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Zusatztext Praise for the novels of Ralph Compton “Compton offers readers a chance to hit the trail and not even end up saddle sore.”— Publishers Weekly “Compton writes in the style of popular Western novelists like Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey…thrilling stories of Western legend.”— The Huntsville Times (AL) “If you like Louis L’Amour! you’ll love Ralph Compton.”— Quanah Tribune-Chief (TX) Informationen zum Autor Marcus Galloway Klappentext A father is on the hunt for justice in this Ralph Compton western... Frontier life is hard enough without having kids to worry about-especially for a widower like Paul Meakes. Still! he's settled where he is and resolved to stay in the small Colorado town his son and daughter call home. So when his daughter is hit by a seemingly poisoned arrow during an Indian raid! Paul is determined to track down the Comanche villains who hurt his little girl-and bring them to justice with the help of Indian hunter Hank Adley! a hired gun who's got business of his own with the tribe. But when the trail leads from a close call with Indian warriors to a deadly intrigue! Paul discovers that the dangers of the West are far greater and more varied than he ever imagined. And to save his family! he has no choice but to take a stand against them all.… More Than Six Million Ralph Compton Books in Print! Chapter 1 Colorado,1886 In his life, Paul Meakes had been plenty of things. When he was inclined to boast, he would mention his time spent as half a lawman working as a deputy for a marshal in Kansas. Those had been an exciting couple of months but hadn’t amounted to much apart from riding on a few posses without ever being offered steady employment. He’d had a few lucky strikes as a miner while panning in the rivers of Wyoming and California, but plenty of men had stories like those. During his younger days, he’d been a trapper on the Nebraska plains skinning buffalo and dragging their hides from one trading post to another in search of the best price. Paul didn’t have much use for boasting anymore. Some years ago, he’d worked a few cattle ranches and picked up odd jobs in mining camps on his way into the southeastern portion of Colorado. Once there, he’d met a lovely little woman named Joanna and opened a little general store that stocked bits and pieces the locals weren’t likely to find anywhere else. He kept one of the best-stocked selections of books in the county and was known throughout his town for the oddities displayed in his front window. Residents of Keystone Pass knew where to go for blankets, oats, shoes, or tools. When they wanted something to read, a newspaper from any of a number of bigger towns, or fashions left behind by merchants on their way to New York or San Francisco, they went to Meakes Mercantile. Before long, Paul’s little store had acquired something of a reputation throughout Colorado. Those in favor of his place regarded it as a haven for fine goods and intellectual delights. Those who weren’t feeling so generous called the shop a dumping ground for yellow-back novels and wares from every snake oil salesman who’d dared showed his face east of the Rockies. Either way, Paul made a decent living. He was a far cry from being rich, but he managed to keep his head above water when it came time to feeding his little family. Joanna was a beautiful woman. Short and a bit stout in stature, she had stolen Paul’s heart the instant he saw her smile. When he worked up the nerve to ask her to a dance, hold her in his arms, smell her soft blond curls, marriage was a foregone conclusion. She was a caring wife and patient mother. Was. Paul thought of her often, so his brief respite while arranging the books for sale in his store was nothing new. Neither was the pinch at the corner of his eyes or the grief that stabbed at hi...
