Tucson - Man Hunter

About the Book

I took the train east, all the way to El Paso, Texas. I was sure that the train making twenty miles an hour would get me to the mountain pass west of the Texas line ahead of them. The best they could hope for would be twenty or twenty-five miles a day on horseback. If New Orleans really was their destination they would almost certainly have to use this particular route. Of course they might swing north, but that didn’t make a lot of sense either, travelers using the northern route lately had been killed by roaming bands of renegade Indians that the troopers had not been able to stop. And south, well south, south they would have to swing into Mexico where the beginning of a revolution was in the making. So that would not be a smart move either. No, I would pick me a good spot overlooking the pass and be waiting for Ben and Sam Melody when they came through on their way to Louisiana. I wasn’t exactly sure just how I was going to approach these killers. But I had made a deal with Ruth Tyrell, and if I could, I would bring her two murdering nephews in alive rather than dead. If I could. I even went so far as to borrow two sets of shackles from Marshal Rex Bulett when I left Yuma. So I guess you could say I was thinking I could bring them in alive. Killing them would not be hard, killing a man is easy, capturing him alive is an altogether different thing. If I were able to get them afoot I might get the job done. I deplore killing animals to get the men I’m after, that might be the only choice available to me. And along those lines I bought two cheap horses and lead them behind me when I rode out of El Paso. I instinctively knew that stepping out into the road, blocking their path, and ordering them to surrender would not work. They would force me to shoot them, and being on horseback, the advantage would be on their side. Horses don’t like gunfire, some of them get really jumpy, and will go wild on you in a minute. I might not be able to place my shots and one or both could end up dead. But if they were afoot then the upper hand would fall back on my side. Unless I could get really lucky and walk up on them in a night camp, I might have to shoot their horses from under them. It was a dilemma no doubt, but I had given my word, and if a man has nothing else in this ole world he has that. But I also know that a man’s word, spoken, or implied, along with his belief in self worth is the most important treasure he will ever possess.

About the Author

Brooks Roland, was born in Kilgore, Texas, on the fifth day of August, 1939. He is proud to be called a Texan, and was not aware that another part of the world even existed until his early teens. He loved the Piney Woods of East Texas. Since he was a child, he could be found with a pencil and paper in his hand and was always jotting something down. After he turned fourteen, Brooks crammed fifty years of living into the next twenty. He and the love of his life, his wife Betty, now live in Longview, Texas. He finally put in his twenty years and retired from the maintenance department of the Gregg County, Texas Courthouse. Brooks spent ten years as a Volunteer Fireman in White Oak, Texas and considers it one of the most rewarding phases of his life. Jimmy Nall, Chief of that Department and good friend, was possibly one of the most influential persons in his life. Having lived all of his young life in East Texas, exploring the rivers and woods, and having a great imagination, he at last has time to pursue his passion to write books. Thus, after many long hours at the keyboard, a book is born.