your Artistic Voice: The Essential Guide to Working Your Creative Magic Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Creature Garden: An Illustrator's Guide to Beautiful Beasts & Fictional Fauna Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Art of Living: The Classical Mannual on Virtue, Happiness, and Effectiveness Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Electric State Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Bad Girls Throughout History: 100 Remarkable Women Who Changed the World Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Shape of Ideas: An Illustrated Exploration of Creativity Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Draw Like an Artist: 100 Flowers and Plants Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Egyptian Book of the Dead: The Complete Papyrus of Ani Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Picture This: How Pictures Work Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Bibliophile: An Illustrated Miscellany Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Reviews for Jim Gorman's Brand
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
Jim Gorman's Brand - J. Allan Dunn
J. Allan Dunn
Jim Gorman's Brand
Published by Good Press, 2022
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4064066417253
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER I.
Table of Contents
JIM GORMAN closed the thick volume and exhaled a long breath of relief after the concentration with which he had been studying it. At the same time he scratched the back of his head, sure sign that he was still busy on a problem, and placed the book on a pile of others similarly bound in sheepskin, law books all, part of the equipment of the sheriff’s office.
For a few minutes he looked out of the window to the busy street of Vacada, seeing through its present bustle the cow town he had first known.
Then the thoroughfare had been only a dusty trail between a scattering collection of shacks—mostly saloons, with a general store and two blacksmithies.
Now there were stores of pressed-brick and plate-glass frontage, the trail was a macadam highway, the sidewalks cement. There were schoolhouses and churches, a fire department and various lodge rooms. Banks and restaurants and hotels, garages, a steam laundry. Most marked change of all, as many women as men on the streets.
The old Vacada had nearly passed. Downtown, where the land sloped to the creek, where the cement sidewalks changed to wooden sections, stilted to the level, with steps leading up and down, there was the huddling remnant of the cow days which some thought had been the heydays of the place.
Here were the false fronts of the saloons, now titled cafés, displaying soda water and dispensing stronger liquors in back rooms where gambling tables still attracted and dance halls extended their mock gayety. Such things—since the State had elected to leave the enforcement of the Volstead Act to the federal authorities—Gorman, as sheriff, merely regulated.
Sooner or later they would die with the growth of the town. But there were still cattle ranches beyond the suburban irrigation farms that had so swiftly increased Vacada’s population and prosperity, and none knew better than Gorman how a rider, confined on ranch or range for weeks with scant outlet for his red-blooded, healthy vitality, is bound to cut loose when he comes to town with his pay check and finds nothing more exciting than an ice cream soda or a censored moving picture.
Gorman had lived too long on the range himself not to be tolerant of such reckless spirits. He wanted to let the inevitable changes and constrictions come about gradually with the shifting generations, not to be abruptly strangled.
He knew the sterling qualities that had lived beneath the rough displays, the chivalry toward women, the sense of squareness and fair play, the admiration, of true womanhood and manhood and the hatred of anything yellow and underhanded. Sometimes—as this morning—he doubted whether such virtues existed as strongly now. Assuredly vices still flourished that were not all born of the saloon and the card-table.
He rose slowly to his lean height and called to his deputy, busy in the rear, cleaning up the vacant tier of cells. Under the new sheriff, the jail was far from being overcrowded.
Put them law books on the shelf, Pete,
he said as the deputy appeared, an ancient whose bowed legs proclaimed the rider as well as his leather skin and the sun-puckers about his faded but still keen eyes. I’ll be away till middle of the afternoon, likely.
Might as well take a real vacation an’ go fishin’. Feller cu’d be deef, dumb, blind, lame an’ ha’f witted an’ hold down this job, way you’ve got the town. Dull an’ dead as ditchwater.
Find frawgs in ditchwater, Pete, an’ you never kin tell which way a frawg’ll jump or how fur.
Hope gleamed in the faded eyes of Pete as he watched his chief buckling on his cartridge belt and adjusting the long, blue sixes that had earned him long ago the title of Two-Gun Gorman.
You goin’ frawg huntin?
Frawg or toad. Pete, what d’you know about this new foreman out to the B-in-a-box?
Not much. Name’s Moore. So he ses. Some ses he’s a dago. Dark complected as a greaser. Come from where he don’t tell, three months back. Bulls around down in the dumps by the bridge when he comes to town. They say he’s mighty pally with King Bradey out to the ranch. Cook shack ain’t good enough for him. Eats his meals in the ranch house, ’long with King an’ his niece. I’m bettin’ he ain’t popular with her. She’s runnin’ with Bud Jarrett over to Two-Bar. He’s some different from Moore. Same feller brought in the note for you this mornin’ when you was out to breakfast. Me, I’d figger Moore a toad. You after him?
He ain’t the biggest toad in thet ditch, Pete.
Meanin’ King Bradey?
Pete whistled. He’s some toad.
Gorman nodded. The deputy regarded him wistfully as he buckled on his spurs and donned his Stetson. He wished that the sheriff would tell him what was in the letter brought by Bud Jarrett and if it had anything to do with the present excursion. But he knew his own one fault—garrulity—and he said nothing. More than once this habit of gossip, creeping upon him with age, had almost upset the sheriff’s plans.
Gorman knew exactly what Pete was thinking. He had given him something big to chew on and to keep him quiet. The deputy was not going to risk idle talk about King Bradey.
Bradey was a very big toad in not so small a puddle. More cattle buyer than raiser, he controlled large tracts of land and big herds, constantly changing. More than that, he practically controlled county politics so far as they had any thing to do with his own advancement or that of his friends—also the discomfiture of those who were brave enough, or foolish enough, to oppose him. Rich and powerful, big of body and suave of manner was Bradey, whose first name was often used as his only one and in the manner of a title. He had come into the county twenty years before to take up an ordinary holding. Somewhat suddenly he showed evidences of a healthy bank account and began to buy three things, land, cattle and men. He was still acquiring the last two.
If Gorman was out after the King, the deputy told himself, and a gleam came into his eyes, there would be something doing. King Bradey lived a good deal like a feudal baron. He had ten big ranches rolled into one and a hundred riders in the slackest of seasons, besides ordinary ranch hands to carry out his royal bidding.
You find anything in them books?
Pete asked as he placed the volumes of law on the shelf.
Not much, Pete. I’ve got a fair idea of justice, it seems, but a man can easy wade too deep in that sort of liberry.
I’ve offen thought law books was writ an’ printed for the feller who’s in trubbel, rather than t’other end to.
I’ve kinder thought the same way myself, Pete. Speshully what they call the civil code. So long.
He went out to the back where his horses were stabled. Motor cars he ignored save in case of necessity.
Car’s all right for speed on fair-to-good roads,
he declared. Go across lots with ’em an’ you’re liable to git inter trubble. I kin go on a hawss where a car ’ud be stalled or turnin’ summersets, an’ I kin think while I’m ridin’, ’thout botherin’ with holdin’ a guidin’ wheel an’ shiftin’ gears.
He saddled his black mare, who whinnied at him and thrust her velvety nose against him. She was not only his chum but his confidant. Her nervous ears had heard many secrets that the wind blew away and the mare never disclosed. It was the old habit of the range rider and his mount, the discounting of loneliness and solitude, still clinging to Gorman, utilized by him when he was riding free to assemble and concentrate thoughts and plans.
He loped out of town at an easy gait, nodding to many men, doffing his sombrero so frequently to women until at last he rode bareheaded until