By Louis L'Amour
Barnabus Pike isn't any gunfighter and never a lot of a highway fighter. Eddie Holt is a black boxer in a white man's international. they have either taken their percentage of difficult knocks. Now they're seeking to continue to exist a brutal wintry weather in a distant Montana line shack, acquire their pay, and calm down for stable. Then they move paths with a hardworking Irish immigrant and his attractive, lively sister, who have been burned off their land. it is a struggle Pike and Holt don't desire, don't desire, and do not dare flip their backs on—especially while one of many perpetrators can be one among Pike's previous acquaintances. Hunted like animals around the frozen geographical region, Pike and Holt will probability everything—including their reputations, their dreams—and their lives.
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Extra resources for Hanging Woman Creek
We had seen no more of Van Bokkelen, and I was sure he had left the town before us, and I was pleased at that. " Eddie asked. P. " "Jimtown, I guess. " The train rumbled along, accompanied by whistles now and then as it neared some road crossing. The country we were passing through was broken into wheat fields... miles of them... and sometimes there were stretches of pastureland. It was a glaciated region of rolling prairies with occasional low hills and small lakes or sloughs, their fringes lined with cattails.
Boys, my name is Jim Fargo-call me Jim. " We walked away and left him standing there, and when we had gone several blocks toward the west end of town where we would catch our freight going out, Eddie said to me, "He's a Pink, Pronto. " And it made a lot of sense... But who was he after? Van Bokkelen? They had said Van Bokkelen was wanted for murder, and the Pinks usually only hunted train robbers or the like. I said as much. "That Van Bokkelen, maybe he murdered a Pink," said Eddie. Three We dropped off the freight before it reached Miles City station, and walked up Pacific Avenue.
All I had was a lonesome whistle sound as the train bent around a curve, the distant glow of the firebox, and somewhere down the line a flea-bitten cow pony, and a chuck wagon for home. Two When I woke up it was daylight and the train was bumping along at a good pace. Walking to the door, I could see patches of woods, a stream and miles of wheat fields slipping by. Eddie sat up. "That right, what you said? " "West... I dunno. Maybe Miles City... Medora. " "I could eat. " "You an'me," I said. " "Uh-huh.
Hanging Woman Creek by Louis L'Amour